"Lestrade?" Someone shook Beth.

"Five more minutes," she murmured sleepily.

"No, afraid we can't!" he said, louder this time.

Beth yelped and sat up in bed. Her hand automatically went for her gun. It wasn't there.

"Now, Lestrade, you think I'm that stupid? Of course I took it," Holmes said bemused. "Now get up. Greyson gave me the orders while you were still asleep. Embarrassing really."

"What is it?"

"Actually, something interesting, I believe this man is at his last attempt to get rid of us."

"Give me five."

"All right."

 

Beth walked out of her room, in uniform. "What's up?"

"He's sending us away."

"Where?"

"One guess. Here's a clue; I am extremely familiar with this place."

"That's vague, Holmes."

"Fine," he sighed with a grin. "We're going back to the late 1800's."

"What! Is the man insane? What for?"

"Well, it seems that a crook is smuggling furs and what-not back in time."

"Sounds stupid. That's all?"

"Oh, and they have murdered six people in the past year."

Lestrade snorted. "You say that with such casualness."

"Because it is to me."

"Whatever. When do we leave?"

"Once we get to the Yard."

"Let's go."