ACADEMIA
Based on the movie "Sherlock Holmes"

Cat-astrophe

The heels of my boots clicked across cobblestone early on Saturday morning. Rosy pink dawn peeked over the top of the warehouse. Tendrils of cloud alluded to the rain from the last few days. A few servants hurried about their business, running morning errands for their employers. My eyes scanned the horizon as the sounds of many men at work reached my ears. A clattering of metal and a mixture of various voices with accompanying accents rang through the streets.

As I came around the corner, the warehouse filled my vision and the smell of men and fish filled my nose. I patted my pocket, feeling the small painting of Princess Catherine knock against my thigh. I had to steady my nerves. If I wasn't careful I might pass out and that was all I needed. My stomach grumbled; I had been too anxious to eat any breakfast. My empty stomach coupled with the fish smell made me feel nauseated.

All right, it was now or never. I stepped toward the warehouse, and my anxiety almost made my knees buckle. I forced myself to move forward, but instead of walking toward the open doorway, I went down the alley behind the building. I paused to steady myself and a small movement caught my eye. It was hard to see in the half-light of dawn, but there was a hole in the siding of the warehouse. The hole was jagged, and a tuft of hair was stuck on one of the sharp edges, blowing in the breeze. I plucked the hair from the opening, and pulled a small wrapper from my reticule. Upon comparing the hair from the Weatherby house to the hair found on the scene, it was highly likely that they both belonged to Princess Catherine. What luck! She had probably been here, and recently by the looks of it.

Maybe I had a chance of closing this case after all. I just had to steel myself for what I was about the endure. The men were certain to think me a fool, but I had a job to do. I took several deep breaths to calm myself, and then half marched; half dragged my trembling form toward the open warehouse door. I stopped dead in the opening, my eyes adjusting to the darkness within. Tables formed rows all across the building, with men either dragging fish to their stations with meat hooks or chopping specimens in preparation for their morning customers. Dead fish littered the floor and hung from hooks in the air. The smell almost knocked me down, but I stifled a gag reflex, and approached the man nearest the door. He stood apart from his companions, surveying their work, his hand stuck in his vest.

"Good morning Sir." My voice trembled, my mouth dry.

"Why good morning lass, and what can I do fer ya today? Have ya come to have a look at what's fer sale this mornin?" He tipped his bowler hat at me.

"I'm afraid not. I have a question for you and your men."

"Do ya now? And what might that be?" He still looked amused, though deflated once he realized I was not there to buy.

I dug into my pocket for the painting and held it up for him to see. "Aw, is that yer sweet kitty girl? What a pretty kitty cat."

"Yes, thank you. She's lost you see, and someone said they saw her here in this fish market."

"Did they now? Well, we have a mighty few cats about this place. They like the fish ya see. Strays come in all the time. You may have a look about, but be careful not to get in the way now girl, I do have a business to run." He winked at me, his blue eyes twinkling, reminding me of my grandmother's eyes.

"Thank you very much sir." I tried to give my sweetest smile as I curtseyed. That had been easier than I thought.

That was the first and only moment things would go my way that morning. I proceeded to ask every man I came across if they had seen my cat, and was met with a myriad of responses.

"Are you daft missus?" One fellow asked, turning to the man next to him, "Is she daft?" I blushed and went on my way.

"I ain't seen no cats around 'ere mum. 'e's a right pretty one tho," answered one nice gentleman.

"Why don't ya git on 'ome mum. Yer waistin yer time 'ere."

Some men just laughed, a few looked dumbstruck that I was even speaking to them. Some ignored me, while others simply shook their heads and went about their business. But, "No, mum" was the most popular response.

It was hard enough finding my way around the dead fish, let alone dodging flying knives and cleavers while I was at it. I felt incredibly thankful for the luck that kept me from eating that morning. After half an hour, I doubted I would ever smell anything but rotting fish for the rest of my life.

As I made my way along the gauntlet, I reached where the hole was in the back wall. You could not see it from inside because it was blocked by boxes stuffed with straw. I crept through the maze of boxes toward the hole, a faint trace of light leading the way. I finally had to crawl on my hands and knees, when I thought I heard a faint mewing sound. My heart leapt in my chest. I finally reached the hole, only to find three kittens huddled together. Well, there was proof of other cats here; maybe Princess Catherine was around somewhere.

I crawled back out of the jumble of boxes, and stood up near the wall of the warehouse. I took a good look around. Most of the men had their backs to me, except for those that kept watching me, whether out of good or bad intentions, I had no idea.

If I were a rich old woman's cat out on the town, where would I be? Other than the fish; tools, boxes, carts and various other items I did not recognize were spread among the men throughout the warehouse. A couple of ladders stood against the back wall near me. Gaslights hung from beams along the ceiling. Toward the front of the building, near where I had entered and behind the first man I had spoken to, stood a spiral stair case leading up to an enclosed office up above everything else. A shadow moved behind the blinds, and the door opened to reveal a man without a coat, and his sleeves rolled up. This man, I presumed to be a secretary judging by his visor, promptly descended the stairs. He did this in such a rush, that I thought something might be wrong, but he only walked swiftly over to the man at the door and spoke to him briefly.

My suspicions were realized when the man I thought had been so nice to me at the door sold me out by pointing right at me. I instinctively huddled into the shadows. Upon realizing how ridiculous this seemed, I decided to maintain my dignity and speak to the man face to face, but only after I had taken another look around. The scoundrel would have to physically carry me from the building before I gave up on this case. I must move quickly.

I slinked as stealthily as I could along the back wall, scanning the area for any other signs of possible feline inhabitants. As I moved, I noticed a number of cats living among the boxes. They meowed at me and attempted to rub against my legs through my skirts, hoping for some scrap of food. In the corner of the building opposite the office, there sat a mountain of crates and boxes gathering dust. I couldn't imagine what they were used for, but they seemed to be the home of some ten to fifteen cats. I had hit the mother lode.

My eyes furiously scanned the many cats surrounding me. None of them were white. A couple of cats jumped down from the crates up above my head, and my gaze shot upwards. Up on the very top crate, high above everything else and where she could see all of her surroundings, sat a large, white cat. Excitement flooded through me, but at that moment, the secretary had come up behind me, tapping me on the shoulder. "Excuse me madam, but unless you are a vendor you cannot be…" but I did not hear him finish his sentence because I had leapt up and started climbing the mountain of crates. I climbed furiously, catching my dress on nails and gathering dust and cobwebs in my skirts. "Madam!" shouted the secretary above the din of men and cats, "Madam, please come down! You cannot be in here!" I looked down at his annoyed face, his feet surrounded by cats.

"Just one moment." I never knew if he heard me, because at that second, the crates gave way, and I went crashing down into a pile of wood and debris. Once the collapse had ended, I sat bruised, scratched, and buried in splintered wood. The sudden landslide of crates brought every pair of eyes to my corner of the warehouse. The shock of it all knocked the air out of my lungs, and my corset did not help matters.

As I struggled to regain my footing, I noticed someone else in the pile of crates. The secretary was buried with me. Oh dear, this was bad. I had to get out before he did. I began to wade through the mess as many of the men hurried over to us, either to help us out or simply to escape from their work. The men laughed, even as they helped me out of the landslide. I suddenly remembered what I was after before the crash, and whirled around to look for the cat, but she was nowhere to be found. Dadgummit, this could not be happening.

As two men each grabbed me by a hand, I hurled myself between them. Dashing down an aisle, I frantically looked for Princess Catherine among the legs of the men. I had a sudden idea, and ran to the spiral staircase. As I raced up the stairs, the men shouted things at me, but I paid them no mind. I reached the top of the stairs, and came face to face with a handsome man in a suit. His blond hair was greased back and he looked as shocked to see me as I was to see him. "Um, hello" was my elegant response to his sudden appearance. He must be the manager, I thought, he probably came out to see what all the commotion was about.

"Can I help you?" he sounded perturbed, but polite. "Yes actually, you see I'm-" but I was cut off by a cry of "Sir, SIR! That's her!" Both the manager and I turned around to see the secretary running up the aisle towards us. Damn, I really was in trouble now. I only had one chance. I swiftly scanned the crowd for any sign of a white cat, but could not see anything through the men running around and the crates spilled all about. I had another idea and put my fingers in my mouth to let out a loud whistle. I got everyone's attention at that moment.

"Excuse me gentlemen, I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but I have a request. Do you see a white cat among you?" They all looked at me, dumbfounded. I saw a flash of white out of the corner of my eye, and cried out, "There! Do you see it?" I pointed into the crowd, and just then, Princess Catherine jumped up on top of a table and began feasting on the fish lying there, seemingly forgotten.

"Oh no ya don't you mangy animal," shouted the respective table's owner. I hurried with my speech.

"Whoever brings me that cat, unharmed, will receive five pounds." I pulled the note from my pocket, and every man in the building stared. I waved it in the air as added encouragement.

"She can't be serious," I heard one man say among the multitude of grumbles and questioning looks.

"Oh, I am very serious. Five pounds to the man who brings me that cat!" I pointed, and was relieved when a few men started toward Princess Catherine. What followed cannot be entirely considered my fault, seeing as how the promise of money does terrible things to people.

Two men dove for the cat, and she jumped off the table, into the crowd. The ensuing tumult included several fights, numerous men running about the building, and a ruckus that I was afraid might bring the police.

CKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCK CKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCK CK

"So what happened next?" Watson's blue-eyed gaze was riveted on my face. "I do believe you've been around my friend Holmes too long. You seem to be taking after his affinity for dangerous shenanigans."

"I resent that. My shenanigans are harmless." Holmes retorted in mock hurt.

"Except for the time you were almost crushed by a ship."

"I have no idea what you mean. I was in perfect control of the situation."

"And there was the time you were hung up on a meat hook by a criminal mastermind."

"Then you proceeded to drop a building on me. Again, I had complete control of the situation."

"What about the time you woke up handcuffed – "

"Watson! Stop diverting our attention from the matter at hand. The lady has not finished her explanation as to how she went looking for a cat and came home with a dog." He glanced at the corgi pup lying asleep on his back, all four stubby legs in the air.

"Well, as I was saying, I was worried all the noise would bring the police. Which, it did."

Author's note: Cliffhanger! Muahaha. But trust me, I will wrap everything up in the next chapter. I had so many ideas for this part that it ran a little long. Are you hooked so far? I have a lot of ideas for our next adventure, so you will have to stay tuned.

What do you think of Catherine so far? Is she believable? What about her and Holmes' relationship, any ideas? I put the little tidbit with Watson in here for one person in particular and I hope she appreciates it, teehee. Much more of Watson, Mary, the closing to the kidnapping case of Princess Catherine, and Catherine/Holmes banter to come. Please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think.

-Herstorian

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