Saint Julian the Hospitaller: Gen
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holmes_minorTitle: Saint Julian the Hospitaller
Rating: Gen
Length: 200
Notes: Inspired by the legend/life of Saint Julian the Hospitaller
Summary: Holmes & Watson catch a murderer with an appropriate icon.
I had caught sight of the icon on the far side of the room when Holmes did and for once in our long association, I believe that I drew the same conclusion he did, and at the same time.
My revolver was trained on the hunched form, and it didn’t waiver as I moved farther into the room.
“Saint Julian the Hospitaller will only help you if you are a repentant murder, Mister Raymond,” said Holmes.
At that, the creature broke down into sobs.
“I am! Oh, I am! Oh, thank God you’ve found me at last!”
“You thought it was your wife in that bed with another man.”
The creature hid his face in his hands. “But it was me own mum! And dad! Oh, ho, ho!”
“That was quite a rage, though. You chopped their heads clean off.”
Just then, Lestrade arrived.
“Thank you, Mister Holmes, Doctor Watson. I think we’ll take it from here.”
I lowered my weapon.
“Who knows? You might have an extraordinary future ahead of you, Mister Raymond. He,” I gestured to the icon, “certainly did.”
“More likely he’ll swing,” said Lestrade, and Holmes and I took the words for the dismissal they were.
Rating: Gen
Length: 200
Notes: Inspired by the legend/life of Saint Julian the Hospitaller
Summary: Holmes & Watson catch a murderer with an appropriate icon.
I had caught sight of the icon on the far side of the room when Holmes did and for once in our long association, I believe that I drew the same conclusion he did, and at the same time.
My revolver was trained on the hunched form, and it didn’t waiver as I moved farther into the room.
“Saint Julian the Hospitaller will only help you if you are a repentant murder, Mister Raymond,” said Holmes.
At that, the creature broke down into sobs.
“I am! Oh, I am! Oh, thank God you’ve found me at last!”
“You thought it was your wife in that bed with another man.”
The creature hid his face in his hands. “But it was me own mum! And dad! Oh, ho, ho!”
“That was quite a rage, though. You chopped their heads clean off.”
Just then, Lestrade arrived.
“Thank you, Mister Holmes, Doctor Watson. I think we’ll take it from here.”
I lowered my weapon.
“Who knows? You might have an extraordinary future ahead of you, Mister Raymond. He,” I gestured to the icon, “certainly did.”
“More likely he’ll swing,” said Lestrade, and Holmes and I took the words for the dismissal they were.
