Chapter 3

Holmes sat in his favoured armchair and looked out of the window on to the grimy street, he had an air of contemplation about him; eyes nearly closed, with pipe smoke wreathing his noble edifice. He barely acknowledged Brighton's exuberant entrance into the smoky room.

"I say Holmes, what splendid day! One would not have expected such a sure herald of spring following on from the foul fog we encountered last eve." Brighton stopped talking, and coughed.

"Mind you Ned, you are no stranger to noxious fumes - with that odd tobacco you smoke."

"Not tobacco Hove, just a relaxing herbal plant from the Far East. I soothes my nerves, and helps me to see things with great clarity."

"So you say, Holmes, so you say. Wouldn't you rather take up the violin, like Sherlock?" Asked Brighton, hopefully.

"Indeed, I would not."

"Shame, ah well. Off to the houses of ill repute are we then, old chap?" said Hove, with a downcast expression.

"Not exactly, one of us is - but having given the matter more thought. I have decided to research our illustrious visiting professor."

"Illustrious? More of a cove I would have thought..." Brighton mused.

"As he may well be. One of my acquaintances Dr Oliver Thomas is well connected at the Royal Society. I'm sure he will have heard of Burgabiter."

"Excellent, well I don't know much about science but I expect I will cope." Replied Hove.

"You will not need to cope Brighton." Holmes smiled.

"Oh, good - he has a way with the lay man does he? Explaining the mysteries of science."

"Actually he does, but he will not be expounding science to you Hove."

"Why not, surely..." Brighton's face fell for the second time.

"You will be talking to the brothel keepers, gaining essential information Brighton. Does that not stir you?"

"No, Holmes it depresses me. I mean, that way lies temptation, and the path away from redemption."

"You are made of sterner stuff than that Hove, by George. I do not doubt you in that respect."

Brighton forced a wan smile at the complement. "I have no idea where to start though Holmes, I have no experience of these 'houses'."

"So it is fortuitous that I have prepared a list, is it not?" Holmes grinned.

"Oh absolutely..." Brighton answered, almost inaudibly.

Brighton walked on in a desolate mood, he had a list of notorious pubs and boarding houses to visit, and try as he might he did not have the fortitude to simply throw it away. Ned had always been a close friend, and when times became difficult a good man to stand beside on the battlefield. He could not, would not, betray his mentors - whatever the cost.

However, he did wonder about his friend sometimes, for instance, when Ned had said he did not doubt his moral fibre - was he suggesting there was something he did doubt? Also how did Holmes know so much about the local brothels. Surely he had never frequented them? So many questions, why did they never occur to him at the time? He was uncertain he would ask them if he did. His thoughts were rudely interrupted.

"Sir, I know what you are likely to be in these parts for. But I beg you to reconsider your ways. Please help rather than abuse these lost girl's."

Brighton eyed the formidable man who had accosted him with uncertainty, just what was he talking about? He studied the scrap of paper that had been thrust in his hand.

'The Hebrew Ladies Protection League - Rescuing and protecting the unwary. Please support us in our efforts and make a donation to the Poor Jews Temporary Shelter.'

"Sir, you misunderstand..." Hove started.

"I misunderstand nothing sir! And you will pay with your immortal soul." The man articulated with an air of disgust. He snatched back his scrap of paper and stalked off, doubtless to accost the next man he met. Brighton stood and stared at the back of the disappearing gentleman. Never had he felt so low, so humiliated. Pure loyalty to Holmes stopped him from retracing his steps and leaving the squalor of the Ratcliffe Highway far behind him.