Named Sherlock

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Named Sherlock Page 50

by Bagatur Zhamkochyan


  The pressure dropped immediately, I easily stopped. Another second, and my mind, like the body, were again under control. I raised my hand, squeezed a few times and opened his hand. Yes, no doubt, no trace of the intervention, I was again self-manage themselves.

  - Poor you, not sdyuzhil. And time is almost there ...

  It is interesting that the old woman, out of a pocket of space on your porch goes? Located a few meters, I was only a second looked away. No steps, no creaking doors or even blow the wind. She just appeared in his usual place, a stinking smoking pipe in his mouth.

  - Why is there no time? And why am I weak?

  - Do not weak? My call went, his eyes closed, and behind it and did go running. There is little hope ...

  - Listen, - I paused for a moment, - ma'am. You can explain everything okay? Why are you dragging me here, can you tell? And why no?

  Releasing my face puff of smoke, the old woman laughed, showing black rotten stumps of teeth on the spot, then rolled his eyes and began to speak in a singsong voice:

  - I want to live, afraid of death, because waiting for the wages of sin in death. Only the soul is dead for a long time, the soul is dead and the fiery cross, crucified. Great sacrifice to give eternal life, but will awaken a terrible hunger, insatiable. And this hunger will devour all life and then destroys itself. Dana protection you only blind and can not see. Open your eyes, and behold!

  The old woman suddenly raised her head, looked me in the eye, and beckoned with his finger. I went on a step, and leaned closer. Absolutely normal, calm voice, she said:

  - more I can not give you, then myself. Perhaps my help will be counted on Judgment Day, the sins of my cover. And remember, there is not much time, do not wait, then nothing will. Go!

  It has already opened his mouth to ask a lot of questions still, I suddenly felt a little dizzy, his eyes darkened. And when the darkness dissipated, I found myself sitting in a carriage.

  That's so old! This is what she dragged me here just to increase my resistance to mind control, and to give at least some chance of future confrontation? It turns out that way. But for some reason she can not tell the whole story, to explain properly to what these stupid puzzles? What kind of protection that I do not see? Or maybe ... I unbuttoned the collar, pulled out from under shirt lace with an amulet. Smooth chrysoberyl that simulates the pupil dimly shone. The dagger is usually used for protection, and there is the eye. Is not this what was meant?

  The carriage stopped. Paid the coachman, I went up to the porch. The door swung open before I could knock.

  - Mr. Brown, you already expect - it seemed to me, or the voice of Jerome really was a little judgmental? Not that I was late ...

  Meet me on the second floor, down the teacher Donnie. Himself one followed him.

  - And do not forget, Donald, the lesson will take place tomorrow in my lab. Please do not be late, I do not like it. I hope - he stopped and looked sternly at instantly cringed disciple - you yourself examine those paragraphs in the textbook that we will not have time to cover today because of the decline in employment time.

  - Yes, sir. I am prepared properly.

  - Lord, it was nice to see, before the meeting - Mr. Innganamorte nodded to me and came up to Mr. Jobson.

  - Good-bye, sir, - I watched the lanky figure to the front door.

  - Yes, you have a stern teacher, do not say anything. But - the best - said the old lawyer. - Now, boys, you have ten minutes for a snack, and let us go. Late for a court hearing - a bad taste. Yes, and can be fined for contempt.

  the table had already been laid in the dining room. Full dinner did not work, but the sandwiches with meat and cocoa were seen very favorably stomach. Ten minutes is not required. Two young growing organism, we devoured with Donny all in a matter of moments, and returned to the living room.

  - Ready? Well, gentlemen, good luck!

  On the way to the court, Mr. Jobson, told us that the meeting of the Master's trial will be held behind closed doors, and in addition to us, there will only be present Miss Shaw, as a representative of the shelter.

  - Sir, excuse me for asking, but could you explain a little more, that, in fact, will be in court? - Donnie interest could easily understand, he still wanted to someday return to her mother.

  - In fact, everything is simple, especially with Sherlock, - the lawyer smiled. - In custody of him and so I have the right as executor of Jeremy. I just need to provide evidence that the judge, in order that all has been officially confirmed. With you, Donald, the procedure is almost the same. Miss Shaw will bring documents to prove that your mother gave up all rights to you, completely transferring them shelter "New Beginning". Rather, the most Miss Shaw as his representative.

  - Wait a minute, my ... - Donnie's voice for a moment lost, he cleared his throat and continued. - My mother abandoned me?

  - No, of course not. It is still your mother, just those are the rules. Shelter - for orphans, and if they want to give the child's parents, they have to write a letter of refusal.

  - But, by law, it is no longer my mother?

  - Donnie, calm down. Of course, it is in any case still your mother. Just transfer the right of custody to a third party, it can not be your representative and deprived of the right to inheritance. But no one will deprive you of the right to see if you both want it.

  - Thank you sir. I understood.

  All the way Donny sat scowling morosely. Realizing that the other is now best left alone, I too lost in thought. But his thoughts were sad.

  If you believe the words of the old woman, the time was not enough. But how annoying is the lack of specificity! How much does it - a little? Day, week? Or maybe it all comes to watch, how to understand? Eh ... I'm definitely moving in the right direction, but terribly slow. How to speed up the process - it is not clear. I stared out the window irritably.

  The building of the Royal Court was so majestic and beautiful that resembled a castle from a fairy tale about Cinderella. It was very strange that we now go inside and will discuss some minor and ordinary matter of trusteeship. In this palace stuck to solve only the highest matters of state importance.

  Donnie also stood nearby, his head thrown back and his mouth open in amazement.

  - Young people who have absolutely no time! - hail Mr. Jobson brought to life, and we hurried after him.

  Inside the oppressive feeling of grandeur blurred view seemed endless string of narrow and dark corridors, which we had to overcome before you get to the site. Yes, and the courtroom, in my opinion, pumped up. It was rather dark, rather badly lit room, with narrow stained-glass windows, paneled in dark oak.

  The centerpiece of the official table was empty, the other two at the sides were occupied by some pretty young, restless subjects. A bit on the side, at a separate table, sat a stout lady of middle age. Miss Emily, who sat on one of the vacant seats, with a smile, turned towards us.

  - Good afternoon, sir, the boys - whisper woman greeted us. - I thought I was late. The meeting will begin at any moment.

  - Good to see you, Miss Shaw. I assure you, we arrived just in time to marvel.

  From a strictly look Miss Emily I was only saved by the appearance of the hall in a low tolstyachka judicial robe and wig, which came out of the invisible door in the corner of the room.

  - The silence in the room! I ask all to stand up! - his voice is one of those sitting at the table of young people, a court clerk, Mr. Jobson said. We obediently jumped.

  In fact, the most memorable in the whole process was the emergence of a judge who was just incredibly funny in his black, tight tight stomach robes and huge curly wig. Seeing him, I with great difficulty restrained himself from grinning.

  All the rest passed quickly bored and businesslike. The judge examined the documents, which have provided Miss Emily and Mr. Jobson, gave their aides. And just a few minutes decided the transfer of the right to custody of minors Donald Watson and Sherlock Brown, Mr. Jobson Adam, Esq. Another couple of minutes it took the fact that
the secretary was and gave us a written ruling.

  And ten minutes later we said goodbye to Miss Emily, went back.

  - That's it! Now we can celebrate! - Mr Jobson luchilsya enthusiasm. We Donnie also had to portray the joyful smiles. Donnie, in fact, clearly has not recovered, but I did, and the head was filled with totally different. But, so as not to spoil the mood of Mr. Jobson, we dutifully smiled.

  The house we had a surprise, or rather, two. First - it is sitting in the living room, Mrs. Jobson, all in silks, diamonds, and with inconceivable Babylon on the head, and the second - ordered specifically for a trip to the opera, frachnyh suits for us to Donnie. Not adolescence cut short jacket and breeches, but real, thin velvet coats, long pants and patterned pique vests. Complemented by the beauty of this snow-white shirt and bow tie.

  - Boys, I'm so glad! - Mrs. Jobson rushed forward, beginning to turn to hug us with Donnie. - Today we have a real celebration!

  - Martha, do not confuse young people, - laughed the lawyer. - Look at their frightened faces. I think they are already preparing to flee.

  - What do you mean, sir. We are also very pleased - I decided to answer for both of us.

  - Well, then go change clothes. And hurry, late for the opera - it's a lot worse than being late to court. There is suffering a purse, and here - a reputation!

  Driven by these parting words, we Donnie went from room to room.

  I put on fifteen minutes, constantly swearing and cursing the uncomfortable, too narrow sleeves and small buttons of his waistcoat. Finally, pulling the hapless suit, trailers butterfly, I went downstairs.

  - Sherlock, you're really going suit, you look so grown ... Oh, if you could see your parents! - Mrs. Jobson clasped her hands.

  - Everybody ready? waiting for the crew.

  Royal Opera House was located almost in the center of the city, just two blocks from Westminster. , Is a beautiful building in the style of English Baroque, decorated with columns, pilasters and arched windows. Pediment theater adorned with stucco and painted. The huge square in front of him, all bathed in the light of dozens of gas lamps, has been hammered by arriving and leaving the crew, many of whom struck by its luxury.

  Coming out of the cab, we hurried after Mr. Jobson in the theater lobby. And I immediately zapestrilo in the eyes of the whirlwind smartly dressed men and women.

  I must say that only now I realized what it meant to be one of the best lawyers in the city - Mr. Jobson was quite well known, he always someone greeting and bowed, and acted, it must be said, very confident in this crowd of aristocrats.

  But what I could not understand, so that's why we come here so early, almost an hour. But Mrs. Jobson on my question a whisper explained that these walks through the lobby with a glass of champagne and quiet conversations, no less important than the idea itself.

  Well, the important so important. I do not understand this, yes, I confess, and no particular desire. Therefore, leaning against the wall away from the crowd, I decided to just watch what is happening.

  - Donnie - I called a friend standing nearby. He did not answer. - Donnie, what are you silent? Deaf?

  - A? - Donnie looked at me with a look as if seen for the first time. - Sherlock, do you see it? Look, I've never seen such a beauty!

  Such beauty? Whom is he?

  Tracked gaze Donald, I settled on a group of people, about ten meters away from us. A middle-aged lady in a green dress, her companion, whom she held by the hand - an elderly, gray-haired man with a mustache, dashing type tall man with his chest, and black-haired girl, whose face I could not see.

  Quizzically looking at each other, I have shown through the eyes in their direction. He nodded. Carefully she looked at his face, I gasped silently. Donnie's gaze was exactly as he had once looked at Miss Emily - desperately and hopelessly in love. That's just this is not enough!

  Survived to our ringing woman's laughter seemed familiar. Turning sharply, I managed to catch a glimpse of the laughing, cover a huge fan of the girl. Shyly turning away from the source, she turned for a moment to our profile.

  I was taken aback. Oh, Donny was right! Such a beauty hard to forget. Chiseled profile, small neat nose, huge almond-shaped eyes, shiny, tight black curls. No, I could not see it all in a split second, I remembered her face and so. Anyone who has ever seen Marissa Warren - do not forget it never!

  Chapter 16.

  Our seats were in the front row of the amphitheater. While we Donnie, open-mouthed, looked at admiringly expensive decoration of the auditorium - stucco, gilding, murals and a three-meter shining crystal chandelier, Mr. Jobson whisper told me that he could have to redeem a box for us, but did not consider it necessary.

  - If you want to enjoy the action on the stage, rather than trying to impress others, the tickets need to take it to the amphitheater! In an extreme case, in the first floor, but there is, nevertheless, far away.

  I nodded in agreement, Mrs. Jobson did not take her eyes from the scene waiting, holding his fingers in a sheet with a libretto, Donny lost sight groped around. Finally, his face seemed lit from within, finally plunging me into despair. In one of the boxes to the right of us, he saw Marissa. Armed with binoculars, she treated viewers. Noticing that her gaze is directed roughly in our direction, I smiled and raised his hand in greeting. A few seconds later she abruptly lowered her binoculars, and disappeared into the depths of the box. Yeah, I noticed!

  Donny, watching this picture, turned to me.

  - She knows you ... And you're it. Who is it, Sherlock?

  - Donnie, let's talk at home - I did not want to attract the attention of Mr. Jobson our whispers.

  - Good. But then you tell me everything, you promise?

  The room began to fade slowly light. The performance began, and luckily, temporarily saved me from unwanted explanations.

  Hearing the sounds of music, Donnie, it seemed for a while forget about everything and stared at the scene. I also tried at least for a couple of hours to disconnect from their worries, especially since the spectacle promised to be really amazing. I knew about the plot of "The Barber Sivilskogo" heard the overture of Figaro and aria, but the whole opera has ever seen.

  Two and a half hours flew by. After a few minutes, I realized why people, once having seen this magic, this story, stay true to the opera for the whole life.

  Mrs. Jobson, though, and laughed at the antics of hitromudroy barber, but still, sentimentality, and then wiped involuntary tears. Mr. Jobson grunted thoughtfully, Donny simply stunned silence.

  The show ended, leaving a strange feeling some enthusiasm and enlightenment seemed even around the world for some time, I began to look like something different.

  - Do you feel? Music remained inside. - Mrs. Jobson smiled contentedly. - What a nice day!

  I nodded. Indeed, the time is not spent in vain, and this moment will be remembered for a long time.

  We went out among the last. The area in front of the theater was almost empty, there were only two private crew and no wage. From a variety of vendors elegant bouquets, there was only one skinny girl florist, a miserable, freezing beams hothouse violets. Leaving us to wait for him at the entrance, Mr. Jobson went to catch a cab to the adjacent street.

  Massive doors of the theater opened again by releasing another small group of stragglers spectators, among whom I have learned with displeasure, and her company itself Marissa. Wearing a long fur cloak, she was, of course, a miracle as well. Almost facing the entrance, we made eye contact. The girl stopped smiling for a moment, almost imperceptibly shook her head.

  It was possible and not to worry, I do not climb in other people's affairs. With a straight face, I gave way to the company, but then something unexpected happened.

  Donnie, who for a few seconds disappeared from sight, suddenly appeared with a basket of violets of accidents, then purchased by him, in the freezing florists. Red as a lobster, he silently handed them to Marissa. I stared.

  - Young man, you do not mistake? You worth to present thes
e flowers Madame Giovanelli, and not me - she smiled, but a little confused.

  - N-n-no. This in-the-you - seemed to blush any longer, but Donnie did it. And his famous stutter again manifested itself.

  - Eleanor, darling, take the flowers, have pity on the boy. Apparently, your beauty struck him more than singing the tonic, - laughed the second woman in the company, plump, blonde low. - Robert, son, and you stop to inflate as a turkey.

  The atmosphere is a little bit exhausted. Marissa, and Eleanor, as it is now called, took a basket and, again smiling Donnie, after his companions sat in the ornate carriage with red shield with the coat of arms on the door.

  - Young people, you're going home? - quietly approached Mr. Jobson startled me.

  - Arthur, do you imagine? - she threw her arms around his wife. - Donald just gave flowers to the bride of Baron Mowbray.

  - Wow! Our urchin everywhere ripe. And where is it you managed to meet him, we do not know personally?

  - They also went to the premiere, we have faced in the doorway. At first I did not know who it was, but then found out the coat of arms. Old Baron with his wife and son, and with them the young lady, obviously the very bride, which recently wrote in the "Tribune", in the section of gossip.

  - And you gave her flowers? - Mr Jobson laughed. - Donald, my friend, you are lucky that time is different, and it would not avoid the challenge to a duel. Although, given the difference in origin, you most likely just be beaten with sticks in the stables.

  - And where did you get the idea that she is his bride? - I really was wondering how Marissa, for such a short time climbed to the bride to the Baron. Here money is clearly not enough, there's communication needs, love.

  - Yes, with nothing, - said the lawyer. - Simple rules of decency require that the ladies go out only with the man, who is with her in certain respects. Either it kinship or conjugal. If a woman is not his wife, then it is considered to be the bride of the man accompanying her, even if it is not so. For the highest aristocracy, these rules are binding.

  - That is, in fact, it may not be his official fiancée?

 

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