INSPECTOR AUBREY HOLMES AND DOCTOR MAXINE BREITBART

INSPECTOR AUBREY HOLMES
AND
DOCTOR MAXINE BREITBART


A novel by,
COUNT: V V Nicolzah


Join me, my dear family! We need a vacation from the misery and chaos that seems to be engulfing our (apparently) defenseless lives.
It is imperative that we demonstrate compassion and care for one another.
Could you please?

FORE LIFE IS A TERRIBLE THING TO WASTE!

I Love you all, so very, very much! We are all going to be just fine in the end! I promise!

Be good, kids and have another free smile on me!
With Love and respect from,
Your, Divine Valkyrie
(Fore I am yours!)


Chapter One
Skullduggery

act I

"Good God, Holmes! It blew his eyeball clean out of its bloody socket!" exclaimed Dr. Watson in bewilderment. "How could such an assault have occurred?"

The early morning dew-covered Holmes' brow as he wiped it off. It was odd that the overcast had been so damp in southern England this time of year. The weather was foul and dreary, with intermittent downpours and frigid wind gusts. "Miserable crap!" the Doctor complained.

From the upper left breast pocket of his heavy wool trench coat, the Doctor retrieved a pencil and a black leather cover notebook and set to work. Shortly after, he searched for the most accurate words to describe the horrifying crime scene.

Watson slowly hung his head. "Such a shame!" he whispered in a low voice. "My God! What a mess indeed! That stain there shall never come out, I'm afraid!"

In the distance some jackass newbie cop could be heard laughing.

"Poor chap! Nice jacket, such a waist... no pun intended." He looked up. "Ha, ha! Just kidding!"

Another jackass cop chimed in!

The body was in a dreadful state; they had drained all the blood from it, leaving only a lifeless heap, like the gutting of a deer deep within the Adirondack wilderness.

The stomach was removed and rotted in the alley's filth. However, they had used no instruments. Throughout the morning, the fog lifted in London and carried the stench upward and into the city's heart. The smell was enough to gag a maggot!

Inspector Holmes has now spoken. "It looks nastier than most cadavers I've seen."

"Not nearly as nasty as me ex-wife, though!" Confirmed Watson as some Keystone cop to his right vehemently agreed. "YA! She is a kinky one... nassy as hell!"

Sherlock Holmes had a look of suspicion. "Not sure why it was done." He kneeled. "I’d guess the corpse was pushing 60, but we’ll have to wait until tomorrow afternoon for the coroner’s report to confirm if it’s Memorex... or just a really old mannequin!"

"What, like last time?" Grinned Dr. Watson.

"I blamed that chit on you... so whatever, Doctor Go-getter!"

Using his right hand, Holmes reached into the deceased man's vest pocket. They had ripped several pages of an old Bible from the binding of a tightly folded bundle of papers. He placed the documents in a manilla-style envelope into his black leather briefcase. "Yes, I agree. It had an impact, for sure," he said. "Rather interesting."

Scrutinizing the remains for damage or injuries, the Doctor turned the body onto its side. He noted that neither an entry nor an exit wound was visible.

Holmes slowly stood up and stared at the floor. "So, the plot thickens. I see," he said, removing the surgical gloves from his hands and returning them to his pocket. "Another homicidal psychopath on the loose in this filthy city."

He then replaced his brown deer stalker hat. "I would say that's typical of the time of year. So, again, the foot-soldier plays. Damn shame it is!"

On April twenty-third, eighteen hundred and eighty-eight, the Royal Court House guards discovered the body at around five-thirty in the morning. That same year, they found other bodies, but none were in such terrible condition.

"It's like they done... toss-ted-ed it out for everyone to see, waving it around like a trophy!" The young wanker guard gestured dramatically to the Westminster chapel behind him while giving his overpaid, underworked ass a well deserved scratch, as if it were the most important task of the day.

London's east end was a crime hotspot that nearly had the Metropolitan Police pulling their hair out, trying to keep it under control.

They soon realized that it was a farce. As victims appeared in the oddest places, this led to the most bizarre crime cases to solve and eventually go into the Cold-Case files.

"What do you make of it?" questioned police detective Mungovan McGaw after re-covering the remains with a dark plaid body rap sheet.

"WHY... YA STARTING A HARASSMENT CLUB NOW?"

"Perhaps! What does dah... skinners look like for me?"

"SHIT!" Bellowed Doctor Watson with a cocky smirk. "And why don't you SCOOT your playful interests over to the north east west side? I hear it could be quite the laugh for you wankers over there! Partners in slime and all!"

"PARDON ME!?!"

"Ha ha! Nok kidding, of course!"

"Well, this is turning into quite the puzzler, isn't it?" replied Sherlock. "A tad on the cheeky side, I must say!"

McGaw let out a little chuckle. "I've always had a soft spot for that cheeky little word... CHEEKY! Always brings to mind those quirky Aussie deralics from down under!"

Sherlock squinted at the note again, as if it might suddenly reveal its secrets like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. "YO! That's not me body... but HEY, it was me choice!"

There was a slight pause, and then an unusual grin appeared, as if someone had just told a really bad joke that only they found funny.

"It kind of reminds me of that bazaart incident in Essex when the zoo handler accidentally discovered those mannequins just chilling in the monkeys' cage." Chuckled the pudgy Doctor.

"I can't help but imagine those chimps are still out there, scheming their next grand getaway!" Added Detective Mungovan McGaw, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just a thought!"

"Why... you into that... demonic kinky chit to, Hairy Trotter? What do you make of mister... sheriff HighNoon here, Mister Holmes?"

"Awe yes! Absolutely, it's quite unsettling! Well, it seems whatever went down here was like a tornado in a junkyard—quick as hell and dropping chit everywhere... and what in the... HELL are you two fools babbling about, anyways!"

Holmes then took another look at the crime scene, as if hoping it would suddenly turn into a game of hide and seek. "I need a beer." He muttered.

"We fount neidder a wound nor a hoe on this feller." Squawked the other young wanker officer with a grin that could double as a picket fence, and his fly is still flapping in the breeze!

"OH YIPPY... Chips ahoy matey!" Grinned the karmic inspector.

"No wounds?" McGaw exclaimed. "The guy's guts are all over the place, for goodness' sake. What do you mean, No Wounds? That would be tricky as hell to pull off!"

Holmes re-examined the scene. "Puzzling indeed! No wounds! No incisions! I'm not sure how they accomplished this." He agreed. "That wasn't the cause of death in this case, nor was this the killing field."

The statement sent McGaw shivers down his spine. In his twenty-seven years of law enforcement, he had seen many ludicrous cases, but none compared to this one. "Okay," he replied. "So what are you two chaps going to do about it, throw a party or start a revolution?"

"Any suggestions there... Hairy?" Asked Holmes rolling his head back! "Ha, ha!"

"ME... chit nah! I'll catch you jail birds down at the pub, where the drinks are cold and the hostesses are even colder!"

"Let's discuss it over breakfast!" said Doctor Watson, snickering.

"Fork-yawl!" Sherlock smiled warmly. "Give me some time, Chief, and I'll deliver my assumption. Many things need to be examined, or perhaps some will go unnoticed," he said. We shouldn't shy away from investigating the hidden details of a case."

McGaw heard precisely what he expected to hear while working on a case with the legendary Sherlock Holmes. He was not quick to react. "A long and drawn-out process," he frequently explained to the mayor. This was often the case.

"Very well, Sir Holmes. I understand." The Chief turned around to leave. "Mister Holmes. May I ask you a personal question?"

There came a sudden snicker. "As long as it doesn't involve... year old lady, go for it."

Some cop in the distance caught on and began laughing.

"Naturally, Chief, whatever your curiosity? Please ask!"

"I have a bad feeling this case is going to end up unresolved. Do you feel the same?"

"Hell, I don't know! Don't really give ah chit eider... I still get paid! Anything else... Dick Chasey?"

The Doctor emphasized, "Not on an empty stomach. It won't!"

Holmes smiled once more. "No chief. Please give me some time. If I have to, I'll just make chit up to fill in the blanks! Been that way for years at my office!"

McGaw nodded his head. He had seen nothing worse than this in all his years of work. "I don't understand, detective Holmes. What about the blood?"

Holmes slowly scratched the top of his noggin. "I suppose it would have been impossible, under these circumstances, as the evidence proves.

"As if something had sucked every drop of blood clean out."

A wrinkle formed across Doctor Watson's broad forehead as he tried to make sense of it. "The blood was the primary motivation, was it not?"

"Quite possible," Holmes said after a moment of silence. "Certainly possible."

They stepped further away from the overpowering odor.
{{{PHEW!"}}}

As he covered his nose and mouth with a hanky, Dr. Watson yelled, "GOOD GOD! I have changed my mind and will have tea for breakfast."

"I'd love to have a big plate of green eggs and ham, Mister Doctor Watson!" teased ten-year-old Aubrey Rose Holmes.

She approached behind, causing the elderly Doctor to jump. "Ew!" he shouted. "HEY! I thought your father always told you to stay in the carriage, yaw little sea-brisket!"

"He did! But I gotten pee!" she exclaimed.

It was Watson who took a step back. He turned abruptly, "That is a dilemma you'll have to resolve on your own, little snot!"
Grabbing the Doctor's trench coat, the petite blonde girl stomped loudly on the ground. "It's serious, Doctor Watson! I have to go! Bad!"

A moment later, Sherlock reached back and grabbed his daughter's hand. "I apologize, Chief. I must attend to some rather important business at the moment. Please excuse me."

Holmes led the young girl down a poorly lit alley and pointed to a large trash bin on the left. "The thing that I can think of is for you to relieve yourself behind that receptacle," he replied, "I'm sorry, Aubrey, but it's the only option under these circumstances."

After scanning the area, Aubrey turned to leave. "Pappy, are you sure it's safe back there? Can I trust you this time?"

Sherlock stepped closer and inspected the dark hidden places. "No worries, sweetie!" Sherlock reported. "And maybe."

After Aubrey Rose finished and was about to step forward, she slammed her big toe into something solid and heavy, hidden in the corner. Almost tripping, she cried, "AH! DANG... SOME-BIS...!"

"SWEETHEART, BE CAREFUL!" Sherlock exclaimed with concern. "I don't want you to get hurt! Besides that, dress costs a fortune!"

The youngster looked at the gadget again, trying to figure out what it was. She pointed to the unfamiliar object and asked, "What on earth is this, Pah... Pah...Pappy?"

Sherlock grinned. "What do we find this time, my fine little turd inspector?"

With a finger pointing downward, she exclaimed, "That! It's flashing! What's up, Pappy?"

In a gentle gesture, the inspector gently pulled his daughter's arm until she stood directly behind him. His attention turned to the strange object. One thing quickly became apparent to him. The object could defiantly present a threat. "I do not know, my Love. Let me examine it closely with Doctor Watson's gas lamp."

Deep within the strange contraption, a high-pitched tone resounded, and the flashing intensified. Sherlock Holmes exclaimed, "Of course! Wouldn't it be interesting to know what its original use was?"

Aubrey Rose responded immediately, "NO! I wonder what it's going to do, Pappy?" she asked, planting her palms onto her tiny hips. "Is it going to jump around? Or maybe blow up!" she giggled.
Holmes turned the girl around and coached her to return to the street with the others. "We can only hope not!"

As Sherlock and Aubrey Rose approached from behind, back at the crime scene, they could hear the Doctor. "Let us pray this incident is not the beginning of something too difficult for us to handle!"