JWP25: The Girl Who Knew Too Much
Jul. 25th, 2018 12:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sherlockian_synThis fic was written for Day 25 of the ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
watsons_woes July Writing Prompts challenge.
Who Let That Fat Belgian Bastard In Here? Have Holmes and/or Watson run into another detective we might know from another book/series/film.
“Qu'est-ce?”
A delicate, female voice crackled from the intercom. Shirley held down the button next to the speaker so she could respond.
“Miss Drew? This is Shirley Holmes.”
“Oh! I’ve been expecting you! I’ll buzz you up.”
A buzzer sounded, and the door to the apartment building unlatched. Jane motioned for Shirley to go ahead of her. “Ladies first.”
Shirley smiled and pushed open the door. They climbed up a few flights of stairs and made their way down to the end of the hall to Miss Drew’s apartment. Shirley knocked on the door.
“What’s her name again?” Jane whispered.
“Nancy. Nancy Drew. She was working as Madeline Highcastle’s personal assistant at the time of her death.”
Nancy threw open the door, an eager smile plastered on her face. She was blonde and blue-eyed and quite lovely, if Shirley was being honest with herself. Not as lovely as Jane, of course.
“Miss Holmes! So good of you to come by!” She stepped aside and gestured for them to come in. “I’ve just put on the kettle, and I have some snacks set out too.”
Jane smiled politely. “Thank you so much, you shouldn’t have.”
Nancy shrugged. “I don’t have guests too often, so I like to make the ones that do drop by feel especially welcome -” She stopped in the middle of her thought. “You’re Jane Watson, aren’t you?”
Jane nodded. “That’s what they call me.”
“That picture you have on your blog, the one with Shirley wearing the deerstalker cap and you’re wearing the rainbow scarf? I absolutely love that scarf, where did you get it?”
“Off of a clearance rack, can you believe it?”
Nancy grinned and put a hand on Jane’s shoulder. “What a lucky find! I read your blog all the time. It’s so fascinating!”
Shirley’s eye twitched.
The tea kettle sang and Nancy scampered into her small kitchen to finish making tea.
Jane sat down on the loveseat opposite the sofa, the only two pieces of furniture in the small living room besides the coffee table in the middle. Shirley sat down right next to her, leg pressed against leg, and took Jane’s hand in hers.
Jane glanced down at their joined hands in Shirley’s lap, and looked back up. “Everything all right?”
Shirley nodded but didn’t look at Jane. “Yes. Absolutely.”
Jane squeezed Shirley’s hand. “Jealous?”
“No!” Shirley seethed, shooting Jane an incredulous look. “Why would I be jealous?”
“A pretty girl complimented my rainbow scarf. You know, the one that makes you roll your eyes whenever I put it on. Plus, she reads the blog.”
“So the both of you have the same awful taste in fashion. Why should I care?” The longer Jane pushed the subject, the more frustrated and annoyed Shirley got. Her grip on Jane’s hand was getting almost painful.
“Take a deep breath, Shirl. Remember, I’m not going to a romantic dinner with Nancy Drew tonight. I’m going with you.”
Shirley did as Jane suggested, and took a deep breath. “Right.”
At that moment, Nancy walked into the living room with a tray of steaming teacups. She handed each of them their cup and then unceremoniously plopped down on the couch.
“So, Miss Holmes. You had some questions about Mrs. Highcastle, right?”
Shirley set down her teacup. “I do. Tell me Nancy, during your employment as Mrs. Highcastle’s personal assistant, did you ever encounter a woman by the name of Jamie Moriarty?”
Nancy froze, her teacup stopping just short of her mouth. Her eyes went wide.
“Yes,” she whispered, “I did.”
Shirley slid forward to the edge of her seat. “I need you to tell me everything you know.”
Nancy put her teacup down without taking a sip. “Miss Holmes -”
“Please, call me Shirley.”
“Shirley...the most important thing I can tell you is to not get involved with her. Nothing good can come from it.”
Jane shook her head. “We know, Nancy. But whatever game Moriarty is playing, whatever she's planning... we're already part of it. There's no turning back for us now. We need all the help we can get.”
Nancy sighed and picked up her cup again, taking a sip before putting the cup back down. “Wait here just a moment.” She stood up and disappeared into the next room over. She returned shortly thereafter with a folder, heavy with documents. Nancy sat back down, the folder sitting in her lap.
“I’m no consulting detective, mind you, but I have solved a few mysteries in my lifetime. The first time I met Jamie Moriarty, I had a hunch that something was amiss. And my hunches aren’t usually wrong.”
She opened up the folder and began flipping through its contents - pages of notes, letters both handwritten and typed, photos, receipts.
“So I started to squirrel away things that I found suspicious. After Mrs. Highcastle was murdered, I left London immediately. I was afraid Moriarty knew what I’d been doing.”
Nancy closed the folder and handed it to Shirley.
“Take it with you. My part in this is over now.”
Shirley clutched the folder in her hands and nodded slowly, but said nothing. Jane stepped in to fill the silence.
“Thank you Nancy. We really do appreciate it.”
Nancy cleared her throat. “You’re welcome.”
“I just have one more question, Miss Drew,” Shirley added.
“What’s that?”
“Do you have a recommendation for a quality restaurant near the Eiffel Tower?”
watsons_woes July Writing Prompts challenge.Who Let That Fat Belgian Bastard In Here? Have Holmes and/or Watson run into another detective we might know from another book/series/film.
“Qu'est-ce?”
A delicate, female voice crackled from the intercom. Shirley held down the button next to the speaker so she could respond.
“Miss Drew? This is Shirley Holmes.”
“Oh! I’ve been expecting you! I’ll buzz you up.”
A buzzer sounded, and the door to the apartment building unlatched. Jane motioned for Shirley to go ahead of her. “Ladies first.”
Shirley smiled and pushed open the door. They climbed up a few flights of stairs and made their way down to the end of the hall to Miss Drew’s apartment. Shirley knocked on the door.
“What’s her name again?” Jane whispered.
“Nancy. Nancy Drew. She was working as Madeline Highcastle’s personal assistant at the time of her death.”
Nancy threw open the door, an eager smile plastered on her face. She was blonde and blue-eyed and quite lovely, if Shirley was being honest with herself. Not as lovely as Jane, of course.
“Miss Holmes! So good of you to come by!” She stepped aside and gestured for them to come in. “I’ve just put on the kettle, and I have some snacks set out too.”
Jane smiled politely. “Thank you so much, you shouldn’t have.”
Nancy shrugged. “I don’t have guests too often, so I like to make the ones that do drop by feel especially welcome -” She stopped in the middle of her thought. “You’re Jane Watson, aren’t you?”
Jane nodded. “That’s what they call me.”
“That picture you have on your blog, the one with Shirley wearing the deerstalker cap and you’re wearing the rainbow scarf? I absolutely love that scarf, where did you get it?”
“Off of a clearance rack, can you believe it?”
Nancy grinned and put a hand on Jane’s shoulder. “What a lucky find! I read your blog all the time. It’s so fascinating!”
Shirley’s eye twitched.
The tea kettle sang and Nancy scampered into her small kitchen to finish making tea.
Jane sat down on the loveseat opposite the sofa, the only two pieces of furniture in the small living room besides the coffee table in the middle. Shirley sat down right next to her, leg pressed against leg, and took Jane’s hand in hers.
Jane glanced down at their joined hands in Shirley’s lap, and looked back up. “Everything all right?”
Shirley nodded but didn’t look at Jane. “Yes. Absolutely.”
Jane squeezed Shirley’s hand. “Jealous?”
“No!” Shirley seethed, shooting Jane an incredulous look. “Why would I be jealous?”
“A pretty girl complimented my rainbow scarf. You know, the one that makes you roll your eyes whenever I put it on. Plus, she reads the blog.”
“So the both of you have the same awful taste in fashion. Why should I care?” The longer Jane pushed the subject, the more frustrated and annoyed Shirley got. Her grip on Jane’s hand was getting almost painful.
“Take a deep breath, Shirl. Remember, I’m not going to a romantic dinner with Nancy Drew tonight. I’m going with you.”
Shirley did as Jane suggested, and took a deep breath. “Right.”
At that moment, Nancy walked into the living room with a tray of steaming teacups. She handed each of them their cup and then unceremoniously plopped down on the couch.
“So, Miss Holmes. You had some questions about Mrs. Highcastle, right?”
Shirley set down her teacup. “I do. Tell me Nancy, during your employment as Mrs. Highcastle’s personal assistant, did you ever encounter a woman by the name of Jamie Moriarty?”
Nancy froze, her teacup stopping just short of her mouth. Her eyes went wide.
“Yes,” she whispered, “I did.”
Shirley slid forward to the edge of her seat. “I need you to tell me everything you know.”
Nancy put her teacup down without taking a sip. “Miss Holmes -”
“Please, call me Shirley.”
“Shirley...the most important thing I can tell you is to not get involved with her. Nothing good can come from it.”
Jane shook her head. “We know, Nancy. But whatever game Moriarty is playing, whatever she's planning... we're already part of it. There's no turning back for us now. We need all the help we can get.”
Nancy sighed and picked up her cup again, taking a sip before putting the cup back down. “Wait here just a moment.” She stood up and disappeared into the next room over. She returned shortly thereafter with a folder, heavy with documents. Nancy sat back down, the folder sitting in her lap.
“I’m no consulting detective, mind you, but I have solved a few mysteries in my lifetime. The first time I met Jamie Moriarty, I had a hunch that something was amiss. And my hunches aren’t usually wrong.”
She opened up the folder and began flipping through its contents - pages of notes, letters both handwritten and typed, photos, receipts.
“So I started to squirrel away things that I found suspicious. After Mrs. Highcastle was murdered, I left London immediately. I was afraid Moriarty knew what I’d been doing.”
Nancy closed the folder and handed it to Shirley.
“Take it with you. My part in this is over now.”
Shirley clutched the folder in her hands and nodded slowly, but said nothing. Jane stepped in to fill the silence.
“Thank you Nancy. We really do appreciate it.”
Nancy cleared her throat. “You’re welcome.”
“I just have one more question, Miss Drew,” Shirley added.
“What’s that?”
“Do you have a recommendation for a quality restaurant near the Eiffel Tower?”
