The Case of the Church Lane: Holmes & Watson, #5

Copyright © 2007 by Richard Saw

First published as an ebook in 2013

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

That being said, some famous people do turn up in this and subsequent novels to add flavour or perspective.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the written permission of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binging or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.

ISBN-13: 978-1502964304 ISBN-10: 1502964309

Thank you to all those people who got slightly tipsy over lunch with me and told me stories which are included in one way or another in this book. I was serious when I told you ...that’s going in my next novel.

Stay in touch with the author on Twitter @authorofholmes, search for Richard Saw on Facebook or if you’re looking for something a little naughtier, check out Todd Mitchell’s twitter account @gayjockgeek or the Tumblr account The Erotic Side of Holmes & Watson by searching for ‘authorinsearchof’.

Prologue

The resident of the Lane had taken a long walk by themselves that evening. Summer was just beginning and for once it was looking as if it was going to be a good one. They had left their partner at home – they’d almost run out the door with a shouted, Just going for a walk! – So there was no chance for any awkward questions. Living in a village like this had always been one of those objectives that they’d dreamed of doing. But like so much in life it hadn’t turned out to be quite exactly as you’d expect.

The walk took the resident out onto the Lane itself where – if you had wanted to – you could admire the ‘biscuit box’ cottages. The resident then turned left and entering the woods that sat on the edge of the local riding school. To the best of their knowledge none of the other residents of the Lane – or even the regular villagers for that matter – went into this part of the woods. It gave the riding school a protective front and the resident liked that it gave them a perfect way to head towards the Manor House, unseen by anyone else.

Supposedly once an abbey – though the resident didn’t know anyone who actually believed it, even if he’d caught himself telling the same story to others – the Manor House oversaw the village and the Lane. Both physically, as it sat atop the only hill in the neighbourhood and socially, as its owners dominated everything and everyone nearby.

The resident of the Lane had liked the owners of the Manor House at the beginning but like so many things in life they taste soured. And then the truth came out. Little by little the resident had learnt about the past and then their blood had boiled at the injustice of it all. But revenge was always a possibility, it just took time to enact. And so that was why this resident of the Lane was standing in the nearby woods, watching the inhabitants of the Manor House go about their business. Because in order to take revenge one needed information.

Chapter One

The past year or so had seen Mr Holmes an exceedingly busy man. His past successes had ensured that there was barely a single event of any significance within The City of London that did not warrant being brought to his attention. And subsequently this meant that Holmes’ private life had attracted a great deal more attention than it had in the past.

John Watson had watched the proceedings unfold with a mixture of pride and yet growing concern. He had known Holmes for a great many years and had never before had he wondered if there were limits to the extent of Holmes’ talent and skill. Burning the candle at both ends, as the expression was, barely began to describe the great investigator’s regular pattern of work. Not usually a social being, Holmes had found himself struggling to control the requests on his time. Watson queried the late hours that Holmes was keeping – he even dared query the occasions that Holmes would disappear into the night, only to return hours later, looking less than alert. His partner did not brook any discussion however and continued on, oblivious to the concern expressed by those around him.

I say Watson, he said one day, jumping across the room with more than his usual level of enthusiasm. Have a look at this! and he thrust a crumbled piece of paper into the good doctor’s hands.

It was an overcast Sunday, gloomy but thankfully comfortable after the heavy rain that had fallen the evening before had dissipated. Watson shrugged off his coat, threw it across the back of a chair and sat down. He unfolded the crumbled paper and straightened it out over his thigh. He then held the note carefully up to the light before reading, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Holmes appeared more animated than usual.

Well? What do you think?

Well... Watson was a little lost for words.

I thought as much too! Holmes agreed, nodding vigorously and paced up and down the room. It’s almost unthinkable. I must act swiftly to prevent this going any further.

It is?  Watson inquired politely. Holmes this is not the first I have heard about this sort of thing. I daresay, one would almost describe it as common place.

Holmes’ eyes darkened.

So, they’re forming a Gay and Lesbian group at your work, Watson smiled. What’s so strange about that?

***

Holmes sat in his office reading the email over and over again. He was struggling, half with confusion over what he saw and half with confusion as to his own reaction to what he was reading. It was a Wednesday, the day he was usually most productive during. He should be conducting meetings, writing contracts, reviewing cases. As the first non-named partner in the history of Fothergill, Patricks & Havers, he now had an army of associates who reported directly to him, whose case load was totally within his power.

Being Holmes of course, he believed that his skills were better applied to solving the problems of clients than dealing with the office politics of his junior associates. Thankfully Celine Hudson was still his personal assistant and the thankless task of managing the department had been swiftly appropriated to her. If any of the junior associates felt that it was beneath them to report into a mere personal assistant, they were wise enough not to say so aloud. The only benefit she seemed to see out of the whole arrangement was that her elevated position now gave her the excuse to improve the standard of her work wardrobe without being teased by Holmes for it.

The email that so fascinated Holmes had in fact been sent by one of his junior associates. He had not asked Holmes for permission to send it, though quite possibly, Holmes reflected, he might have asked Mrs Hudson. He pondered whether to ask her. A rare thought fluttered through his mind. ‘Would I appear insecure if I did?’ Now that thought gave Holmes even more to ponder. He was thinking insecure thoughts. Now he was thinking if he was thinking insecure thoughts. ‘Good Lord,’ Holmes conceded. ‘I’m finally ready for therapy!’

As if by telepathy, Celine Hudson seized her chance and stormed in through the door with a bundle of papers in hand. She was momentarily stymied when she didn’t get the customary Holmes greeting, ‘Don’t you ever knock?’

Afternoon Stephen, she said, testing the water. Holmes disliked his first name with a passion and only Watson was ever able to use it – on a semi-regular infrequent basis. This time though, so lost in thought was he that Holmes simply mumbled and waved at Celine for her to put the papers she was carrying down on the conference table.

Is something the matter? She ventured, angling her front foot so that her new pair of Tory Burgh’s were at their best angle. He didn’t notice and thus it was confirmed that something was indeed the matter.

Mmm-ffph, was the actual response. Which was Holmes-speak, for ‘Sort of. I don’t know.’ Celine took a few quiet steps towards him before springing into action and twisting the screen around to face her.

Mrs Hudson! he protested, suddenly bursting back to life.

Mr Holmes! She replied, a bemused smile creasing her face as she read the email. Are you thinking of going then?

No! No! No... I don’t know, he replied, his response quickly going from assertive denial to a state of semi-confusion. He sighed and Celine twisted the screen back to face him before sitting down in front of his desk.

How long have you spent reading that email? Celine queried.

Oh I don’t know, twenty minutes, half an hour... Do you think I’m getting old? He suddenly asked.

Celine wasn’t sure whether he was being serious or not. An email announcing the formation of a gay and lesbian group here at F, P & H is what has you confused? She asked. What did John say? she added.

Oh he thinks I’m being silly, Holmes mumbled, suddenly finding his nails of great interest. But it’s different for him, he snapped. It’s much easier for him to be ‘out’. He’s a doctor and a ‘woman’s doctor’ at that. In fact I’d even go as far as to say that it’s preferable for him to be gay. But this is law. This is different.

They have been given permission by F, P & H to create this group you know, Celine pointed out. In fact from what I hear they were delighted at the thought. They think that if they are known as gay friendly – and I think by that they really mean more than just being ‘seen’ as gay friendly – they will get more of you, she pointed at him to make sure that Holmes completely understood her point. I thought you’d be delighted by the accompanying responsibilities that come with your senior position.

Responsibility in this role used to mean attending dull courses and wining and dining dull people, Holmes replied. Not being the poster child for diversity, he fumed. Sorry, you know I’ve never denied being gay here – or anywhere I previously worked...

It’s just that most people don’t ask, and therefore you don’t have to appreciate people might think you’re different. Celine finished the sentence. You know of course that most people speculate, right?

Yes I understand that, Holmes smirked back. "I’m not that self-absorbed. And anyway it’s a law firm. If any of my staff don’t speculate on my sexual behaviour outside of the office then maybe they’re not the sort of enquiring minds we want and perhaps I should fire them! But I’ve always been a strong believer in the separation of your work and your private life. That’s one of the reasons I’m so good at what I do, he said without a hint of irony. I’ve never asked you to do anything that wasn’t work-related. You’ve never done shopping for me or managed my properties or organised social activities for me. I think those two things should be separate and when I look at senior management at other firms with their PA’s running their lives, well... I’ve always felt a little superior to them."

Well that doesn’t come as a complete surprise, Celine chuckled. The frown on Holmes’ face quickly made her add a caveat. But yes, yes, I understand and I’m probably quite lucky working for you in that respect. I know I’m quite lucky, she quickly corrected.

"And so the thought of being suddenly publicly gay in the office doesn’t make me feel completely happy. It would be like coming to work and finding everyone leafing through your photo album or heaven forbid finding my Manhunt profile page."

Oh I like that photograph, Celine jumped in. I have it as my screen saver. She stopped and looked immediately downwards to hide the smirk as Holmes attempted to silence her with his trademark withering stares.

As I was saying... he snarled. Everyone is sooo happy being public about it now. We have a gay group – dated as that concept seems, the senior partners support it, blah, blah, blah but what makes me worried is being pigeonholed. If suddenly you’re publically gay then I might find I only get given the ‘gay’ cases, that people feel they are able to talk to me, that if I don’t give a gay associate a break then... he left the sentence hanging. Before I was just ‘Holmes’. Soon if I don’t watch out I am going to be ‘the gay partner’.

You don’t think you’re being a little over-dramatic?

That’s exactly it! Holmes exclaimed, raising his hands. You can’t reasonably suggest that what I have just outlined will happen but if it did, would it not be a legitimate concern? Not for anyone else of course, but it would be for me. He added another sigh and rested his cheek against his fist.

You know what this is really a sign of? Celine asked, trying desperately not to smile.

Yes it’s a sign of me getting old and being a nearly 40-something queen who liked the way things were when they first came on the scene. He picked up his BlackBerry for a moment and continued speaking. You know that young intern, Craig? Small, blonde, cute... Well he came in to ask something yesterday and we had a nice chat about how he’s fitting in and so on. Me doing the ‘partner’ thing. Obviously he knows I’m gay, there may have even been a mention of that but absolutely nothing, nothing sexual. And then look, I get this... He handed the BlackBerry over to Celine.

Goodness, she smiled, watching the film clip. It’s young Craig getting fucked up the arse!

I know. He sent this to me on my work phone. It’s the modern way of fluttering your eyelids across the lunchroom. ‘Hi, I think you’re hot and I want you to be my Daddy. Look at how well I can take it!’

What do you think he’s trying to say? Celine asked, bemused.

The scary thing is I’m not entirely sure that he wants sex. I think it’s just the modern way of saying ‘hello’.

Celine looked at Holmes and then down to the BlackBerry and back again. You’re right, she sighed, handing it back to him. You are getting old.

***

Before now, Holmes had never really concerned himself with aging, nor did he really concern himself with any faux