Plan C

The plan immediately following B! An Inspector Haberdashery tale

An Inspector Haberdashery Tale

Artwork by Sam Mendonca

 

 

    Inspector Walter Haberdashery sat alone in his apartment, drinking and brooding, brooding and drinking, staring at the wall, bound and determined to come up with a way, any way, to stick it to that pompousity in a deer stalker hat, Sherlock Holmes and his porker shadow, Dr. Watson.  The drunker he became the wilder his ideas.  How about pretending to be an attractive female, flirting with Holmes, and, when Holmes made a move on him, laughing openly right in the horn dog's lecherous face?  No, that would never work; a hot-to-trot woman and Holmes?  Although when he dressed up in a slinky dress there was little doubt he made one flaming--er--better rephrase that!--one hot woman, it would immediately give the game away to Sherlock; as he'd suspect a trick immediately, for why would any good looking woman be visiting him? 

 

 

      As he was thinking this, he became even more bitter; great man, indeed!  It pissed him off that Holmes was thought of that way, while he was thought of as an idiot in a uniform.  It wasn't fair, or true; he worked his a*s off putting together clues and here came glory hound Holmes; swooping in to take all the credit, at least if the press was around.  No press, no Holmes.  And, he hadn't forgotten Holmes's raging temper.  It was a side of him that most people outside of Haberdashery never got to see.  To the public, he was a crime-solving genius, but he saw Holmes's hidden dark side, and he had the bruises to prove it.  As he was thinking this, Haberdashery took the bottle of Inibro-Thunder whiskey and chugged it, so much so that the liquid poured down his face and made a puddle of drunk on the hardwood floor.  But he didn't even notice; he was burning with rage!

 

 

******

 

 

     After several more drinks, with his judgment pretty much shot to hell, Haberdashery had settled on a plan C.  He'd been kidding about dressing up as a woman and flirting with Homes, but it had given him a another idea, and that was to dress like a woman delivery person and deliver a package full of dog s**t that said 'this side up" and when Holmes opened it, it would fill their apartment with an oh-so-pleasant aroma!

 

 

  He had thought the crap idea was getting a little old, but couldn't think of a better one.  In his drunken state, it sounded very reasonable to him.  He chuckled to himself; it was perfect; the anticipation of the look of horror and disgust on Holmes's face was almost more than he could handle.

 

 

******

 

 

     He took the walkway leading to 221b Baker Street, where Holmes and Porker Boy Watson lived, together.  Haberdashery had long wondered what was up with that?  He shook off his wondering about that, and concentrated on his disguise, as a good-looking female delivery person.  As he was raising his hand to knock, a cigar-smoking very-inebriated woman in high heels and wearing a nightgown nominally tied, but in danger of coming open and that didn't leave much to the imagination, staggered up the steps from the apartment below and slurred in his direction,

 

     "I'm the landlord, what do you want?" and flicked ashes into the nearby rosebush. 

 

     A very-much-surprised Haberdashery quickly got his act together and answered in as high-pitched voice as he could manage, "Oh, I've got a delivery for a Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

 

     "Well, I'm pretty sure they're home, but good luck getting them to answer the door.  Every time I try, they are out.  You know, ever since Mr. Hudson was executed, I've been looking for a new man.  I've hinted to Sherlock, what a piece of hot detective meat, but he doesn't seem interested."

 

     One look at her smoking a cigar and slopping liquid from the drinking glass clutched in her hand and Haberdashery thought, gee, I wonder why, never mind you're old enough to be his mother!  "Well, thanks, I'll just have to see."

 

     With that, he knocked on the door to 221b and waited impatiently as Open-Nightgown Mrs. Hudson staggered back down the stairs to her apartment.  After a few seconds the door swung open and the portly jowls of Dr. Watson flapped,

 

     "Yes?"

 

     "I have a package for a Mr. Sherlock Holmes," he managed in his false falsetto.

 

     "Ah, capital--oh, since you're here, we've got a package we're about to send out; could you maybe save us a trip?"

 

     Oh, he did not see this coming; "Ah, certainly," he answered.

 

     Watson disappeared for a second and handed him a small package, saying, "Just send us the bill," grabbed the package delivered by Haberdashery and slammed the door.  Oh well, he maybe could use the contents to play another ingenious trick on Holmes and Watson.  He walked back towards his apartment whistling a tune; wasn't it a glorious morning?

 

 

******

 

    

 

   Watson lumbered over to Holmes, holding the package out towards him, saying, "Here, this is for you."

 

    Holmes recoiled from it and said, "Keep that s**t away from me!"

 

     Watson laughed and replied, "Oh, come now my dear fellow, a little doggy-do a fellow good!"

 

     Holmes chuckled and responded, "I know what to do with it; Inspector Lestrade has been busting my balls to figure out the name of the opium dealer we're seeking but I'd rather not; I need to protect my source.  We could set it outside his door and pull the same trick of rigging it to explode when he starts to open it.  The look on his face would be priceless, if we could see it!  No, better just get rid of it; take it outside and dump it, then throw the box away.  Remind me to give a bonus to that young neighbor of Haberdashery's who we've been paying to keep an eye on the good Inspector for us."

 

     "I'm still not clear how he found out?"

 

     "Well, good fortune has smiled on us, Watson; our man just happened to look through Haberdashery's open curtains and saw him assembling the s**t bomb; of course, he had no way of knowing what it was or to whom it was intended, but as soon as he told me what he'd seen, the meaning was clear; it was us!"

 

 

******

 

 

      Haberdashery unlocked his front door, sat down in his chair and immediately started opening the package Watson had given him to send.  His mind was already moving ahead to the next way he'd stick it to Homes.  As he peeled back the outside wrapping and started to open the box inside, he heard the tell-tail sound he dreaded to hear.  Hissing, which could only mean one thin--"  'Boom!'  Dog s**t was everywhere; damn you Holmes!

 

 

The End

 

 

Reviews

[Marie]

I don't think plan D should involve doggy s**t. Holms is on to that. Perhaps somethng more sophisitcated...like dead mice...?

[Michael Stevens]

Yeah, I think you're right, but Haberdashery's a bit dense!