The Case of the Black Arrow (A Great Mouse Detective Fanfic) (COMPLETED)

Chapter 6

Things happened quickly once Basil and I got Miss Fletcher inside. We sat her gingerly on the sofa; Basil removed her heavy wool coat while I retrieved my medical bag. Miss Fletcher groaned painfully as Basil assisted her, which I took as a positive sign. The sooner she regained consciousness, the better, especially if she had any head injuries.

"We'll have to remove her jumper as well. She has a wound in her side that needs tending to," I said.

"I don't think I can do that without aggravating her injuries," replied Basil uncertainly.

I spotted a solution on Basil's work table, "Hand me those shears. I'll have to cut it off of her".

He did as I instructed, and I sat down on the ottoman of Basil's armchair so I could begin working. I snipped her jumper from hem to neckline. Basil removed it, and together we laid her down. It was at that moment Mrs. Judson decided to make an appearance. Bursting forth from the kitchen, she was carrying a tray of tea and cheese crumpets for us, completely oblivious to what was going on right in front of her. After setting down the tray and turning to face us, the expression on her face shifted from jovial to confused to horrified realization to thoroughly irritated. It would have been almost comical if not for the dire circumstances.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded. "Is that The Black Arrow? The one I've been reading about in the papers? Why is he in my sitting room bleeding on my sofa? Mr. Basil, if you've done something--"

"I assure you, madame, this time I have done nothing," replied Basil with a sniff, "but this mouse has been injured, and needs help".

I noted the neutral way Basil spoke of Miss Fletcher, and wondered why he continued to keep her sex a secret from everyone except me. I also found it odd that Mrs. Judson failed to notice that the topless mouse lying on our sofa was female. But, after thinking about it, Miss Fletcher only had the barest hint of a feminine body, a combination of her spartan lifestyle and androgynous inclinations. I suppose it really wasn't difficult to mistake her for a man if you weren't looking too closely.

There was a beat of silence from our landlady, then, "What do you need me to do?"

"Boil some water and add salt to it. I'd say about a quarter cup or so if you're going to boil the water in the kettle. And bring me some clean towels," I said. Being no stranger to the dangers and quirks of our profession, Mrs. Judson did not protest or argue further; she leveled a stern look at Basil and me, and marched back to the kitchen. While waiting for her to return, I started to examine the laceration in Miss Fletcher's side. Blood matted the fur surrounding the area, and the wound was still seeping. I prayed that Mrs. Judson would hurry. The risk of Miss Fletcher contracting an infection was getting higher by the moment, but until the water was boiled and then cooled enough to use, there wasn't much I could do besides continue my examination.

Looking at the wound, I noticed something odd, but would need a better look to confirm my suspicion, "Basil, may I borrow your magnifying glass for a moment? And do bring me a lamp. I need more light".

"Yes, of course". Basil immediately handed me the magnifier that he kept on his person at all times. It took only a moment for him to grab the lamp off his side table.

"Oh, dear," I said once I made my diagnosis.

"What is it, Dawson?" inquired Basil.

"When I first discovered this wound, I thought it was a laceration, but that's only partially true. See here?" I pointed to one side of the cut. "This part was punctured. It's quite shallow, but the tissue is damaged differently than the rest".