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I was in bed, thankfully neither

alone nor with Holmes. It was with Lacey, one of the gang of Baker Street

Irregulars that Holmes called upon from time to time in his investigations. If

a person thought that they were only boys, it was because they often didn't

look hard enough at them to distinguish what sex was hidden under the dirt and ragtag

clothing.Lacey was a pretty enough girl,

though a little young for my tastes. But she had information to give Holmes, and

as she was still trying to seduce him under the covers without success, she had

settled on me at his urging. I wasn't sure how to take that slight, but seeing

as the price she demanded had to be met, I willingly took one for the old

battalion.But not before I had drawn her a warm

bath and made her wash up. That was an hour ago, and oh how we had passed the

time!"Oye gov, yer not a bad guy after

all. Ere I was under the impression you was sort of a pansy and all.""Well my dear, I'm glad that I went

above your expectations.""'Ere now, don't go getting all

wobbly on me. We ain't done yet, we ain't." She was, as I said, a pretty little

thing and a real shame that she was stuck on the streets of London. But then

the city had hundreds of such waifs, and as Holmes had counseled me in the past,

there was no way a single person could expect to correct the downfall of an

entire nation. These urchins were a wide mix, from hares like me to voles,

weasels, cats and dogs. Most of the latter were mixed breed mongrels, outcasts

and bastard children of middle level males who paid for sex, or raped for it. I

tended to have a dim view of either method of gratification.Since Holmes was outwardly

nonjudgmental about their lot in life, many of the Irregulars were diehard

followers of the great detective. But then, if they had known him a little

better they might have reconsidered. He was actually very judgmental; it was

just that he was that way with everyone. All men had foibles, regardless of

their station, and he found the higher the position, the more people had had

destroyed to get there. At least those on the lowest rungs had done the least

damage and therefore retained more of their innocence. His expectations of them

were on par with their abilities.Lacey was far from innocent, but

then again, for an ocelot of her age, she still had some sweet attributes to

her. It was still very disconcerting in the manner in which she viewed sex. She

was very pragmatic about it, and yet as sensual as the sultry tigresses I had

encountered in India.My problem was that I could easily

get used to having her around, especially here during the bitter winter months.

She too seemed to like the chance to get in off the streets for a while. Mrs.

Hudson tolerated the children, but had she known about this little tryst I

would probably have found myself out  on

the curb as well.Her nimble paws were stroking my

cock as she snuggled up close. "Look ere gov. I'll tell you what you wants to

know, but I like to get me money's worth ya see. ""Money's worth? You make this whole

thing sound like we're in a brothel!" I sounded more outraged than I meant to

be.She just chuckled. "Look gov,

brothels ain't all that bad. Ya git a roof o'er yer head, and at least one meal

a day."I was a little too pompous for my

own good. "Brothels are nothing more places that exploit women!""Oh gov," she said, shaking her

head. "You've gone and gotten it all wrong. Brothels is places that exploit

sad, unhappy men. If it tweren't for them, there wouldn't be no whorehouses

nowhere."I was struck by the sagacity of her

observation. If there was no hunger, there would be no grocers or restaurants.

Where there was a need, there was someone to fill it."Tell me you haven't considered

such a lifestyle!""Considered? Sure gov. A girl hasta

look to the future. I ain't gonna have me good looks and youth forever ya

know."This struck a chord inside me.

"I'll not have you living in a place like that!""No? Then where ya thinking of

putting me gov? As I sees it, you ain't got a say in the matter."She had me there. Outside of moving

out, there was very little I could do for the girl.She kissed my cheek. "You're a real

love, lover, but don't go getting no fancy ideas. They won't work ya see, not

unless ya got more brains and money than ya let onto.""Have you ever asked Holmes about

it?""What? Ole Sherlock? He ain't got

that much interest in us. We do the occasional errand and get the occasional

shilling, but that's about it."At this point she apparently grew

tired of talking. By this time my cock was well enflamed with lust and ready to

be satiated. Lacey disappeared under the covers, and a moment later a long

drawn out moan escaped my lips. She was enough to make even the

most jaded duke or earl swear allegiance to her. She might even have given the

fabled Hellfire Club a run for their money.She hardly needed to stimulate me

into more action, but I think she liked to exert her feminine wiles in a manner

that displayed her ability to be more than a passive bedtime toy. I would never

presume to make that mistake again. The first round had been like wrestling

with a rabid thuggee until I finally gave up and let her have her way.She was a lot like Holmes. There

were times when you just let him have his way. I found that I was often better

for it. The same applied here and now. My eyes rolled back in my skull as she

did things I had only ever vaguely imagined in all my years on this world.After growing bored with making

sure I knew who was boss, Lacey climbed up, sat on my crotch and rubbed her wet

patch over my cock until I was ready to go mad. She might adore the ultimate action,

but she sure knew how to prolong the time leading up to it. And to think, all

this over a piece of information that she still hadn't given up.She finally slipped that tight hole

of her's over my throbbing manhood. One thing was for sure, she knew already

how to control a man, a skill many a female didn't learn until they were in

their thirties. Holmes was wiser than I gave him credit for, for avoiding the

trap that was the female animal was probably one of the wisest a man could

make. But oh the pleasure that was to be missed for making such a decision! Me? I think I would prefer to be that fool any

day.Despite her diminutive size, she

was still a wily handful to try and control, and unlike the first time, I

quickly settled down to letting her have free reign of the situation. Her toes

hooked into the sides of my thighs as her fingers clutched my ribs with the

force of a vice. It was also a mistake to underestimate the general strength

the street urchins had, for they might be thin and woeful looking, but they

were hardened to a rough life and were solid where it mattered.Lacey was in fact, devoid of

breasts, not because of her age precisely, nor her species, but because she was

lean and fit to the point of being feral. A comparable girl from a wealthy

family would have weighed more, and had small, soft doughy breasts on her

chest. I knew all about the differences a soft living can have, for I was one

of the few who had returned from the Indian campaigns, and I had seen a great

deal during my years across the globe.But never had I ever considered

having relations with any of the native girls that had flocked around our camp.

Now I was beginning to think my prudishness had gotten the better of me.Just then a knock came at the door.

"Watson? Lacey? Take your time, but if you would, dear girl, please relay the

information I asked for. I would really like to get this case solved."He had impeccable timing. But it

didn't bother her at all."Oye, Sherry-boy. The man you want

is one Phineas Malcolm Jones, of the Tinmarket Street money house of Shrewsbury

and Sons. He has a limp on the right, a dropping eye, and carries a silver

pocket watch in his left coat pocket.""Good girl. That fits the very description

I too had rationalized. Well, I'm off to acquire a loan from Shrewsbury's. You

two enjoy the rest of the day. I'll tell Mrs. Hudson to skip tea this

afternoon, unless you plan on being done anytime soon?""Skip the tea gov. I've got what I

needs for me satisfaction right here.""Is that alright with you Watson?'"As the lady likes Holmes."I heard a chuckle."Watson, I think

she has her claws in you.""She does. Now please depart and

leave us in peace!"I could hear him chuckling to himself

as he put on his greatcoat and deerstalker before heading down the stairs. He

was whistling a lilting tune whose title was escaping me at the moment. I'm

sure it meant something, but I was too distracted to dwell on it for long.Lacey was splayed out like a frog

on top of me, and her strong movements and muscular tone was more than enough

to drive just about everything out of my head. When confronted with such a

choice in the future, I would likely still hesitate, unless it was this dear

creature right here.While in truth I had been with

relatively few females in my lifetime (the aforementioned prudery, remember?) I

was amazed at her abilities. Her insides had the strength of a man's fist, and

her grip on me was amazingly strong. If not for the ample lubrication she

somehow generated, I thing she could have ripped my cock out by the roots and

sucked it inside her womb, not that I think it would have fit.She was going at an ever quickening

pace until I could no longer contain myself. I burst forth, my own paws placed

firmly against her delicate sides. I heard her say, in a half-groan,

half-whisper; oh no you don't!Her hips renewed their activity

until she was biting my chest in an effort to stifle her yells. She was truly a

wise girl who knew better than to attraction the attention of a fussy matron

like Mrs. Hudson.When she was done, we were both

nearly sobbing; me from the teeth marks in my skin, and her from the overload

of joy from our sexual union. I wasn't disparaging our tryst, only regretting that

I didn't have a sock handy for her mouth. Her teeth were as solid as any of her

kind and just as sharp.As soon as she got her wind back,

she apologized."Soorry doctor. Tis a hard thing to

do, keeping quiet and all, when you're overcome with the finer emotions.""No apology necessary. Even if the

bite leaves a scar, no one will see it but me."She wiggled her hips and groaned.

"And me?""Yes, I suppose that can be

arranged now and again.""How about now?""How about not! Despite what Holmes

may have told Mrs. Hudson, she is a woman of peculiar punctuality, and if she

knows I am here, she will still bring the tea. So I would suggest you get

dressed and be sitting out in the red chair within;" here I looked at my watch,

"five minutes and thirty seven seconds."She was no fool. She pulled herself

off with a whine, dabbed herself off with one of my shirts that was laying in

the pile to be washed, and slipped her tattered dress on only to vanish through

the door a few seconds later.I followed as quickly as I could,

and was just entering the room when sure as the stars twinkle in the night sky;

Mrs. Hudson arrived with a laden tray."Doctor Watson, I really wish you'd

take care with the company you keep.""Mrs. Hudson, Lacey is here on

Sherlock Holmes' business. I see no reason to be disrespectful to her just

because of her age and station.""I am more worried about her

infesting this place with fleas.""Shall I have her take a bath

before she leaves?" I asked sarcastically."Before she arrives would be far

batter!" She turned and stomped down the stairs. "Oye! She's an uptight one, now

ain't she?""She has a good heart, even if it

tends to be a little misdirected from time to time. She does put up with

Sherlock after all and that should say great things about her right there."Lacey relented. "She's done me no

'arm. I don't remember me own mum much, so I don't have nothing to judge her

by.""Well, enough words for now. Shall

we have tea?"The room went silent for a bit.It was disturbed a small while

later by Mrs. Hudson again. She dropped off the afternoon mail, which included

a telegram from across town. Since it was addressed to Holmes, I knew better than

to let my curiosity get the better of meHe returned a less than an hour

later, his pant cuffs wet and dirty from the brown slush the streets suffered

under in this arctic weather. It was obvious that he had done some walking."Welcome back Holmes. Stretching

your legs a little?""Honestly Watson, much more than my

feet have enjoyed. But I did find the gentleman I was after, and have now given

the lead to the police. It was a petty little crime after all and hardly worthy

of my time and your notebooks."I tossed the telegram at him. "This

came in the latest batch of papers.""What? And you didn't succumb to feline-killing

curiosity? I say Watson; this girl is sapping your natural investigative

abilities.""Since I had none to begin with, I

think she is the inherent loser."He tore it open. "From Scotland

Yard! There has been a murder and Lastrade has requested my presence. I guess

we are off again.""You said he requested you.""Yes, but then if Lastrade had any

sense, he'd know we work together. And for that matter, you come along too

Lacey. You never know when a sharp pair of eyes and ears might come in handy.""Really gov?""Of course. We'll stop by the

second hand shop and get you a decent coat first."I was appalled."Why not a nice new

one?"Holmes just frowned. "Watson, think

on it. Where would people think an urchin got a new one unless she stole it?

No, it'll be from a second hard store or not at all."He was correct of course, because

he was rarely wrong. We found a worn coat; a bit too big and a little too

patchy for my tastes, but it was thick and warm and that was the point in

having it. From there, were made our way to the scene of the crime. It turned

out to be in the kitchen of a great brownstone house on one of the quiet

residential neighborhoods.Lastrade had preserved the scene

once he recognized that this case was beyond his simple deductive methods.

Holmes granted that where the man failed as a detective, he made up for it in

knowing his own limitations.The cooling body was that of a

ferret gentleman. His black and white face was a giveaway to his species,

unless it was theatrical makeup, and I use the term gentleman as judging by his

dress. It turned out he was the owner of the house, one Thaddeus F. Radford.

The police handed over one of his calling cards.Mr. T.F. Radford, Dealer in

Overseas Antiquities, Shop  - 17 Orkney

Lane.The cause of death had already been

determined and as it was quite obvious, there was little I could add. He had on

a blood-soaked white shirt, with the crimson fluid having leaked out of his

chest from a narrow wound that ran between his ribs."Lastrade, on the face of it, I see

nothing to indicate a reason for you calling me in." Holmes was rarely amiable

towards the detective, but today his tone held a little spite in it."Look here Mr. Holmes. See that

wound? Now look around you and see if there's a weapon to match it!"I looked too, noting the array of

sharp kitchen knives at anyone's disposal. But the detective was correct in

that there wasn't a single one that seemed to match the wound, and even if one

of them did, all were clean and put away."Curious, but hardly a mystery. The

murderer brought his own weapon and took it with him when he left!""Yes, I thought you might suggest

that. But we do have something the criminal seems to have left behind. I just

don't know what to make of it."He showed us the sink, where an odd

metal rod with a strangely angled cross handle was laying in the basin. The

stopper was in, and the water there was shallow and tinged red with red."You see Mr. Holmes, this doesn't

belong here. The cook and the housekeeper both say they've never seen it

before. What do you make of it?"Sherlock picked it up by the

apparent handle and turned it round and round. It was reminiscent in its form

of a child's drawing of a dead pine tree, with a main trunk supporting side

branches. It was odd looking, but there was no way it could have been used in

the crime. For one, it had no blade. The wound was clean and had been made with

a wide, sharp-pointed, thin-edged blade. This thing would have made a messy

wound. Even stranger was the hollow handle."So Watson, what do you think?""I don't know what to think Holmes.

I've never seen anything like it before.""Me either. You did good to call me

in on this case Lastrade. At first I must confess that I assumed it was nothing

more than a simple murder, but I see now that it is a most intriguing murder.

That is much more interesting and worthy of my time.""What about this weapon?""Weapon? Well, I guess we can call

it a weapon for now, for I see no other purpose to it, do you?"The detective was flummoxed. "No,

but how could the murder have been committed with it?""That is the question indeed

Lastrade. I think I have most of the facts I need now, but if you'll excuse me,

I'll take a walk around outside to look for footprints, unless your wise

officers of the law have already trampled the snow unto submission." He came back in a few minutes

later. "This is very interesting, very interesting indeed. Might I ask if this

murder was discovered while it was taking place?""Well Mr. Holmes, the cook was just

coming back with a load of goods from the grocer when she heard the scream. She

was knocked over by the assailment on her way in as he dashed off.""And she got no look at him I

suppose?""No she did not.""I figured as much. That would make

it all too easy. Did she find the weapon or did you?""She ran to ring for the police.

One of my men noted it and pointed it out."Lacey had been curious during the

whole interview, but she was looking uncomfortable. "Gov, mind if I step

outside. This coat is wonderful and all, but tis a bit too warm to be wearin'

in the kitchen.""Go. But don't go stepping on the

traces. Our dear Mr. Lastrade may still wish to examine them again."I agreed with the girl; the kitchen

was a bit warm for my tastes. I followed as soon as I was able, and Holmes

followed not long afterwards."Lacey dear.""Yes?""Did you see that strange device?""I did gov. Weirdest bit o'

metalwork I've ever laid me eyes on.""Good. Then you'll remember it. I

want you to go and look for something similar. Check out the smithies from here

to Fisherman's Row. Someone had to have made that, and all we need to do is

find out who and for whom he made it."She ran off, but not without a

smile and a smack of the lips in my direction. Holmes turned back for Baker

Street. I followed."What do you think Holmes?""I think that I do not yet have

enough data.""But surely that thing couldn't

have made the wound.""So it would seem, and yet it is

the only thing out of  place.""But the murdered could have taken

the weapon with him.""Yes, but Lastrade mentioned

nothing of blood being on the cook's clothing, and there were no drops of blood

in the snow outside. Both could be expected from a knife freshly used in a

murder.""That is most curious."We walked on in silence until we

found a cab, and took that the rest of the way to Baker Street. The street was

clogged with traffic, and even the sidewalks were a mess of people, snow and

ice. We were about three doors away from two twenty two when a sharp crack

resounded up and down the street.  Ice

from the top of the old building across the way broke under its own weigh and

came crashing down.Holmes seemed paralyzed, but I

sprung into action. Luckily, no one had been hurt to terribly badly, but one

fellow had a gash in his head and another looked like he had suffered a

fractured clavicle. I returned to the rooms a good thirty minutes later,

somewhat angry at his absence on the street. His explanation was hardly one

that eased my anger."Watson, you're a doctor and I am

not. I do what I do, and I let you do what you do.""I'll keep that in mind the next

time you go to inject cocaine.""Yes, please do."I quit talking to him after that,

and it wasn't until Lacey retuned the next day did he hear a word from my

mouth. She was all happy and excited; acting more the part of the young girl

than at any other time I had seen her."Well now gov, I found you're man,

I did. You was right with Fisherman's Row. That there thing was a fish spear,

only an odd one. Only used on one ship, and there's only one man makes 'em."I was ready to make a fuss. "But we

already determined that the thing we found could not have made the wound!""Yes Watson, that was the

conclusion. And yet it did.""Would you care to clear up my present

obfuscation?""I could. Lacey, did you see if

anyone else had purchased one of these devices?""No one but the harpooner aboard

the ship Emerald Sea.""So then, whoever did the killing

is someone from that ship. Does she still lay in harbor?""No gov. She sailing a few hours

ago.""Oh well, that will be a matter for

the police.""So you know who committed the

crime?" I asked, more perplexed now than ever before."It seems obvious that it's someone

from that ship Watson. I will leave it up to the police to figure out how they

will get it back into the harbor.""But the weapon?""Elementary my dear Watson,

elementary.""I am sure that I am stupid beyond

measure, but I still don't see how one can be connected with the other."Holmes took a slip of paper and a

pen and sketched out the metal harpoon tip. "This form, you see, has some

unique structural capabilities. Like in a tree, each branch adds strength to

the whole. Imagine if you will, what this would look like if it were a real

tree."I glanced at it. "A bit like a

living pine.""Correct. And a pine tree in

profile in turn looks a lot like an arrow; wide at the bottom and pointed at

the top.""I don't see what you're getting

at.""I'm saying that all you need to do

is to add a blade to this and it becomes a serviceable knife."I was lost, as usual. "But Holmes,

there is no blade. There never was a blade. It is what it is." Holmes smiled. "I got an idea from

our little friend here when she overheated in the kitchen. After that, I was

struck by the near catastrophe that happened right in our very neighborhood. I

put the two together as the most obvious conclusion to the problem.""Which is?"Holmes sighed. "And yet you still do

not see it. Whoever had the harpoon tip had some experience with whaling in the

winter. Tools ice up all the time. Now what if you took the tip and froze water

around it, and then honed the ice until it was sharp?""That's feasible I guess, but it

would lack the enduring strength of steel.""There was no need. A person strong

enough to thrust it only needed it to be viable for one stroke. After that, he

could have made his way back to the ship with the harpoon tip."I was being to catch on. "And in

the kitchen where he threw it instead, it melted in the heat before the police

ever arrived!""Precisely!""But don't you think you should

tell the police?""There is no rush. I find it

unlikely that they will catch the ship, so the best they can do is to wire

notices to all the ports between here and the Americas. But we will go down to

Fisherman's Row and put up our own notice. It may take some time, but I think our

murderer will eventually end up behind bars.Lacey got a smirk on her face.

"Dontcha mean you'll put em on ice?"I had to hide my grin as Sherlock

frowned at the girl. "I think you've helped quite enough for the day. GO!"She did, with a little skip and a

jump, but not before whispering in my ear promises of future beddings, anytime

and anywhere I chose.It gave me something to think about

while Holmes was playing his violin or spun the drug bottle containing his

favorite chemical concoction in between his nimble fingers. Lord knows, I

needed something to make my days easier. Holmes really needed a better outlet

for his mental powers and inner demons. I would have suggested my present

route, but I knew what he would have said."Women are not for me Watson, nor

for you if you had any sense about you.I would rather lack the sense and

have the companionship. But of course, he always had me.Lucky bastard!