Chapter Text
When had his job title changed from "bodyguard" to "babysitter"?
The bodyguard sighed heavily as he leaned against the wall, pondering this very question several times throughout the day. He was at his wit's end now, he really was. And why? The answer was simple. Instead of doing literally anything better with his time, here he was in one of the antechambers within the Old Bailey, watching over an unconscious Herlock Sholmes stretched out on a bench, snoring away. He supposed it was better than what he'd been doing for the past few hours, which was just standing in the courtroom of the Old Bailey like a statue, keeping an eye on Miss Lestrade. Nothing against her, of course, she had been pretty well behaved the entire time, even during her testimony, unlike a certain pair. At least in here he wasn't being glared at by a prosecutor.
The trial had dragged on for quite a while after the recess, to the point where the bodyguard felt his energy beginning to tank again. He supposed the boost from the tea and biscuits couldn't last forever. Progress was slow; the man that had been summoned, Ashley Graydon, did not make it easy by any means. Getting to the point where it was revealed the man had actually been at the scene of the crime, at the moment of the murder, was like pulling teeth, but Mr. Naruhodo managed to pull it off.
He couldn't celebrate for long, however. A bailiff had reentered the courtroom and, in quite an abrupt manner, interrupted the current cross-examination to report that traces of blood had been discovered on a coat Miss Lestrade had been wearing at the time of the crime. The young lawyer insisted that it was not the pawnbroker's blood, but rather the blood of the victim in a previous case involving Magnus McGilded, who had been revealed as the murderer in that crime after all. His words were ignored, however, and the jury quickly turned on him, changing their verdicts to guilty unanimously.
Just when the young man seemed to be pondering whether to do another summation examination, the "bailiff" had revealed himself as Mr. Sholmes. The bodyguard found himself baffled; didn't the man receive surgery less than a day ago!? He would have thought he would still be laid up in the hospital, recovering. Apparently he'd snuck out undetected and made his way here. In the nick of time too, things weren't looking good on Naruhodo's end. The detective requested merely five minutes and rushed to where the young lawyer and Iris stood, handing over a small parcel. Iris' relief was clearly visible even from where the bodyguard stood; she must have been so worried, the poor girl…
Since he couldn't hear what those three in particular were talking about, the bodyguard took the opportunity to glance around the room. There was a dull murmur from the gallery as those in the audience whispered amongst themselves. The judge and jury waited quietly, though a few seemed impatient to get everything over with. From the prosecutor's bench, Van Zieks stared coldly across the courtroom, though whether he was directing his gaze at Naruhodo or Mr. Sholmes, the bodyguard couldn't really tell. Perhaps it was both. Miss Lestrade was fiddling with her coin again, the Skulkins were munching on their fruit, Gregson was…
Hmm…how odd. The inspector was leaning a bit to the side and speaking quietly with Mr. Graydon. He had done that earlier, when Miss Lestrade had been testifying about the McGilded trial some months ago. They'd been quickly called out for it, though they denied speaking to each other at all, and the incident was brushed off. Honestly, Gregson had been acting strange all day. He was especially touchy when it came to the music box disk that had been submitted earlier, protesting quite loudly when the judge ordered it to be played. Granted, when it was discovered that the disk could contain government secrets encrypted within, the bodyguard couldn't blame the man for being uneasy. The detective kept glancing around after that, fiddling with something in his pocket. There were a few times where he turned and glanced at the bodyguard, a calculating glint in the man's eye that put him on edge-
THUD
The bodyguard was jolted out of his thoughts by a loud noise. Mr. Sholmes had collapsed on the floor near the witness stand, out cold. Gregson and Graydon were staring down at him in shock whilst Naruhodo and Iris cried out in concern. The gallery's hushed murmur turned into a hubbub. The judge banged his gavel, trying to calm everyone down while Gregson crouched by the downed detective.
"Ordar! Ordar! Ordarrr!" The crowd fell into a hush once more, and so the judge addressed the inspector, who was checking for the man's pulse, "Dear me, is he alright?" As if answering the judge's question, Mr. Sholmes let out a loud snore, the sound echoing through the courtroom. Ah, so he was merely asleep. The bodyguard supposed the man had simply reached his physical limit and his body decided to just drop right there. Gregson rolled his eyes, standing back up and taking a bite of his fish and chips.
"He's fine," He drawled out, "A bit feverish but he'll live."
"Oh Hurley…" Iris let out a relieved sigh as Naruhodo facepalmed in exasperation.
"How typical for the detective to be even more of an inconvenience after taking up the court's precious time," Van Zieks muttered, swirling a glass of wine around, "I suppose he will need some assistance to leave, since he is unable to use his own legs."
"Right, of course," The judge nodded, turning his attention to a man posted near him, "Bailiff, you and another officer will take Mr. Sholmes to one of the antechambers to rest for now," The men gave a quick salute and approached the witness stand, trying to work out how best to carry the unconscious man out of the courtroom, "Once they have returned, you may resume your cross-examination, counsel," He addressed Naruhodo, who gave a short bow of acknowledgement, "But be warned, the court will not accept any convoluted arguments without evidence-"
"Psst."
The bodyguard blinked at the noise, his attention turning away from the judge to look at Gregson where he stood at the witness stand. The man was trying to play it cool, but he could see that his shoulders were quite tense. He glanced back at the bodyguard and made a small, beckoning motion with his hand, "Oi, Gloomy, get over here," He barely whispered. The bodyguard pushed down his irritation at the rude summoning and stepped over to the witness stand as discreetly as possible, coming to the man's left side. The Skulkins looked at him quite nervously, while Graydon regarded him like an insect.
"Need you to keep an eye on Sholmes there, I'm afraid," Gregson muttered, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead. The bodyguard couldn't help but give him a baffled, exasperated expression, "Don't give me that look, if you knew just how much of a headache I get dealin' with the likes of him-!" He shook his head, taking a breath to calm himself, "Anyway, he's out like a light, he ain't gonna give you trouble. Just make sure he don't come back in here, got it?" The bodyguard dipped his head in acknowledgement, though he secretly rolled his eyes behind the mask. He was just about to leave and do as he was told, when Gregson suddenly turned and grabbed at his cloak, tugging it.
"Cloak's outta place, let me fix that for you-"
'What the hell!?' The bodyguard's eyes widened and he shook the man off roughly, giving him a glare. He did not appreciate being manhandled. Out of the corner of his eye, Naruhodo could be seen glancing over at the commotion, a puzzled look on his face. The bodyguard felt the same way; he didn't know what the hell that was all about. Gregson merely gave him an innocent glance, taking another chomp of his fish and chips, acting as if he hadn't invaded the bodyguard's space. The bodyguard huffed irritably and quickly walked away, exiting the courtroom in a hurry and following the bailiffs that were transporting Mr. Sholmes elsewhere. Between this strange behavior as well as being left in Stronghart's office the entire night, the inspector was beginning to get on his last nerve. Oh well, at least he wouldn't have to deal with him for a little while.
So that was how he had ended up in this situation. The bailiffs had laid the detective across a makeshift bed of a bench and a few chairs put together, then quickly took their leave back to the courtroom, leaving the bodyguard to stand watch. Not that there was much to watch; no one else was in the room other than the two of them, and one of them was dead to the world. He was almost envious of how peacefully the man was sleeping. If only he could get some rest himself.
The bodyguard didn't dare sit down, however; he feared he may doze off if he did, and he was not willing to risk that again. Leaning against the wall was the best he could do. In the meantime, however, he did close his eyes for a while, just to give them a break. He supposed it could be worse; at least the detective was asleep. As long as the man stayed that way, the bodyguard didn't have to worry about-
"Snrr…doctor…dun' drink tha'…not juuse…"
…The universe hated him, he just knew it. The bodyguard sighed, opening his eyes and glancing over at the unconscious man, who was tossing and turning on the bench, mumbling in his sleep. His face was pinched in irritation as his hands tried to grab at nothing.
"N-No…the cat…took m'pipe…" The bodyguard, feeling a bit curious, approached Mr. Sholmes. Was he simply having nightmares or trying to wake up? Should he go get someone? Wait it out? "Th'mouse…took your biscuits, Iris…not me…" The detective muttered before going quiet and still. The bodyguard blinked and leaned closer…was he alright? Oh God, he hoped he didn't have to go get a doctor-
"AHH!"
The bodyguard jumped back just in time to avoid a punch as the man snapped awake and jumped up from the makeshift bed, his fists flying wildly. He nearly let out a swear, but managed to hold himself back. Mr. Sholmes hopped back and forth, his eyes darting around the room, "What ho!? A ruffian trying to sneak up on me, eh!? Well, you won't catch me off guard, oh no! Been a while since I've gotten into a scrap-!"
The bodyguard just stared at him, exasperated. Sholmes didn't seem to notice him just yet. He was probably still half-asleep, though he had enough energy to shadow box, apparently. The bodyguard briefly wondered how ethical it would be to knock the man out again…but he shook the thought from his head. That was going a bit too far, no matter how tempting it was.
Eventually, however, his patience ran out, and the bodyguard cleared his throat, loudly. That seemed to snap the boxing detective out of his daze, the man looking a bit more alert as he took in his surroundings. He spotted the bodyguard and after a few seconds, his eyes lit up with recognition, "Ah, why if it isn't the mysterious Mr. Phantom!" He said with a grin, still calling the bodyguard that strange nickname despite the fact that he was very much alive, "Your reflexes are quite sharp, my good man, had you been any slower I might have caught you with a mean right hook!" The detective bent over in laughter, greatly amused. The bodyguard couldn't help but snort in annoyance at the younger man's carefree—or rather careless—attitude. With the day he'd been having, getting a busted lip would just be the cherry on top, wouldn't it?
"Hahaha-ow!" The detective winced, his laughter cut short, "Oh dear, I think…I may have strained something," He said a bit breathlessly, and the bodyguard watched in concern as the man sank back down on the cushioned bench, "Ah…there we are," Sholmes said a bit breathlessly, "I suppose being cut open warrants a bit of restraint for a day or so," The bodyguard blinked in surprise; a day or so? He'd think that would demand strict bed rest for at least a week.
He got out his notepad and wrote a question for the man, "Do you need medical attention?"
"Ha, don't be silly, dear fellow," Sholmes chuckled lightly, "I went to great lengths to escape medical attention! There's no way I would put myself back into captivity, not when mysteries and investigations are just waiting to be solved by a Great Detective!" He boasted with a flick of his cap. The bodyguard just rose an eyebrow in response…not that anyone could see it, "That reminds me…" The detective remarked slyly, "At our first meeting, you claimed to have never heard of me, and so dear Iris gave you a copy of her first retelling of my exploits. Surely now you know of me, my good man!" He grinned eagerly, "Perhaps you've even become a fan? Go on, shout it if you desire, don't be shy!"
The bodyguard shrugged and made a "so-so" gesture, to which the man slumped defeatedly. He held back a snicker; truth be told he knew a great deal about Herlock Sholmes now, at least from Iris' stories. After reading the first, he had bought more editions of the Randst magazine and read more about the man's cases. To his surprise, he found he actually enjoyed them, even if some of the stories seemed a bit farfetched…but there was no way he was going to tell Sholmes that. He had a feeling if he did, the man would never shut up about it.
"So, I must ask, Mr. Phantom" Sholmes recovered quickly from his despair, pulling out a pipe from his pocket and fiddling around with the end of it in his mouth, "What brings you to this lovely courthouse today, hm? If it was to observe the trial, I can't imagine why you'd choose to be in this stuffy room instead of watching the show. Unless…" His eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers, "Aha, I see now! You died here and this is one of your haunts! I imagine you must see all manner of trials play out here and you wanted a break. Not to worry, my dear fellow, for I am happy to provide you with company!" The bodyguard just shook his head in exasperation, writing down another note.
"1. Not a ghost."
"2. Apparently, I'm here to babysit bumbling thieves, a young girl on trial, and an injured detective, instead of doing my actual job, for some reason."
Perhaps the bodyguard could have answered that with a bit more decorum, but to hell with it. He was too tired to put up with much more nonsense. Honestly, it was a wonder he was still standing. Hopefully, the detective would discern the exasperation the bodyguard was feeling right now and take the hint to just leave him be, maybe go back to sleep and give him some peace and quiet. Unfortunately, Herlock Sholmes seemed to be allergic to hints.
"Ah, your actual job," The man repeated, "Yes, you spend your days defending the Lord Chief Justice from harm, do you not? Quite the career choice indeed! If I'm being perfectly honest, ever since I've met you, one question has been needling at my mind, a burning curiosity that I have to sate," The detective gave him an intense stare and the bodyguard found himself growing wary. Was this man about to ask about his real identity? About the inner workings of his job? He wasn't sure, but it put him on edge; rarely anything good came from people seeking answers like that. Not that the bodyguard could really tell anyone about who he really was when he didn't even know. In any case, he kept his guard up, waiting for Sholmes to interrogate him. Several seconds of silence passed, the tension rising, until-
"Is your cloak and mask a uniform you're required to wear and do you perhaps have any extra that you could lend me?"
The bodyguard facepalmed, his ceramic mask making a little thunk noise from the force of it. Of course that was his question. He should have known better to expect Herlock Sholmes to be serious…though perhaps he was judging the man too harshly. He had only met him twice after all-
"What's the matter, dear fellow? It's a valid question," Sholmes said with a hearty laugh, "After all, it's never too early to think of a Halloween costume!"
…Nevermind. Scratch that. He was judging him perfectly.
"Uniform and no." He wrote down.
"Blast," Sholmes muttered as he read the note, "I suppose I can be a zombie again but Iris might find that a bore…ah well, no matter, I shall think of something!" He said with a carefree wave of the hand, "But how lucky you are! After all, you've had a set Halloween costume for the past…what? Ten years or so? You never have to worry about such things!"
The bodyguard narrowed his eyes, feeling wary again…ten years was an unusual number to focus on. How was this man aware of how long he had worked under Stronghart? He was certain he had never mentioned that in any of their conversations. He supposed it wasn't that important, but it still struck him as odd…maybe he was just being too paranoid. Instead of confirming or denying the man's words, however, the bodyguard asked him something right back.
"Has anyone ever told you that you ask far too many questions?"
"Ah, but that's the thing, Mr. Phantom!" Sholmes answered, his eyes glowing with delight, "There is no such thing as too many questions for a detective, dear fellow. Surely you know that!" He said with a playful flick of his cap.
Well…he wasn't a detective, so how would he know? The bodyguard nearly reached for his notepad again to tell the man as much, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. It opened to reveal one of the bailiffs that had brought Sholmes in this little room in the first place. He stepped inside, cleared his throat and addressed the bodyguard.
"You, err, umm…" The man paused, unsure of how to address him. He shook his head and continued, "Y-You, sir! Have been summoned! Back to the courtroom immediately!" He stammered in a nervous tone, "Please follow me there at once!" Without waiting for a response, the officer turned on his heel and began walking away as fast as possible, almost eager to get away. The bodyguard blinked, threw a questioning glance at Mr. Sholmes, then shrugged and followed the younger man out into the hall.
"Before you go, Mr. Phantom, one last thing," Sholmes said suddenly. The bodyguard turned back to look at him questioningly. The man had gotten up from his seat and now stood in the doorway of the room. He had an unreadable expression, his eyes obscured by his cap, "Perhaps it's not that I ask too many questions…perhaps you don't ask enough," The detective's words hung in the air for several seconds, before he did one of his silly poses and gave the bodyguard a smile once more, "Good day to you, Mr. Phantom!" Then he rushed down the hall in the other direction, laughing merrily.
The bodyguard stared at his retreating form for a long moment, before slowly backing away. He eventually turned and hurried after the bailiff, a bit put off from that whole conversation. He had to increase his speed to catch up with the officer. The man glanced over his shoulder, gave a strangled squeak, and continued to speed walk away, nearly looking like he wanted to break into a run. The bodyguard huffed in annoyance; this wasn't a race. There was no need to go so fast.
As he walked down the hall, the bodyguard found he couldn't get the detective's last statement out of his head. It annoyed him; he didn't ask enough questions? The bodyguard would beg to differ. Over the past decade he'd had many questions, he just…wasn't able to answer all of them. Or…many of them.
He supposed in more recent years his determination to find out who he was had eased up, though he hated to admit it. It was hard to keep up momentum when one didn't seem to make any progress. He probably shouldn't think about that right now, however. They had reached the large wooden doors that led to the courtroom. The bailiff opened them and ushered the bodyguard inside, directing him to the witness stand.
As the bodyguard walked into place, he glanced warily around the room. Everyone was staring at him, from the gallery, to the jury, the prosecution and defense, the judge. Even those already on the witness stand turned and looked his way. Curiously, Inspector Gregson and Mr. Graydon both looked very…apprehensive as he approached. Apparently, quite a lot had happened in the bodyguard's absence; what exactly it had to do with him, he didn't know.
"Welcome back, good sir," The judge greeted him from his seat, "Have you been informed by the bailiff about why you are back here?" The bodyguard shook his head; the man that had fetched him hadn't told him anything of the sort. The judge seemed a little surprised at his answer, looking at the officer questioningly. The man shifted uncomfortably and sheepishly mumbled some excuse the bodyguard didn't hear.
"Perhaps we should let my learned friend explain to this masked interloper why he's been called back where he clearly doesn't belong," Lord Van Zieks suggested, casually swirling around a glass of wine. He looked at the bodyguard with disdain; clearly he still had some problem with him that the bodyguard was clueless about.
"Very well," The judge nodded, "Counsel, if you please?"
"Oh! Yes, My Lord! R-Right…" Naruhodo stammered, "Well, the defense…suspects Inspector Tobias Gregson of striking a deal with Mr. Ashley Graydon, in which he passed on confidential details of the case to help the man give false testimony!" The young lawyer slammed his palms down on the desk loudly, "In exchange for this information, Mr. Graydon passed over the missing second music box disk to the inspector as they agreed!"
The bodyguard looked at the detective to his left in response to this news. Gregson was staring straight ahead, his mouth set in a hard line. A quick downward glance showed that his fist was clenching the newspaper wrapped around his fish and chips rather tightly. His knuckles seemed nearly white from the force of it.
He subtly looked at Mr. Graydon next. The younger man looked like he was barely keeping himself together, glaring daggers at Naruhodo. Though, if one were to look carefully, they could see traces of nervousness in his eyes.
With how strangely these two men had been acting earlier in the trial, the bodyguard was inclined to believe Naruhodo that something shady had happened between them. Still…what did the bodyguard have to do with any of this? The only reason he was here at all was to assist Gregson in keeping the Skulkins in line.
"Mr. Bodyguard," Naruhodo continued, as if reading his thoughts, "We think Inspector Gregson may have planted the disk on your person. He hasn't left the witness stand since the court returned from the recess, but I remember witnessing him shaking you a bit by your cloak before he sent you out of the room. I believe that was the moment he slipped the disk over."
At these words, the bodyguard slowly turned towards Gregson, glaring at him fiercely. So that's what the manhandling was all about. In a way, he understood the man's logic; he didn't want the disk to be found on him and confiscated into evidence, so what better way to get it out of the courtroom than planting it on someone under his command, albeit temporarily, and sending them away? It was quite clever…but that didn't mean the bodyguard was just going to let it slide. He didn't need to write any notes; his expression alone told Gregson exactly what he thought of his little scheme. The detective continued to state straight ahead, though the bodyguard noticed him shifting uncomfortably. Good, let him be nervous.
The judge cleared his throat, bringing the bodyguard's attention back to the matter at hand, "Thank you, Counsel," The old man directed at Naruhodo. To the bodyguard, he said, "And now, good sir, I must ask you to allow yourself to be searched, to see if we may find this second disk," The bodyguard gave a hesitant nod; he wasn't exactly comfortable at the thought, but he had nothing to hide, "Very well then. Bailiff, please conduct a thorough search of the Lord Chief Justice's bodyguard's personal effects-!"
"Hold it!" Gregson suddenly interrupted, looking much more panicked, "Please, My Lord!"
"Inspector?"
"Scotland Yard, erm…has to object to this search!" The detective insisted, clenching his fists tightly to the point of trembling, "Not only is it an insult to the Yard, but…also to the Chief Justice himself! You're allowing that whelp of a lawyer to drag his personal bodyguard into this-!"
SLAM
The inspector jolted mid-rant at the noise. Van Zieks had slammed his fist on the desk quite harshly, leveling Gregson with a cold stare, "Unfortunately for you, Inspector…your objections carry no weight here."
"Eh!?"
"In this courtroom," The prosecutor continued, "Only the prosecution and the defense have the authority to object."
"B-But Lord Van Zieks-!" Gregson choked out. Van Zieks ignored him.
"I have no idea what forces are in play that might influence your actions…but personally, I have no intention of obstructing the course of this trial," He said, "As for our cloaked gentleman here, if the disk is found on his person, I think you'll come to see that the one who dragged him into this is you. I'm certain Lord Stronghart will have many questions for you in regards to that," Gregson flinched, giving an audible gulp at the realization, "Now, perhaps we can move on?"
The bodyguard nodded at his words. The feeling was mutual as far as he was concerned. He'd like to get this all over with soon. The judge nodded to the officer he had addressed a moment ago.
"Bailiff, carry out the search, if you please!"
A quick patdown later and it was just as Naruhodo had theorized; a music box disk was tucked away in the bodyguard's cloak. Gasps of surprise and muttering could be heard in the gallery. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the young lawyer sighing in relief, Iris smiling triumphantly next to him. The bodyguard was impressed with the man's reasoning; he should have more faith in himself, honestly.
"Good Lord! That's-!" The judge cried out.
"Another music box disk," Van Zieks finished for him, glaring in the direction of the witness stand. Both Gregson and Graydon looked like they had swallowed a lemon. The Skulkin brothers, on the other end of the witness stand, shook their heads defeatedly.
"'E's got 'em now, ain't 'e, Ringo?"
"'E does, Nash, 'e does."
"Shut up, both of you!" Mr. Graydon hissed under his breath, looking more like a cornered animal by the minute.
Naruhodo didn't soften any of his blows, however, "This is the second music box disk left behind by Magnus McGilded," He said, pointing accusingly at Gregson, "Is it not…Inspector Gregson!?" The detective let out a frustrated groan at that. The rabble from the gallery grew louder at that, and the judge called for order, banging his gavel on the desk loudly. When the crowd grew quiet, his attention turned to the bodyguard.
"Mr…er…Mr. Bodyguard! What do you have to say about this?" The bodyguard just stared at him blankly for a few seconds. Luckily, the judge seemed to catch himself, "Oh, right, ahem…let me ask this then. Were you aware that this disk was in your cloak?" The bodyguard shook his head, growing more and more annoyed at the whole affair. He really wished he could just leave already. The judge looked towards the defense, "Counsel, would you please explain exactly what is going on here? If the supposed deal was between the witness and this detective, then why was this man in possession of it? Why not submit the disk as evidence?"
While Naruhodo explained his logic—that being of Gregson trying to get the disk out of the room since he was unable to leave—the bodyguard couldn't help but notice the inspector growing more closed off. He was still tense, but making an effort to keep his facial expressions as neutral as possible. The reason why soon became clear. When the subject matter of Gregson's current assignment came up, pertaining to government secrets and all, the man cooly replied that he was not at liberty to speak on it. And when pressed about making a deal with Graydon for the disk, he merely declared that he was acting in the best interests of the country, nothing more. It was clear his goal was now to stonewall, refusing to give the defense anything to work with.
The bodyguard personally found himself conflicted. He understood that these disks were important for Gregson to retrieve, what with them potentially holding government secrets that might be deciphered by anyone with knowledge of Morse code. Depending on their contents, it could be disastrous if the information within were to fall into the wrong hands…but to retrieve them in a way that could wrongfully convict someone of a crime, and potentially sentence a person, a child nonetheless, to death…that he could never agree with. Such underhanded dealings disgusted him.
So it was quite satisfying to see Naruhodo get the better of the man by suggesting the two disks be played at once to hear the complete message. As a result, the inspector immediately lost his composure and panicked. He practically begged for the disks not to be played, but still wouldn't admit to making the deal with Graydon. He tried to scare Naruhodo off, warning him that this would make him an enemy of the entire British government. The young lawyer wouldn't back down, prepared to do anything to help his client. The bodyguard had to give him credit; that took guts.
"God damn it-!" Gregson muttered when he realized no one was going to stop Naruhodo's suggestion, not even Van Zieks. Then his eyes flickered over to the bodyguard, "Don't just stand there, do something! Stop this now!" The bodyguard just stared at him coldly. Contrary to what some may believe, he was not some mindless dog to be sicced on others. Disobeying an order hadn't worked out for him the other day, but he still had his morals. Let the chips fall where they may. The inspector growled in frustration at his inaction, "Stronghart told you to follow my orders, didn't he? So you'd better-!"
"Gregsy!" Came Iris' scolding voice from the defense bench. The older man jumped, nearly losing his chips in the process. The little girl had her hands on her hips, an angry pout on her face. Gregson stared at her wide eyed, looking less like a seasoned officer of Scotland Yard and more like a child who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Y-Your Ladyship! I-I-"
"How could you be so mean, Gregsy?" Iris asked in a disappointed tone. The detective stammered dumbly, but the child continued, "Trying to get this nice masked gentleman to stop the bailiff…you could get him in trouble!" Her eyes glistened with emotion, "A-And…you've been so sneaky today with Runo, who's trying to do his job and find the truth! I…I thought you cared about truth too…"
"O-Of course I do, Your Ladyship!" The detective stammered out, forcing a smile on his face, "You can always trust Scotland Yard, that's a promise!" He said with a playful bounce from side to side, "A-And, don't you worry! Ol' Gloomy here doesn't have to do anythin' he doesn't want to, of course…but err, I really need the lad in black to not play that disk-" He grit out through his smile, but Iris just ignored his last statement.
"Oh Gregsy, I knew you'd come around!" She giggled sweetly, "You're just having a bad day, I see. Don't worry, we all get cranky sometimes!"
Gregson looked lost for words, his mustache twitching a bit as he tried to recover from what just happened. The bodyguard coughed into his cloak, disguising his laughter. That girl knew exactly what she was doing. All of London better be careful with her; she'd have them wrapped around her finger within minutes.
"Reined in by a little girl…" Van Zieks deadpanned as he swirled his glass of wine, "A toast to the proud image you project, Inspector."
"Hmm…perhaps now we can move on," The judge murmured, then with a bang of his gavel, he addressed the officer presiding over the evidence, "Bailiff, play both of the music disks at once!" Gregson snapped out of his stupor just as the disks were inserted into place. He grew deathly pale and cried out as the music notes began to flow into the courtroom.
"NOOOOOOOOO!"
There was no mistaking it now; it was Morse code. Those in the gallery muttered amongst themselves, clearly recognizing it as well. The bodyguard couldn't help but listen curiously. He was familiar with a little Morse code but before he could attempt to decipher anything, Gregson finally caved and cried out.
"Alright! Alright! I admit it! Whatever you want! But for the love of God…shut that bloomin' box up!"
And with that, the final nail in the coffin of this case had been firmly hammered in.