Watson entered the cabin to find Sherlock Holmes sitting in one of the two chairs by the table, on which stood an open bottle of Scotch and a half-filled glass.
"Holmes, you're up at last. You overslept and missed breakfast along with the stop at the port of Cherbourg." Watson said, and flopped down on his bunk .
"Have you already got used to women's clothes, Watson?" asked the detective and took a sip from the glass.
"Not quite yet," Watson took off his hat and wig, threw them on the empty chair, then began to take off his high-heeled shoes. "Weren't you going to see Moriarty board the ship at Cherbourg, dear Holmes?"
"What's the use? He undoubtedly sneaked aboard cleverly disguised and with a false name. We have plenty of time to find him aboard ship. We'll be sure to take him by surprise."
"I watched people board our steamer at Cherbourg. None of them looked like Professor Moriarty. Anyway, we were joined by some outstanding personalities - Anna Pavlova, the famous Russian ballerina, then there was Arthur Marvin, the American filmmaker…"
"Arthur Marvin?" exclaimed Sherlock Holmes, interrupting his companion. " Marvin the filmmaker! That asshole's aboard our ship?"
"Why do you call him an asshole, Holmes?"
"That imbecile made a film called 'Sherlock Holmes Baffled' a couple of years ago," the detective raised his glass and emptied it in one gulp. "Sherlock Holmes never gets baffled, everyone should know that. Would you like a drink, Watson?"
Holmes lifted the bottle and made an offering gesture toward Watson.
'No, thanks. I never drink Scotch that early in the morning."
"As you like, dear Watson," said Holmes, filling the glass again. " Well, what else was interesting this morning outside our quarters?"
"Holmes, remember that peeing man on the deck last night?"
"You mean that psychiatrist from Vienna, named Sigmund Freud?"
"Yes, that's the man. He's sailing to America to give some lectures on psychoanalysis. He travels with a companion, a young doctor from Switzerland. His name is Carl Jung. This guy sat next to me at breakfast. He turned out to be quite a talkative man, and I became friends with him. He even seemed to flirt with me."
"Are you saying that Freud's friend was flirting with you, Watson? I must confess I never thought you could impress a man. Very commendable, my dear fellow. Just don't forget to shave your face regularly and thoroughly."
"I'm just about to go to the bathroom. Too bad we're not traveling first class. First-class cabins have their own baths, but second-class passengers have to use the common bathrooms at the end of the corridor. That's where I'm going now. I need a towel, soap, and razor. Where are my slippers? My feet are so tired of walking in high heels. Holmes, I still don't see the point in being dressed as a woman all the time."
"Watson, you're a criminal, and to escape justice you have to hide your identity."
"A criminal? Me? What do you mean, dear Holmes?"
"You stole a car outside the London Pavilion, you killed a horse in Trafalgar Square, and finally you caused a terrible car accident on Westminster Bridge that probably killed another driver. Although the body has not yet been found."
"Are you telling me that I did all this alone? I thought we were together, dear Holmes."
"You were driving, dear Watson, not me."
"But you gave the commands. You were in charge of…"
"In charge of what?" asked Holmes.
"In charge.., in charge of the situation," muttered Watson.
"Fuck the situation, Watson. In any case, you have to pay damages to the horse's owner. But I hope Professor Moriarty will be able to reimburse us for all our expenses, when he's in our hands."
Watson said nothing, but just stood up and began to gather his bath supplies for his visit to the bathroom. When he was ready to leave the cabin, he stopped by the door and turned to the detective.
"Holmes, you invented it, didn't you?"
"Invented what?" asked Holmes.
"That story about Achilles being hit in the groin when he was disguised as a woman. After breakfast I visited the ship's library and flipped through the History of the Trojan War. There is not a word about such an incident in the book. Yes, Achilles hid among the women of the Skyros royal court, disguised as a girl, but the whole story never once mentions that someone hit him in the balls. His weak point was his heel, not his balls. Holmes, you made that story up."
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"My dear Watson," said Holmes, with a sigh, rising from the armchair to stretch out on the bunk. "The Trojan War is a made up story, from the beginning to the end. Go and take a bath, Watson. And don't forget to put on your wig before you leave the cabin."
In less than two minutes Watson burst back to his cabin, panting with excitement. His eyes were bulging, his face was covered with sweat, and his dress could do nothing to conceal his hard erection.
"She's alive! She's alive, Holmes! I only killed the horse, but not the girl! - Watson shouted nervously."
"Who is alive, Watson? "Holmes asked, astonished at his companion's excited state. "And please, close the door behind you, my dear friend."
"I saw her! I thought there was no one in there, "Watson said after he closed the cabin door. "The door to the bathroom wasn't locked from the inside. I just walked in and saw her there, standing completely naked before me. I saw her body. Beauty incarnate! A goddess! She's perfect!"
"Watson, can you be more exact? '' said Holmes, sitting up on the bunk. "Just tell me straight whose body made your cock stick out so openly."
"Olga Desmond. She didn't drown. She must be not only a good driver, but also a wonderful swimmer."
"Did she recognize you, Watson?"
"I don't think so. She wasn't frightened at all and didn't try to cover her body. Certainly she thought I was a woman."
"A woman with a protruding dick," Holmes grinned, and pointed at Watson's groin. "My dear friend, she never covers herself before hundreds of male viewers, only enjoying the very thought of their dicks rising at the sight of her naked body."
"I don't think she noticed my male reaction to her body. I jumped back quickly into the corridor. Anyway, she's on board this ship. But what is she doing here?"
"Elementary, my dear fellow. She's working for Moriarty," the detective winked at his friend, then stood up and took the bottle from the table."
"Have some Scotch, Watson, and calm down," the detective splashed some whisky into the tumbler and offered it to his companion. "And please do something about your erection. It really annoys me watching it."
