The Case of The Irregular Irregular

Chapter 1: Injured

"WATSON!"

Holmes' strident voice echoed through 221B Baker Street, with more than its usual resonance, as he pounded up the stairs to our sitting room, and burst in through the door.

I was already rising to my feet in astonishment, and I stared at him as he entered. He appeared distraught, his face white and drawn, and he was clutching in his arms what I at first took to be a bundle of dirty rags. To my horror, the bundle of rags resolved itself into a small and grubby child, lying limp and insensible as my friend rapidly carried him through to his bedroom, with an frantic injunction to me to follow.

"He needs your help urgently, Watson, he is grievously injured." I needed no second entreaty, and I grabbed my medical bag as I followed them.

Holmes lay his small burden down upon his bed, and I hissed through my teeth at the sight of the child's face, horribly wounded, recognisable only by the unruly black top-knot crowning his head.

"Oh, Holmes. This is Billy, isn't it?" Holmes nodded straitly as I began to gently examine my patient.

Gently, Watson. More in Chapter Two

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