A Study in Satin

by Tigger

Epilogue and Afterward: Mens Sano in Corpore Cito!

 

Epilogue

Irene looked at her onetime maid in annoyance. "Katrina, stop fidgeting. What has gotten into you this morning?"

She should have paid more attention to the smug look on Sherla's face, a look that became even more pronounced as Katrina explained.

"I'm sorry, Tante Irene, but Sherla tied my corset inexcusably tight this morning, and my body just doesn't reshape itself as it used to do." For several weeks since their return from Switzerland, Katrina's body had continued to change. While her stature and figure seemed unaffected, her muscle mass had steadily increased before leveling out at about one and one half times her original weight. Doctor Buchner had examined her on several occasions and had said that her muscle tissue had become much denser than the norm, particularly for women.

"Would you prefer to return to trousers, my strong friend," herla offered, her eyes twinkling.

"No, but tomorrow I will insist that you tighten my corset first, ma petite," Katrina threatened gleefully, "Remember my new-found strength, and what it will most certainly do to you if you get carried away again."

"Enough, girls. We have more important business to attend to. Herr Buchner has sent a letter asking what became of the rest of Moriarty's foul potion. What shall we tell him?"

"Tell him that it was disposed of, of course," Sherla said without hesitation. "Though he is an honorable scientist, I do not think that brew should form the basis for any further experimentation."

"But he already knows of it, Sherla," Irene argued, "He and Dr. Haber both."

"I think that without the potion or the herbs to experiment with, Professor Buchner will not be a problem. He has a scientist's ability to focus on the problem at hand, and he will be all too ready to return to his interrupted research. Dr. Haber, on the other hand . . . "

"I didn't like him at all," Katrina interjected, a shiver of remembered fear accenting her words.

Sherla nodded, and said, "We may need to find a way to watch our Herr Haber, in the times to come. He has had entirely too much involvement with the Kaiser and his minions. It would not do to have the Prussian war machine possess chemicals like those Moriarty desired."

"And how will we stop him, if he tries?" asked Irene.

"'We', Tante Irene?" Sherla said, the twinkle in her eye more pronounced than ever.

"Yes, WE!" both of the other women retorted loudly. "I have not had so much fun in years," Irene went on, "and don't for a moment that Mademoiselle Muscles is going to let you wander off on another dangerous case without her. I shall have to convince Godfrey to participate, for he will become quite the wet blanket otherwise, but I think we make an admirable team."

"Yes, Ma'amselle Cherie, do not even CONSIDER going off without me!" Katrina said fiercely.

"Very well, very well," Sherla laughed, her hands going up in a sign of surrender. "I agree with all your arguments and promise to comply with all your limitations. Now, all we need is a case or two."

"Well, now that you mention it, I may have something worthy of our mettle," Irene said, reaching into her reticule and withdrawing a small brown bag that she passed to Sherla.

Her curiosity aroused, Sherla emptied the bag onto the tea table and found that it held one white ladies glove of a type women would wear out and about on their day's errands.

"That is the only clue the police have on the abduction of a small child. Evidently, the mother went into a dressmaker's shop for 'only a moment' and came out later to find the child gone from the bench and that glove there."

"No other clues?" Sherla snorted derisively, "more likely they found not the ones that were there. I suppose we can assume that the scene was not protected?" Irene nodded. "And that there were no witnesses in that moment?"

"Well, that is a more interesting question since that 'moment' involved a dress fitting which as you now know, dear, takes somewhat more than a moment."

"I see," Sherla said as she reached for Irene's magnifying glass. She examined it carefully, for several moments before looking up. "Katrina, if you are going to shadow me on my cases, it is time for you to begin learning my methods. Please examine this glove and tell me everything about it and the wearer that you can."

Suddenly nervous, Katrina approached the table and knelt. She spent longer than she might have otherwise, but la petite had looked at it so closely, she assumed that there had to be something there to see.

Finally, she looked up. "I am not sure, Sherla. It is a left glove. From what I can see of it, I think it might belong to an older woman, perhaps of somewhat reduced means. She is slender, I think. Other than that, I cannot be sure if she is even the right person to look for."

"Explain your reasoning," Sherla said.

"The left glove part is obvious. It is also a small glove, one that might fit you or I which is why I thought her slender, and yet, see this bulge on the third finger at the main joint? That might be swelling such as from arthritis which is how I infer her to be an older woman. Her circumstance I infer because the gloves are rather dirty - see the smudges on the finger tips? And the index finer has a hole in it - right at the tip where the finger nail would be as if the nail poked through it.

"Well argued," Sherla said with as smile, "Almost completely wrong, but well argued. You do have potential, my love. Our lady is slender, however she is likely young and well off. The swelling is actually from a large ring, which since it is worn on the left third finger, we must conclude is due to a betrothal or other such gaudy bauble. Likely a large square cut stone, too large to be a diamond I should think, but perhaps a ruby or more likely yet, a sapphire. Twenty plus carets I should think. As to the condition of the finger tips, our lady is left handed, thus accounting for the fairly fresh dirt stains on the glove. The tear in the index finger is due to her own, very well filed nail. If you had used the glass, you would have seen that these fibers are sharply cut and not yet frayed, indicating that the tear is very recent. And, she is blond, another fact you could have ascertained," Sherla said as she lifted a long, fine filament from the cuff of the glove, "had you but used the glass. Odd, Irene, that the police missed this clue."

"True enough, my dear, but they did. What do you suggest they do next?"

"I should check the boys immediate family - aunts, female cousins and so forth, and see if any of them wear a ring such as I have described. And I would try to discover if the mother had any reason to wish to have her son removed from her home - perhaps an abusive father. It is entirely too fortuitous that the boy was out there so long, and that he went so quietly with someone in front of a Parisian store in the middle of the day."

"Brava, my dear," Irene cheered.

"You made that up," Katrina said with a lovely little pout on her lips. "No one can tell all that from a glove."

"We shall see, my sweet," Sherla said with a wink, "we shall see."

 

Afterward.

Those who read this record should know that it is based on two diaries found wrapped together with a gold ribbon in a box of my Grand Aunt Katrina's belongings. I am busily searching the rest of her possessions for any more volumes of the diaries apparently kept by herself and Miss Sherla. Unfortunately, I have not run across any further such memoirs, but the attic at the old New Orleans Manor house to which she and Miss Holmes (who I always knew as my 'Auntie Shirley') moved to after the First World War is vast, and I have hopes of locating more such prime source reference material.

The reader may wonder how it is possible, even given the current medical impossibility of the male to female transition, that such events took place. I mean, Sherlock Holmes had documented adventures well into the Great War, and many believe he lived in seclusion subsequent to that following his final retirement from investigation. The answer is we will likely never know. Perhaps, the English government came up with an imposter, much as they did during World War II with Winston Churchill. Having the Great Detective working for British Intelligence, rooting out the Kaiser's spies must have been a great morale booster for the folks on the home-front, particularly when the bomber Zeppelins began attacking England later in the war.

Dr. Fritz Haber eluded Miss Holmes' attempts to derail his military research and became the Father of Gas Warfare. He invented most of the chemicals and delivery systems used by the Germans in their attempt to chemically clear the infamous "No- Man's-Land" that was the trenches of France during World War I.

Oh, before I forget, there were a few other items in the box that contained the diaries. First was a pair of matched magnifying glasses - beautifully crafted with gold frames and rosewood handles - and as clear as . . well, glass. I also found a very heavy box - approximately eight inches long by four inches wide by four inches deep - with a hinged top and a very sturdy hand strap. I believe they called this type of purse-things 'reticules'. Strange design, too, for the inside bottom only went down two of the four inches of the reticule's depth. I suspect, if I cared to cut it open, I would find lead shot.

And finally, there was a sealed bottle - amber in color and about two hundred and fifty milliliters inside. It had no label on it, but it did smell faintly of something floral or herbal. It is still mostly full. If it is what I think it is, that is enough for four, five, maybe even six transitions. If it is still viable after all these years.

And I have no better idea what to do with it than Aunt Shirley. . err. . Sherla and Katrina did. Could turn out to be very dangerous stuff in the wrong hands. There is more than likely someone, somewhere who would find Moriarty's idea of a weapon of mass feminization as a very strategically beneficial concept. Particularly those who still do the "winners and spoils" thing. The thought of a weapon like that in the hands of a Hitler is terrifying. The Battle of the Bulge might have had more than one connotation in modern history. On the other hand, it seemed to turn out well for my Aunt Shirley.

Then again, it might not be Moriarty's potion at all. I wonder how I might test it?

Tigger DeMilne June 1, 2000.

 

 

*********************************************
© 2002 by Tigger. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.