Part XVII The Giant Rat of Sumatra

November 19, 2015 at 8:22 pm (Detective story, Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (Actress singer Vittoria Donna Gina, Faust, Fred Clegg, Giant Rat of Sumatra, Hemlock The Magician, Renaissance alchemist Johann Georg Faust, Sherlock Holmes, The actress singer Vittoria Donna Gina, The Giant Rat of Sumatra, The Sumatran orangutan Darwin, The Sumatran tiger Krakatoa, The Veterinarian Fred Clegg, vampire novel, vanguard of Transhumanism, veterinarian Fred Clegg, Vittoria Donna Gina)

Part XVII The Giant Rat of Sumatra

The Steinenfrank Circus had been closed down by Lincolnshire County authorities for knowingly bringing rodents into county boundaries.

And there was no way for them to deny it with the body of the Giant Rat of Sumatra on the premises.

It was evening and Dr. Faustus aka Hemlock the Magician was loading his belongings into his caravan wagon.

He was returning to Germany along with Vittoria Donna Gina.

Vittoria stood there in a lovely black evening dress and Sherlock Holmes kissed her elegantly black leather glove clad hand.

“England shall miss you, Miss Vittoria,” Holmes said as he gazed into her eyes.

“And you, Mr.Holmes, shall you miss me?” Her deep dark jet black eyes gazed into the detective’s soul.

“I shall indeed, Miss Vittoria,” Holmes spoke softly.

Vittoria grabbed the man from 221B Baker Street and kissed him passionately on the lips.

“Oh God, the game is more than afoot,” Holmes whispered after the kiss.

“I feel it to be so,” Vittoria sighed in ecstasy as she held Holmes in a passionate embrace.

“It’s time to be going, Miss Vittoria,” Faust’s voice showed more than a hint of anger and jealousy.

“Good-bye, Mr. Holmes,” Vittoria smiled at the deerstalker cap clad gentleman.

“Au revoir, ma cherie d’amour,” Holmes reluctantly let go of the enchanting Vittoria Donna Gina.

She lifted her dress to walk up the steps of the caravan trailer.

Holmes dropped his pipe on the ground so he could look up as his hands fiddled around on the ground to find the pipe.

“I did not know the world’s greatest detective was also the world’s greatest pervert,” Faust remarked dryly.

“As Abraham Lincoln shrewdly observed, a man without vices is inevitably also a man without virtues,” was Holmes’ reply.

Faust harrumphed.

“So will you now experiment with rats over in Germany?” Holmes inquired.

In his mind’s eye, Holmes pictured Germany’s Kaiser Wilhelm II on a giant glass slide under a giant microscope.

“I shall continue my work in Mendel’s new science of genetics,” was Faust’s reply, “I’m thinking of working with the Bavarian Forest’s rich supply of magic mushrooms to create new pharmaceuticals and perhaps someday in the field of human genetics I shall create an übermensch.”

“I imagine Nietzsche would approve,” Holmes lit his pipe.

. . .

Sherlock Holmes rode the train from Stamford to London with veterinarian Fred Clegg.

“So you have some business to attend to in London, Mr. Clegg?” Holmes asked the veterinarian as he gazed out at the English countryside.

“Some brief business, yes, Mr. Holmes,” Clegg gazed at the detective.

“And then back to your veterinary practice and livery stable business?” Holmes asked.

“Indeed, Mr. Holmes,” Clegg smiled.

“Ever consider any other plans in your future besides running a horse drawn omnibus service in the seaside resort of Morecambe?” Holmes asked.

“Well, I’ve sometimes thought of going out to Canada,” Clegg answered.

“Canada, eh?” Holmes felt a sudden craving for beer and back bacon.

“Yes, the Northwest Territories,” Clegg nodded, “possibly the Alberta Territory. They say there’s lots of good potential ranch land and farmland in and around the area of the Red Deer River Badlands.”

“That was the area where the geologist Tyrrell discovered 10 years ago bones belonging to one of those giant creatures we call dinosaurs?” Holmes asked.

“That was the area all right,” Clegg smiled.

“I wonder if any such creatures are around today,” Holmes mused aloud.

“Only in the House of Lords,” Clegg winked.

Holmes laughed.

“What about you, Mr. Holmes?” Clegg asked, “Returning to your old haunts in London?”.

“Eventually, Mr. Clegg,” Holmes looked pained as he talked, “I have some family business to attend to in Paris.”

“Oh really?” Clegg seemed surprised.

“Yes, it’s my twin sister Sherrielock Holmes,” Holmes frowned, “she’s done something of potential embarrassment to the family.”

“I didn’t even know you had a twin sister,” Clegg seemed genuinely shocked, “Dr. Watson has only mentioned an older brother Mycroft in his articles about you.”

“Dr. Watson doesn’t know about Sherrielock,” Holmes lit a pipe, “she’s the black sheep of the family.”

“Oh,” Clegg nodded sympathetically.

“I can only deduce what she does for a living,” Holmes looked out the window again, “in her room, she has all sorts of whips and riding crops and wooden paddles and sinister looking hairbrushes. In her closet, all sorts of leather corsets and black velvet skirts. And her clientele is mainly made up of members of the British Cabinet and the House of Lords.”

“And she’s now in Paris?” Fred Clegg asked.

“Yes, it’s come to my attention that she has appeared in several nude drawings and paintings done by that notorious Montmartre artist Toulouse-Lautrec,” Holmes’ face turned red, “such exposure the Holmes family doesn’t really need.”

“You have my sympathy, Mr. Holmes,” Fred Clegg extended his hand.

“Thank you, Clegg,” the detective shook the veterinarian’s hand.

“And will you be telling Dr. Watson of our adventure with the Giant Rat of Sumatra?” Clegg asked.

“No,” Holmes shook his head, “I don’t want every vampire hunter in the world pursuing the lovely Miss Vittoria Donna Gina. So if the matter of the Matilda Briggs and the Giant Rat of Sumatra should ever come up, I’ll just tell Dr. Watson that it’s a story for which the world is not yet prepared.”

-A Sherlock Holmes novella chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday November 12th
2015.

-THE END-