Poetry & Fic: Scheele's Green: Gen
Mar. 19th, 2022 12:53 pmTitle: Scheele's Green
Length: 500
Rating: Gen
Notes: colour poem + fic
Summary: Holmes has a young client who claims she's being poisoned.
Scheele's Green: a colour poem
a meadow pattern on a tiny wall
an Easter dress with ribbons matching all
a candied bowl of fruits, pretty and small
a hum of tune as dolls canter downstairs
a rustle of starched cloth swishing with airs
a crinkle of paper, crackles and tears
a cup of tea, tilted, in pantomime
a satin strip sucked when vicar’s well past time
a sharp burst of taste-buds at sweet-sour lime
a velvety wallpaper, rubbed to fray
a smooth-flowing muslin, flouncing at play
a sugar stone, swiftly tongue-worn away
such childish means for a murder most green!
---
“I would like to hire you, Mister Holmes.”
I gave my friend credit. He did not even blink as the child pronounced these words.
She was perched on the chair usually assigned to clients, looking as prim and proper as a Sunday school advertisement, if Sunday schools advertised.
“Why?” Holmes asked.
“Because I believe my uncle is trying to poison me.”
“Why?” he repeated, his fingers still steepled at his lips.
“Because I stand to inherit a large fortune from my deceased mother when I turn sixteen. If I do not reach the age of sixteen, the money will go to him.”
Holmes nodded.
“What symptoms are you experiencing?” I asked.
She described gastric aliments as well as tingling in her hands and feet and cramping.
“How is he poisoning you?” asked Holmes.
“With green.”
“Green?” Holmes echoed.
“Green is my favourite colour. That is, it was my favourite colour. My dolls’ house is papered in green. My Easter dress was green. Uncle often slips me candied lime sweets. The green is, I think, making me sick.”
Holmes and I shared a knowing glance.
“Have you any samples?” asked Holmes.
“Maisie has them.” The girl made a gesture at the maid who was standing at attention behind her.
Maisie sprang to life and opened a shopping bag.
“I can do some analysis here,” said Holmes, nodding to his chemical bench.
“I am afraid I haven’t much time. My uncle and aunt will expect me back soon.”
“Surely between the four of us, we can invent an excuse for your delay.”
---
A month later, Holmes and I were on the platform, waving good-bye to Miss Artemisia Clarke and her aunt, her other aunt, the one that had been summoned from her post in Ceylon, as their train departed for Dover and the crossing.
“An extraordinary child!” I said for the hundredth time. “You know, Holmes, if I didn’t know better—”
“She is not my offspring, Watson, at least not by blood.”
“But the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” I countered. “It was nice, having a child about the place. She was almost an apprentice.”
“Yes, but it will also be nice to have our rooms to ourselves.”
“Mrs. Hudson won’t think so. We’ve been on our best behaviour. I, uh, took the liberty of buying our charge a new frock.”
“As did I.”
“Blue.”
“Mauve.”
“Anything…”
“…but green.”
Length: 500
Rating: Gen
Notes: colour poem + fic
Summary: Holmes has a young client who claims she's being poisoned.
Scheele's Green: a colour poem
a meadow pattern on a tiny wall
an Easter dress with ribbons matching all
a candied bowl of fruits, pretty and small
a hum of tune as dolls canter downstairs
a rustle of starched cloth swishing with airs
a crinkle of paper, crackles and tears
a cup of tea, tilted, in pantomime
a satin strip sucked when vicar’s well past time
a sharp burst of taste-buds at sweet-sour lime
a velvety wallpaper, rubbed to fray
a smooth-flowing muslin, flouncing at play
a sugar stone, swiftly tongue-worn away
such childish means for a murder most green!
---
“I would like to hire you, Mister Holmes.”
I gave my friend credit. He did not even blink as the child pronounced these words.
She was perched on the chair usually assigned to clients, looking as prim and proper as a Sunday school advertisement, if Sunday schools advertised.
“Why?” Holmes asked.
“Because I believe my uncle is trying to poison me.”
“Why?” he repeated, his fingers still steepled at his lips.
“Because I stand to inherit a large fortune from my deceased mother when I turn sixteen. If I do not reach the age of sixteen, the money will go to him.”
Holmes nodded.
“What symptoms are you experiencing?” I asked.
She described gastric aliments as well as tingling in her hands and feet and cramping.
“How is he poisoning you?” asked Holmes.
“With green.”
“Green?” Holmes echoed.
“Green is my favourite colour. That is, it was my favourite colour. My dolls’ house is papered in green. My Easter dress was green. Uncle often slips me candied lime sweets. The green is, I think, making me sick.”
Holmes and I shared a knowing glance.
“Have you any samples?” asked Holmes.
“Maisie has them.” The girl made a gesture at the maid who was standing at attention behind her.
Maisie sprang to life and opened a shopping bag.
“I can do some analysis here,” said Holmes, nodding to his chemical bench.
“I am afraid I haven’t much time. My uncle and aunt will expect me back soon.”
“Surely between the four of us, we can invent an excuse for your delay.”
---
A month later, Holmes and I were on the platform, waving good-bye to Miss Artemisia Clarke and her aunt, her other aunt, the one that had been summoned from her post in Ceylon, as their train departed for Dover and the crossing.
“An extraordinary child!” I said for the hundredth time. “You know, Holmes, if I didn’t know better—”
“She is not my offspring, Watson, at least not by blood.”
“But the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” I countered. “It was nice, having a child about the place. She was almost an apprentice.”
“Yes, but it will also be nice to have our rooms to ourselves.”
“Mrs. Hudson won’t think so. We’ve been on our best behaviour. I, uh, took the liberty of buying our charge a new frock.”
“As did I.”
“Blue.”
“Mauve.”
“Anything…”
“…but green.”
no subject
Date: 2022-03-19 05:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-03-19 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-03-19 08:35 pm (UTC)I took on that very deadly green myself in A Study in Scheele's.
no subject
Date: 2022-03-19 09:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-03-20 03:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-03-20 01:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-03-20 02:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-03-20 02:45 pm (UTC)