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Sherlock Holmes and the Wicked Wizard of Oz

By Wakii Reeder & Fickal MacSciance

COPYRIGHT © 2017 Thomas Mangan

All rights reserved.

No part of this story or accompanied literature may be reproduced without permission in writing from the author.



...as the leader of the wolves came on the Tin Woodman swung his arm and chopped the wolf’s head from its body, so that it immediately died.

-L. Frank Baum (The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, 1900)

...

To the writers who inspired me to write this book.

Table of Contents

First & Baker Street: Kanas

Second & Baker Street: Tommy Gun

Third & Baker Street: What is he full of?

Forth & Baker Street: The Memoirs of a Scarecrow

Fifth & Baker Street: Flying Monkey Hunting License

Sixth & Baker Street: The Cowardly Lion

Seventh & Baker Street: Queen of the Field Mice – Wanted Dead or Alive

Eighth & Baker Street: River Crossing

Ninth & Baker Street: The Adventures of Tom, Huck, and Tip

Tenth & Baker Street: The Hand of Hickok

Eleventh & Baker Street: Ozzy and Westy Sitting in a Tree

Twelfth & Baker Street: The Showdown

Thirteenth & Baker Street: Old Fashion British Witch-Hunting

Fourteenth & Baker Street: A Spider and Hot Air

Fifteenth & Baker Street: What the Hell, Bell!

Extras:

First Round from Wrestling Thugs of Killimore High School

First Act from Screenplay of Wrestling Thugs of Killimore High School

About the Authors





First & Baker Street: Kanas

Holmes reached into his inside pocket of his jacket and took out his long pipe. With slightly yellowed fingers, he packed and lit his pipe. After taking a few long and cancerous puffs, he looked at Watson.

“How was your appreciation for the American football game?”

“Well Holmes, the crowd was enthusiastic. I can see how our British rugby has influenced America. Did you play in your old-school days?”

“No, Watson. I watched most games, but my sport of choice was boxing.”

“Ah, yes. I recall you told me.”

“Did you know this rivalry dates to before these yanks fought their own civil war?”

“Not at all.”

“Elementary, Watson. Missouri and Kanas had battles over slavery. After the civil war ended, the two states started taking out their bloody hostility on the football field instead.”

The driver was absorbed in his reading of “Popeye the Sailor Man” in the newspaper’s comics strips, when he smelled Sherlock Holmes. He briskly stopped reading and opened the car door.

“Mr. Pioneer is eager to meet the two of you,” the driver stated out of the corner of his mouth while driving 93 miles (149.7 km) per hour. He kept shifting his view from the road to the rearview mirror to look at his passengers.

“I too, am just as keen to meet him”, Watson stated while wiping some Kanas grey dust from his bowler hat.

Neither men were concerned about the car speed, so the drive lasted a short while. The driver turned into the largest house in town, surrounded by much smaller houses. With incredible speed, the driver swiftly got out from his seat to open the car door. Both men noticed the driver wearing a red pin with a shiny grey lightning bolt running through it. As soon as Holmes and Watson stepped from the car, the driver with just as much haste, jumped back in the car (Dukes of Hazard style) and burnt rubber out of the driveway. As the men neared the house entrance, a butler wearing a half mustache to the left side of the face and a monocle glass on the right, opened the door. He was wearing an all grey suit.

“This way gentlemen,” the butler groaned as if it was the least exiting thing in the universe that he could be doing at the time. Unlike the diver, the butler had no value for hustle. Like a slug, his legs seemed to drag along the fine carpet. Each lift of his knee seemed to take longer than the previous lift. His eyes drooped up at the two as he opened the door. With one arm across his body, he again groaned, “Mr. Pioneer will see you soon. Please wait here.”

The two partners looked at each other as the door shut. “What do you make of the butler, Mr. Holmes?”

“Clearly, my dear Watson, the man suffers from not being able to finish what he starts. He started to shave his mustache off but only went half way. Perhaps due to laziness as it appears that any movement for him to be unbearable. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that the reason he is wearing a monocle glass is because he is too lazy to buy a second lens.”

The two men chippered with laughter as a plump man with a nine-inch (22.86 cm) cigar protruding from his mouth enters the room. “Well, well, well, well, if it isn’t the famous Detective Sherlock Holmes and his assistant Doctor John Watson. It’s dang good to finally meet you IN THE FLESH.”

“The same, likewise, Mr. Pioneer. By the way, have you finished much writing this late in the day?”

“Ha, Sherlock! Your reputation is as all get out … and please call me Aberdeen. Now tell me, how did you know?”

“You have a distinguished deep indentation on your pointer finger which makes you left handed as well.”

“Well, this southpaw is as happy as a hog in slops, to have hired you.”

“We likewise appreciate the case. It is not often we travel outside London, let alone England.”

“Well, I also wanted to hire Inspector Baynes from the Surrey Police Force along with you boys, but he couldn’t take time off.”

“Ah yes, Baynes. He is very skilled indeed but we best work separate. Doc Watson is the best partner one needs.”

“Why, thank you for the complement Mr. Holmes.”

“Well ain’t you two boys, two peas in a pod. Now let’s not beat around the bush and let’s get down to business.”

“Yes, yes. Rightfully so.”

“You see, every so often we get a big storm here in Kanas. But, often when this occurs I lose one of my rentals.

“So you say it destroys it?” Sherlock stated, as it seemed like it took forever to light his pipe, due to his nicotine withdrawal.

“Well there is nothing usual about that, Aberdeen.” Watson chimed in, “With all, your tornados in Kanas.”

“No, No, boys. When I say I lose my rentals, I am not saying that I have a destroyed building. I am saying that it is totally gone. All that is left is a few broken pipes sticking out of the ground.”

“This is quite peculiar indeed. Aberdeen, I would like a map of the region where you own your rentals. I would like an ‘X’ on the locations of your lost rentals and an ‘O’ over the unaffected rentals.”

After making and studying the map, Sherlock concluded which rentals would be more likely to be ‘targeted’ next. Pointing at the map, Sherlock looked at Aberdeen, “Are any of these three rentals unoccupied at the moment?”

Unknowingly, with his middle finger, Aberdeen pointed to the most likely candidate, “The one over yonder on Captain Hugh Street is empty.”

“Most, excellent. I request we stay there until the case is solved. Being that all the lost rentals are within walking distance. We can inspect those first thing in the morning.”

“Ah’ite, Sherlock. Do you want me to caw my driver to take ya or simply request my butler?”

Imagining the butler driving the whole way 10 miles (16.1 km) per hour, Watson jumped at the moment and spoke, “We would very much like the driver!”

Sherlock smiled at Watson, who responded, “I fear, that if the butler drove us, we would die of old age before getting to our desired location.”

As the men stepped out of Aberdeen’s mansion, the driver was revving the engine. Of course, the drive to Captain Hugh Street lasted only a short while. This was due to the driver going 95 miles (152.9 km) per hour, not to mention missing a pedestrian by an inch and a half (3.8 cm) and then turning around to Sherlock and Watson to brag about it. As the car peeled into Captain Hugh Street, the men noticed mold growing on the outside of the dwelling. There were at least 20 stray cats hanging out on the property. As the men opened the door, the musky and moldy smell hit their noses. It stayed in their nostrils longer than any stoic man could go without showing distaste in the face. The driver placed the sleeping bags on the right side of the door.

Looking at Sherlock and Watson the driver opened his eyes wide and said, “I will check on you boyz in the morning. Hope you sleep well. Ha, ha, HA, HA, ha!” and with this odd comment the driver topped it off with a slam of the door.

Watson and Holmes looked at each other and thought what a strange trip. “Well, Mr. Holmes. It looks like we are working for a slum lord that cannot hold a candle to the ones we got in London.”

“Yet, in London, we don’t have disappearing dwellings.”

“You have a point. The east end most certainly has tie wearing gangsters but no reports of vanished buildings.”

Lightning suddenly blasted the sky. The two men looked out the window and saw a twister coming directly toward the house.


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