Prologue
As I sat in my unadorned balcony, sipping hot tea on a rainy evening in July, I completed reading yet another solved case of the consulting detective Sherlock Holmes and his partner – former surgeon Joan Watson. It was almost 6 pm and thunderstorm ruled the evening. The loud 80’s music drifted from my neighbors’ apartment in the floor below, occasionally suppressed by thunder. The skies were quickly getting darker, but I could still make out the clouds shifting at a rapid pace. The tiny dark specs eleven floors below were people who moved about the city like ants, running across the streets under their umbrellas and coats. A typical Friday in New York City.
Having found a rare, free evening from my work, I had perused the casefiles of Sherlock Holmes since late afternoon. It was not exactly a casefile as it was a collection of short stories with the finer details intentionally left out, so as to not incriminate anyone in real life. That much was clear. For years, I had followed the crime in New York City quite closely. Going through the cases of Mr Holmes from the unpublished book, made me realize the stories pretty much lined up serially with the cases solved by the 11th precinct about a year ago.
I had found the used laptop in a second hand electronic store about three months prior. I was able to, with some difficulty, recover the files of the previous owner. Among them was the very little known, but quite well written, detailed account of Miss Watson on the cases she had worked with Mr. Holmes. Having fancied myself a keen observer and a bit of an unofficial mystery solver, I must admit that at first I found the methods of observation described in the writing far fetched. But when the similarities between the cases of NYPD and those described in the unpublished book on the old computer started aligning, what little doubt I had vanished. From that moment on, I shifted my focus solely to the cases being worked by the only consultants at NYPD who operated with the detectives at the 11th precinct. Although, the newspapers hardly ever mentioned outside help that the NYPD relied on, I had, on more than one occasion, found quotes by both Holmes and Watson in some articles. There was also Mr Holmes’ reputation that had followed him from his initial work in London. A well placed bribe at Scotland Yard further sealed my suspicions on his bizarre powers of observation. If, indeed, a level of observation that was described in the writing is attainable, I would very much like to see it.
With a little investigation, I knew the location of the brownstone that the consultants reside at. And tonight, under the disguise of the perfect thunderstorm, I planned to make my way to Brooklyn Heights. Let me, for the record, state that I have every intention of getting caught, for I know that I cannot escape the ever watching gaze of Mr Holmes. And that was the point, I wanted to meet him. Learn from him.
I quickly grabbed my dark raincoat, and a couple of protein bars for the subway ride. After feeding Casper, I stepped out into the front room, pulling my boots on. I wondered if I could catch Mr Holmes by surprise. From what I knew about his skills, he would already be expecting my visit.
As I opened the front door to my apartment, it was rather surprising to see Miss Watson standing there with a grim look on her face. And not Sherlock.
“Can you please tell me why you’ve been trying to look into the NYPD cases that were solved with an aid from me and my partner?” she said.
* * *
the Broken Dragon 