Trails of Intertwined Stars: Chapter 74 {Part 1}

~Chapter 132: Detective Holmes~

The next day I returned to the manor, I was saw the paper, headlining my statement. With anticipation, I picked it up, and read it, hoping to start to see the difference I was making to the world. Hoping people would recognise it. Hoping that they could see, just as clearly as Julian and I, that we were improving science for the greater good. Yet I was rather startled to find that they saw me as some sort of crook...a criminal, you could say. I never felt so angered before. I stormed to the servant kitchen, which was fortunately empty, watched the newspaper burn on the stove; seething. Once satisfied, I turned and left it to burn, and decided I would keep committing till the world saw what good I was doing.

"Hah, so you were the idiot that nearly set the house on fire after I woke up from my nightmare!" Jiu scoffed," I thought no servant would be dumb enough to do that. Only an arrogant, narcissistic pri-"
Henry twisted the gun and fired it at the wood at the altar, making Leora flinch and move suddenly, her wounds bleeding as she cried out. Jiu grew silent, automatically standing to help her, but Henry shoved him back down, pressing the gun to his head.
"I don't remember telling you to get up and console her," Henry hissed," Listen, I'm not done. As you know, I left for a longer stay in London once again..."

Julian and I walked down the corridor of the manor, into the foyer. You passed us, and then stopped suddenly.
"Leaving again?" You asked, nosy per usual.
I nodded, dismissively," Yes, business doesn't stop, especially not with all these issues in Whitechapel. We shall be back later this evening."
I couldn't help but sigh, glancing at the foyer," It is nice, to get out of the house once in a while, if I do say so myself."
The corridor upstairs creaked, as, after all, the staircase was in the foyer. I grimaced, uneasy, imagining Duncan watching us.
"Yes, a way out of this place is always much deserved..."
I left, without hesitation, and Julian followed after me. The wind was strong that day and the grey clouds were gathering overheard, there was something so miserable about it. A rumble of thunder in the air made me glance up, heavy with the burden of what I had done. But, I brushed it off, remembering that this was all for the greater good of humanity. I was the saviour, the world just didn't know it yet.

Upon returning to my surgery, something particularly odd happened. See, I was so used to women coming to it, desperately begging me for mercy, that I was startled to see a young man enter instead. He had dark hair, tied into a small, scruffy bun; wearing a suit, but he wore it improperly and untidy, not even bothering to do up buttons or have the decency to wear a tie. My receptionist sent him to my office, and I couldn't help but narrow my eyes at him, suspicious as to what he wanted here. I suppose I hadn't made it official I mainly practised in abortions, suppose he was visiting for a surgery like in my honeymoon days of opening the business.
"How can I help you, sir?" I murmured.
"I'm not here for treatment," He stated.
"You... aren't?"
I didn't like him. He shook his head plainly, sitting on the chair with both feet on it. How improper, I thought to myself.
"Then, may I ask why you are in a surgery if you have no health issue?" I frowned, deciding to humour him.
"I'm a consulting detective, eager to find an infamous killer going around; do you know of him?" He spoke, as if excited by the topic.
I felt my heart lurch, but played it calmly. After all, how would he know?
"It's hard to not hear about him, he's the talk of the town."
"Jack the Ripper, they call him," He smirked, boyishly.

I resisted the urge to scowl. Society thought me to be a 'Jack'? They had better mean a jack of trades.
"So, Mr...?"
"Holmes," He reached his hand out to me," Sherlock Holmes."
I stared at his outstretched hand, before shaking it, cautiously. He seemed to watch my every move, and I was not too fond of that.
"Mr Holmes," I murmured, breaking the shake first," Why would a consulting detective come to my humble surgery, hm?"
Sherlock sat back, smiling," Simple. I think you're Mr Ripper, Lord Mohan."
I stared at him, my expression unreadable, before letting out a collected sigh.
"That's quite upsetting to hear, whatever gave you that impression?" I raised an eyebrow," I'm quite a humble man, I'll have you know. It's not nice to accuse someone of something so horrific."
"It's clear, truly," Sherlock shrugged, just as calm and collected as I was," I had a little nose about, you see. You, Mr Mohan, have been known to disappear seamlessly. You go back and forth from places, and it doesn't make much sense. You own a surgery, so you must have knowledge in dissecting. You must also have the tools to do so. You're based in Whitechapel, so you must know the area well. I rest my case."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr Holmes, but everything you've said can be swiftly disproven," I smirked, shrugging my shoulders, feeling content that I could disprove it all to shoddy guesses," You are correct, I disappear a lot, but I am a busy man. I have a friend, a fellow doctor by the name of Julian Frost; you can ask him, and he can confidently tell you that I have been with him constantly. I leave London frequently because my little sister, back at our estate, is ill with tuberculosis. If you do not believe me, I can easily hand over a telegram and doctors note proving so. What you say about the surgery is true, I have the knowledge, but I never actually perform any procedures. I'm much more of the owner type, and I leave it to the professionals to give my patients the best results. And it seems your geography is lacking, I'm not based in Whitechapel at all, I'm outside it, but simply close by. I do not know Whitechapel well at all, I'm afraid, I avoid going there; it repulses me. So, Mr Holmes, do I sound like your man now? I'm rather upset you would accuse me, but I'm a man of business too, so I can understand why you felt it necessary to press. Now, I'm a busy man, and you have distracted me from my work. If you have no need for any procedure, I recommend you leave me in peace during my working hours."
Sherlock fell silent, studying me. His expression did not change, but I could sense he was slightly disappointed he had not cracked my case.

"I apologise, Mr Mohan, I shall leave you now," He muttered, standing with his coat and hat.
He gave me one final glance, before he left. I couldn't help but smirk to myself. That idiot playing detective had nearly had me, but I outsmarted him. Everything was going well.