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In Memory of Elizabeth
A Great Mouse Detective Fanfic
By E. Grimes

(c) 2000, 2007 by E. Grimes.  Please do not use my story or characters without my express written permission. You may do artwork from this story if you credit my copyright. Thank you for your courtesy.

______________________________________

In Part I: Dr. Dawson has unwittingly conjured up the memory of Basil's lost love, Elizabeth Starling. Seeing how upset the detective is at this, Dawson later questions the situation to their housekeeper, Mrs. Judson, who tells him the story of Basil and Elizabeth's relationship. Having first met the detective, Elizabeth is uncertain of his intentions---especially after discovering a photo of Professor Ratigan, Basil's long-standing enemy...

Part II

     "Certainly you can trust me, Miss Starling," Basil assured his lady guest. "Please sit back down and tell me what's wrong..."

     But Elizabeth was reluctant to tell him everything at first. "Not right now, sir, please," she begged. "But thank you for your kindness. I guess I will take that flat after all, if it's available..."

     Mrs. Judson nodded. "I'll go see Mrs. Flaherty about it post-haste," she declared. "You two just sit and talk." She left quickly, smiling to herself.

     Elizabeth sat uncomfortably under Basil's friendly but questioning gaze. To change the subject, she gestured towards the mantel. "You have a most singular collection up there," she said, smiling lightly.

     "Oh---well, those are some little trophies from some past cases of mine," Basil answered. "Though some are reminders of my present cases.

     "Take that blighter, for instance," he continued with a smirk, as he went up and took down the photo of Ratigan. "I've been after him for years, and somehow he's always eluded me. Deucedly clever scoundrel. Of all the criminals I've gone after, I've never loathed any one of them more."

     Elizabeth nodded, somewhat encouraged. "He must be something quite awful," she said slowly.

     By now, Basil's mind was focused on his pet peeve, his private war with Ratigan and his constantly failing efforts to capture the evil genius. He launched into such a passionate tirade against his old enemy that Elizabeth was astounded.

      "How you must hate him!" she exclaimed.

     "Ah, what's not to hate, my dear?" Basil replied, tapping the picture angrily. "He's the cruelest and vilest of them all...I despise him and anything, anyone connected with him!!!"

     Hearing that, Elizabeth---who by then had been ready to tell him everything--- remained silent. Basil saw the sad look on her face, but misunderstood its meaning.

     "Oh, forgive me, Miss Starling," he sighed, as he sat back down. "Here I am ranting and raving about that nefarious cad, when you have troubles of your own!"

     The young lady collected herself quickly and smiled gently. "It's all right, Mr. Basil...I can't blame you for the way you feel."

     "I'm surprised you didn't know him before," Basil declared, looking at her curiously. "I thought all of London, if not all of England, knew who Ratigan was. But then, you originally hail from Yorkshire, Miss Starling, do you not?"

     "Why, yes," Elizabeth answered with surprise. "I suppose you can tell from my accent, Mr. Basil. But I've lived in London a few years..."

     "And now," Basil asked with care, "forgive me, Miss Starling, but isn't there anything else you'd like to tell me...perhaps, why that fellow's picture bothers you so?"

     Elizabeth stared at the floor for several moments while Basil, with a patience extraordinary for himself, lit his pipe as he waited for her to answer.

     "That...that person..." she finally replied in a low voice. "He just reminded of someone I knew...someone I'd like to forget. An old employer of mine, who was so unkind to me that I had to get away from him. I've come here to this district, hoping to find a better living somehow."

     As she spoke, Basil studied her as discreetly as possible, nodding his head in understanding. But he was certain Elizabeth wasn't telling him the whole truth.

     So she was on the run---that's quite obvious. Can she have stolen something, or witnessed a crime, perhaps? There's so much that she's leaving out, though there seems to be an element of truth to the things Miss Starling is saying...

     Sooner or later, the whole story's got to come out. I shan't press her, though; it'll only make her more nervous. I must work hard to win her confidence more and more---until she feels she can tell me everything.

     "That's most unfortunate, Miss Starling," he told her compassionately. "And I hope things work out well for you here. Believe me, you'll enjoy Baker Street. There are fine places to visit, not to mention that you live up the street from the great detective, Mr. Sherlock Holmes himself---at whose feet I was most honoured to have learned my trade.

     "And if you should need anything," he added, smiling warmly, "don't hesitate to ask for me."

     "Thank you," Elizabeth said softly, but suddenly she leaned close to Basil with a curious look on her face. Needless to say, the detective was startled.

     "What is it, Miss Starling?" he asked anxiously.

     "Forgive me for noticing," she replied, "but there seems to be a bit of dirt on you. Here---" she motioned to her right cheek.

     Basil, somewhat embarrassed, tried to wipe it off, but kept missing the spot somehow; so the young lady took out a scented handkerchief, light lavender in colour, and proceeded to dab at Basil's face. The softness of her hand and the delicate scent of violets seemed just as startling to Basil, and seeing his expression, Elizabeth tactfully allowed him to finish the job.

     "So sorry, Miss Starling," he explained. "I got quite wet and muddy on my way home, and I guess I hadn't cleaned it all off."

     "Quite all right..." Elizabeth answered, smiling bashfully.

     Just then, Mrs. Judson returned. "Mrs. Flaherty has your room all ready," she announced happily. "You can move into it now."

     Elizabeth went to the parlor and brought back a large leather bag.

     She must surely have left in a hurry, pondered Basil. It's not like a woman to travel light. Or is that all she's got in the world? But he chose not to comment.

     "Shall I see you again, Miss Starling?" he suggested. "If you'd like, I could take you on a little tour of our lovely district..."

     Elizabeth seemed at once surprised and delighted. "Why...yes, Mr. Basil. That would be nice."

     "Tomorrow afternoon, perhaps?"

     "That will be fine. Goodnight, Mr. Basil...and thank you again."

     Mrs. Judson saw Elizabeth out; then after the young lady had gone, the housekeeper turned to Basil with a knowing smile.

     "Oh, stop that," the detective snapped. "I know what you're thinking..."

     Mrs. Judson cleared the tea dishes and went to her kitchen, humming merrily, as Basil sat back down. It was then, he noticed, that Elizabeth had left behind her handkerchief. He picked it up and examined it. It was fine Chinese silk, and bore her initials on it. Making sure Mrs. Judson wasn't watching, Basil stuffed it in his pocket and retired to his room.

     But, tired though he was, Basil was unable to sleep for a while. He couldn't stop wondering about Elizabeth's reaction to Ratigan's picture, and her frightened, even mistrustful behaviour at first. He hoped he wouldn't have to wait too long before Elizabeth fully confided in him at last. Meanwhile, there was no sense in agonizing over it...

     He had laid the woman's handkerchief on his bedside table, but now he lifted it to his face, remembering how Elizabeth had wiped the dirt off of his cheek. He sniffed at the cloth's fragrance---funny, he hadn't paid attention before, but he had smelled the same violet perfume on Elizabeth when she'd leaned close to him.

     Basil hadn't considered himself a romantic by any means, so he was astounded at the emotions that surged through him. He had investigated cases for (and about) various females in the past; while he had always treated them quite graciously, it had been all business. But Elizabeth's face and voice, her fragrance and her gentle touch were awakening tender sentiments and sweet longings within him, that he thought had long been buried---and he didn't know whether to be grateful or horrified.

     Good Heavens, what's wrong with me tonight? I'm a detective, a mouse of science...I have important work to do. Here Miss Starling comes, with a problem I need to solve, and I'm getting sentimental about her! Drat it, how will I ever get to sleep now???

     Sometime during the night, Mrs. Judson awakened to hear violin music coming from the living room, and gave an irritated sigh. There were times when she prayed that thing would get broken somehow...

     "Mr. Basil, you're not the only one who has to sleep here," she muttered crossly. But after a while the music stopped. With sudden concern, the housekeeper decided to get up and check, feeling the need for a drink of water anyway.

     She found Basil huddled up in his chair, snoring loudly with the violin in his lap and his hand limply clutching the bow...and Elizabeth's handkerchief tucked down the neck of his robe.

     Chuckling, the housekeeper picked up Basil's Inverness cape and gently laid it over him, then went back to bed, certain that she had played "matchmaker" quite nicely...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     "It sounds as though you had, Mrs. Judson," Dawson commented, chuckling himself. "But I don't understand how Basil could have fallen for Elizabeth so easily, pretty though she was...certainly many a fair 'damsel in distress' has come Basil's way, yet he'd treat her just like anyone else who asked his help."

     "Well, there's someone for everyone, they say," the housekeeper sighed. "And it developed that Elizabeth was Mr. Basil's 'someone'---though not at first...

     "It seemed, Doctor, that the only lady mice that attracted Mr. Basil's attention---if he chose to pay it---were the kind that acted stronger than other females, that seemed more sure of themselves. The ones that had, what you call, 'strength of character'..."

     "And Elizabeth wasn't that way?" wondered Dawson, as he looked again at the sweet face in the photograph.

     "It didn't appear that way, at first...but then, she wasn't what you would call a 'babe in arms', either."

     Elizabeth had reminded Mrs. Judson of a willow tree...soft and delicate, yet surprisingly able to bend. Her eyes had revealed what her lips had not...that she had borne much sorrow through the years and had had to face it with whatever courage existed in her. Yet, in spite of that---or perhaps because of it---there had been a wondrous beauty in the eyes, born out of endurance and some mystical inner strength. Most likely Basil, who would have noticed such subtleties more keenly than most people, had seen them in Elizabeth and approved.

     "And so," the doctor hinted, "did Basil show her the sights of London?"

     Mrs. Judson couldn't help smiling as she recalled that. "Yes, he did. He went to great lengths to entertain Miss Starling. At first, I feared his kindness was only out of pity, and his being anxious to find out more about her---at times, you know, Mr. Basil lets his enthusiasm get in the way of all else."

     Dawson nodded, remembering that all too well.

     "But as time went on," the housekeeper continued, "Elizabeth grew more confident at Mr. Basil's side, and much happier to be around him. She would do little things to show her appreciation---have him over for tea, bake a cake for him, help straighten his tie. All that time, though, that Mr. Basil was trying to help her confide in him, he hadn't planned on her falling in love with him.

     "Nor had he planned to fall in love with her. But it happened, and though Mr. Basil went on with his work as best he could, and tried to act like he didn't care, you could tell that he wasn't the same mouse anymore."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Yet while Elizabeth seemed to have ignored her past, whatever it was, Basil could not forget. During his spare time, he had been investigating, and while he had managed to find out a few things about the young lady, there had nonetheless been some blind alleys. He was still waiting for Elizabeth to break her silence and complete the pieces of that most irritating puzzle; but whenever he would ask her for details, she would either give an evasive answer or duck the questions completely.

     Being the detective he was, Basil could not, would not, let the matter alone. And while he continued courting his new lady love, and treating her with every kindness, he would often steal a troubled gaze at her, with the same nagging questions in his mind...

      Why, Elizabeth---why won't you tell me the truth? You said you trusted me...can't you see that I only want to help you?

End Part II

Description
In Memory of Elizabeth
A Great Mouse Detective Fanfic
By E. Grimes

(c) 2000, 2007 by E. Grimes.  Please do not use my story or characters without my express written permission. You may do artwork from this story if you credit my copyright. Thank you for your courtesy.

______________________________________

In Part I: Dr. Dawson has unwittingly conjured up the memory of Basil's lost love, Elizabeth Starling. Seeing how upset the detective is at this, Dawson later questions the situation to their housekeeper, Mrs. Judson, who tells him the story of Basil and Elizabeth's relationship. Having first met the detective, Elizabeth is uncertain of his intentions---especially after discovering a photo of Professor Ratigan, Basil's long-standing enemy...

Part II

     "Certainly you can trust me, Miss Starling," Basil assured his lady guest. "Please sit back down and tell me what's wrong..."

     But Elizabeth was reluctant to tell him everything at first. "Not right now, sir, please," she begged. "But thank you for your kindness. I guess I will take that flat after all, if it's available..."

     Mrs. Judson nodded. "I'll go see Mrs. Flaherty about it post-haste," she declared. "You two just sit and talk." She left quickly, smiling to herself.

     Elizabeth sat uncomfortably under Basil's friendly but questioning gaze. To change the subject, she gestured towards the mantel. "You have a most singular collection up there," she said, smiling lightly.

     "Oh---well, those are some little trophies from some past cases of mine," Basil answered. "Though some are reminders of my present cases.

     "Take that blighter, for instance," he continued with a smirk, as he went up and took down the photo of Ratigan. "I've been after him for years, and somehow he's always eluded me. Deucedly clever scoundrel. Of all the criminals I've gone after, I've never loathed any one of them more."

     Elizabeth nodded, somewhat encouraged. "He must be something quite awful," she said slowly.

     By now, Basil's mind was focused on his pet peeve, his private war with Ratigan and his constantly failing efforts to capture the evil genius. He launched into such a passionate tirade against his old enemy that Elizabeth was astounded.

      "How you must hate him!" she exclaimed.

     "Ah, what's not to hate, my dear?" Basil replied, tapping the picture angrily. "He's the cruelest and vilest of them all...I despise him and anything, anyone connected with him!!!"

     Hearing that, Elizabeth---who by then had been ready to tell him everything--- remained silent. Basil saw the sad look on her face, but misunderstood its meaning.

     "Oh, forgive me, Miss Starling," he sighed, as he sat back down. "Here I am ranting and raving about that nefarious cad, when you have troubles of your own!"

     The young lady collected herself quickly and smiled gently. "It's all right, Mr. Basil...I can't blame you for the way you feel."

     "I'm surprised you didn't know him before," Basil declared, looking at her curiously. "I thought all of London, if not all of England, knew who Ratigan was. But then, you originally hail from Yorkshire, Miss Starling, do you not?"

     "Why, yes," Elizabeth answered with surprise. "I suppose you can tell from my accent, Mr. Basil. But I've lived in London a few years..."

     "And now," Basil asked with care, "forgive me, Miss Starling, but isn't there anything else you'd like to tell me...perhaps, why that fellow's picture bothers you so?"

     Elizabeth stared at the floor for several moments while Basil, with a patience extraordinary for himself, lit his pipe as he waited for her to answer.

     "That...that person..." she finally replied in a low voice. "He just reminded of someone I knew...someone I'd like to forget. An old employer of mine, who was so unkind to me that I had to get away from him. I've come here to this district, hoping to find a better living somehow."

     As she spoke, Basil studied her as discreetly as possible, nodding his head in understanding. But he was certain Elizabeth wasn't telling him the whole truth.

     So she was on the run---that's quite obvious. Can she have stolen something, or witnessed a crime, perhaps? There's so much that she's leaving out, though there seems to be an element of truth to the things Miss Starling is saying...

     Sooner or later, the whole story's got to come out. I shan't press her, though; it'll only make her more nervous. I must work hard to win her confidence more and more---until she feels she can tell me everything.

     "That's most unfortunate, Miss Starling," he told her compassionately. "And I hope things work out well for you here. Believe me, you'll enjoy Baker Street. There are fine places to visit, not to mention that you live up the street from the great detective, Mr. Sherlock Holmes himself---at whose feet I was most honoured to have learned my trade.

     "And if you should need anything," he added, smiling warmly, "don't hesitate to ask for me."

     "Thank you," Elizabeth said softly, but suddenly she leaned close to Basil with a curious look on her face. Needless to say, the detective was startled.

     "What is it, Miss Starling?" he asked anxiously.

     "Forgive me for noticing," she replied, "but there seems to be a bit of dirt on you. Here---" she motioned to her right cheek.

     Basil, somewhat embarrassed, tried to wipe it off, but kept missing the spot somehow; so the young lady took out a scented handkerchief, light lavender in colour, and proceeded to dab at Basil's face. The softness of her hand and the delicate scent of violets seemed just as startling to Basil, and seeing his expression, Elizabeth tactfully allowed him to finish the job.

     "So sorry, Miss Starling," he explained. "I got quite wet and muddy on my way home, and I guess I hadn't cleaned it all off."

     "Quite all right..." Elizabeth answered, smiling bashfully.

     Just then, Mrs. Judson returned. "Mrs. Flaherty has your room all ready," she announced happily. "You can move into it now."

     Elizabeth went to the parlor and brought back a large leather bag.

     She must surely have left in a hurry, pondered Basil. It's not like a woman to travel light. Or is that all she's got in the world? But he chose not to comment.

     "Shall I see you again, Miss Starling?" he suggested. "If you'd like, I could take you on a little tour of our lovely district..."

     Elizabeth seemed at once surprised and delighted. "Why...yes, Mr. Basil. That would be nice."

     "Tomorrow afternoon, perhaps?"

     "That will be fine. Goodnight, Mr. Basil...and thank you again."

     Mrs. Judson saw Elizabeth out; then after the young lady had gone, the housekeeper turned to Basil with a knowing smile.

     "Oh, stop that," the detective snapped. "I know what you're thinking..."

     Mrs. Judson cleared the tea dishes and went to her kitchen, humming merrily, as Basil sat back down. It was then, he noticed, that Elizabeth had left behind her handkerchief. He picked it up and examined it. It was fine Chinese silk, and bore her initials on it. Making sure Mrs. Judson wasn't watching, Basil stuffed it in his pocket and retired to his room.

     But, tired though he was, Basil was unable to sleep for a while. He couldn't stop wondering about Elizabeth's reaction to Ratigan's picture, and her frightened, even mistrustful behaviour at first. He hoped he wouldn't have to wait too long before Elizabeth fully confided in him at last. Meanwhile, there was no sense in agonizing over it...

     He had laid the woman's handkerchief on his bedside table, but now he lifted it to his face, remembering how Elizabeth had wiped the dirt off of his cheek. He sniffed at the cloth's fragrance---funny, he hadn't paid attention before, but he had smelled the same violet perfume on Elizabeth when she'd leaned close to him.

     Basil hadn't considered himself a romantic by any means, so he was astounded at the emotions that surged through him. He had investigated cases for (and about) various females in the past; while he had always treated them quite graciously, it had been all business. But Elizabeth's face and voice, her fragrance and her gentle touch were awakening tender sentiments and sweet longings within him, that he thought had long been buried---and he didn't know whether to be grateful or horrified.

     Good Heavens, what's wrong with me tonight? I'm a detective, a mouse of science...I have important work to do. Here Miss Starling comes, with a problem I need to solve, and I'm getting sentimental about her! Drat it, how will I ever get to sleep now???

     Sometime during the night, Mrs. Judson awakened to hear violin music coming from the living room, and gave an irritated sigh. There were times when she prayed that thing would get broken somehow...

     "Mr. Basil, you're not the only one who has to sleep here," she muttered crossly. But after a while the music stopped. With sudden concern, the housekeeper decided to get up and check, feeling the need for a drink of water anyway.

     She found Basil huddled up in his chair, snoring loudly with the violin in his lap and his hand limply clutching the bow...and Elizabeth's handkerchief tucked down the neck of his robe.

     Chuckling, the housekeeper picked up Basil's Inverness cape and gently laid it over him, then went back to bed, certain that she had played "matchmaker" quite nicely...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     "It sounds as though you had, Mrs. Judson," Dawson commented, chuckling himself. "But I don't understand how Basil could have fallen for Elizabeth so easily, pretty though she was...certainly many a fair 'damsel in distress' has come Basil's way, yet he'd treat her just like anyone else who asked his help."

     "Well, there's someone for everyone, they say," the housekeeper sighed. "And it developed that Elizabeth was Mr. Basil's 'someone'---though not at first...

     "It seemed, Doctor, that the only lady mice that attracted Mr. Basil's attention---if he chose to pay it---were the kind that acted stronger than other females, that seemed more sure of themselves. The ones that had, what you call, 'strength of character'..."

     "And Elizabeth wasn't that way?" wondered Dawson, as he looked again at the sweet face in the photograph.

     "It didn't appear that way, at first...but then, she wasn't what you would call a 'babe in arms', either."

     Elizabeth had reminded Mrs. Judson of a willow tree...soft and delicate, yet surprisingly able to bend. Her eyes had revealed what her lips had not...that she had borne much sorrow through the years and had had to face it with whatever courage existed in her. Yet, in spite of that---or perhaps because of it---there had been a wondrous beauty in the eyes, born out of endurance and some mystical inner strength. Most likely Basil, who would have noticed such subtleties more keenly than most people, had seen them in Elizabeth and approved.

     "And so," the doctor hinted, "did Basil show her the sights of London?"

     Mrs. Judson couldn't help smiling as she recalled that. "Yes, he did. He went to great lengths to entertain Miss Starling. At first, I feared his kindness was only out of pity, and his being anxious to find out more about her---at times, you know, Mr. Basil lets his enthusiasm get in the way of all else."

     Dawson nodded, remembering that all too well.

     "But as time went on," the housekeeper continued, "Elizabeth grew more confident at Mr. Basil's side, and much happier to be around him. She would do little things to show her appreciation---have him over for tea, bake a cake for him, help straighten his tie. All that time, though, that Mr. Basil was trying to help her confide in him, he hadn't planned on her falling in love with him.

     "Nor had he planned to fall in love with her. But it happened, and though Mr. Basil went on with his work as best he could, and tried to act like he didn't care, you could tell that he wasn't the same mouse anymore."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Yet while Elizabeth seemed to have ignored her past, whatever it was, Basil could not forget. During his spare time, he had been investigating, and while he had managed to find out a few things about the young lady, there had nonetheless been some blind alleys. He was still waiting for Elizabeth to break her silence and complete the pieces of that most irritating puzzle; but whenever he would ask her for details, she would either give an evasive answer or duck the questions completely.

     Being the detective he was, Basil could not, would not, let the matter alone. And while he continued courting his new lady love, and treating her with every kindness, he would often steal a troubled gaze at her, with the same nagging questions in his mind...

      Why, Elizabeth---why won't you tell me the truth? You said you trusted me...can't you see that I only want to help you?

End Part II