The Giant Rat of Sumatra Part XII

It was the middle of the night. And Hemlock the Magician was walking down the streets of Stamford with the lovely Vittoria Donna Gina by his side.

She was dressed in an exquisite red evening dress with ruffled sleeves and ruffles on the edges of her skirt.

Hemlock the Magician was carrying a large staff with him- the sort of staff that Merlin the Wizard might have carried as he weaved his magic in the days of King Arthur.

As he walked along the street, vigourously pounding his staff atop the cobblestones, he sang to the houses about him,

"Ich kann wohl manchmal singen
Als ob ich frohlich sei."

While touching her breast, Vittoria Donna Gina sang in English,
"Though troubled in my heart I sing
With gladness seeming true..."

Hemlock then stopped by the ancient graveyard of Saint Martin's Church and sang while looking at the gravestones,
"Und keiner kennt mich mehr hier."

Also looking at the gravestones, Vittoria Donna Gina threw back her long luscious dark hair over her shoulders and sang in English,
"Unknown here, no kin shall I find."

They walked a little further up the street coming to stand in front of The George Inn.

Hemlock touched Vittoria Donna Gina by the arm and then started stroking her hair while he sang,
Ja, du weifst es teu're Seele
Dafs ich fern von dir mich quale
Lieb macht die Herzen krank
Habe Dank...

Vittoria Donna Gina sang back in English,
"Yes, dear soul, thou know'st it truly,
Far from thee my heart's unruly
Love inflicts such misery
Grateful be..."

"Spending your night singing Schumann and Strauss to the dead and to ghostly shadows," Holmes approached in the darkness from the darkened doorway of the George Inn.

"Mr. Holmes," Vittoria Donna Gina started adjusting her dress and then fussed with her hair.

Behind the golden mask of Tragedy, the eyes of Hemlock the Magician flickered with hatred at Sherlock Holmes.

"It helps me relax," Hemlock spoke.

"And what does it do for you, Miss Vittoria?" Holmes asked as he lit his pipe.

"Well..." Vittoria stammered, "I'm not sure really..."

"Are you staying at the George Inn, Mr. Holmes?" Hemlock asked.

"No, I'm just visiting the Inn on a matter for the Stamford Police," Holmes replied, "Fred Clegg and I are staying at some lovely rooms in the Lord Burghley Pub up on Broad Street. Make an excellent breakfast I must say- eggs, bacon, black sausage pudding, fried tomatoes. They also make the best steak and kidney pie in all of England in my opinion. Interesting Saint Bernard in the pub called D'urberville who's the owner's dog. He keeps the floor looking spotless. Any ale or cream spilled on the floor. It's gone just like that. The barmaid doesn't even have a chance to get a mop because poof! the mess is gone."

"Oh dear," Miss Vittoria Donna Gina turned a very pale colour all of a sudden, "I feel so faint."

"Miss Vittoria needs to go back to her dressing room and take her medication," Hemlock took her arm, "it will be dawn soon. Miss Vittoria needs to get a little rest this evening."

"Miss Vittoria needs to take medication?" Holmes looked concerned, "what's wrong with her?".

"Naturally doctors and physicians don't know," Hemlock spoke in anger, "the idiots. What's up with medical schools these days?".

"If you're ever in Edinburgh, might I recommend you stop off at the University of Edinburgh Medical School," Holmes suggested, "they have excellent and competent people there."

"If we're ever in Edinburgh, we'll do that Mr. Holmes," Hemlock thanked him, "what was this police matter you were on at the George Inn?".

"A woman from Easton-On-The-Hill named Sonia Henderson was reported missing by her husband," Holmes explained, "apparently First Officer Henderson got home earlier than expected on his shore leave from the Royal Navy and was quite surprised not to see his wife home. But he was told by neighbours that she had come into Stamford to do some shopping. And when it was 11 PM, he decided to come into Stamford to look for her. He apparently passed some distraught gentleman in the garden of the George Inn who was shouting, "Where the Hell is she? Where the Hell is she?". Anyways the Stamford Police are scouring the town looking for her. So I was asked by the Chief Constable to make inquiries at the George Inn. He was wondering if the man shouting, "Where the Hell is she? Where the Hell is she?" knew anything about Mrs. Henderson."

"And did you find him?" Hemlock asked.

"Not sure," Holmes said, "I did have one embarassing moment where I walked in on a man making out with one of the beautiful Spanish gypsy dancing girls who works for your Mr. Steinenfrank's circus. She was dressed in some exquisite lingerie I must say and was flogging his buttocks with a small whip. I remember the man was singing a song that went, "You're simply the best. Better than all the rest. Better than anyone, anyone that I've ever met." Judging from the huge supply of combs and hairbrushes he had in his open briefcase, I gather that he was probably a travelling salesman of some sort."

"Oh God," Vittoria finally fainted.

Standing in the threshold of St. Martin's Church just down the street, the mysterious dark haired dark eyed bearded stranger with the exquisitely tailored suit and walking stick- the man that Hemlock the Magician called "the circus thief" and the man that the town's meat pie maker Alistair Campbell called "Antichrist"- stood there observing the whole scene that had just unfolded.


To be continued.