Elementary My Dear Lee

Written by Winnie [AKA Poohbear-29]

Lee Crane sat in his favourite chair, his right foot elevated as per Doctors orders. Today was his first day alone since breaking his ankle a week ago. Heíd finally convinced Jamie that heíd stay off his feet and relax in front of the TV. Chip had volunteered to bring him dinner after he was finished with his paperwork.

ĎWonder whatís on the boob tube today?í he thought. Levering himself up, he grabbed his crutches and slowly made his way to the TV.

"Welcome to the Saturday Afternoon Mystery Theatres double bill. Todayís features are, Sherlock Holmes and The Hound Of The Baskervilles Followed immediately by, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, so sit back and enjoy the show," A mans tinny voice announced excitedly.

ĎHavenít watched a Sherlock Holmes movie in quite a while, must be nearly 3 years,í Lee thought as he made his way back to his chair and got comfortable. He reached for the bottle of painkillers Jamie had left him and popped two into his mouth.

The opening credits for the first movie ended and the story began to unfold in Holmes famous residence at 221b Bakers Street. Lee settled back to enjoy the show. By the end of the first movie he was feeling the effects of the painkillers and felt his eyes closing as the second show opened on Professor Moriarty


"Mr Holmes, Sir. You have a visitor."

"Huh," Crane said, looking into the strangely familiar face of an elderly woman, "Who are you?"

"Itís me, Mrs. Hudson. Whatís the matter with you, Mr. Holmes? Did somebody hit you over the head or something?" she asked seriously.

"Mrs. Hudson?"

"Thatís right. Dr. Watson is waiting in the lobby, should I send him in?"

"Watson, Holmesís Watson?"

"Well now I donít think thatís what he calls himself. Let me get him for you, Sir. Maybe he can make some sense of whatís happening."

"Please send him in Mrs. Hudson," Lee Crane told her. ĎWhatís going on here?í he asked himself. He was no longer in the familiar surroundings of his apartment. Instead he was seated in a chair by a fireplace. Another chair sat opposite him and in between was a small round table. A crystal decanter and two matching glasses, both used, sat beside a half eaten donut. A warm, cozy fire was burning in the fireplace and it cast a soft orange glow over the room.

ĎThis looks like Sherlock Holmesís office. Ok, Lee you must be dreaming. Just wake yourself up and everything will be back to normal.í Crane pinched his arm but nothing changed. He was shocked again when he noticed he wore checked pants, ĎThis is really weird,í he thought.

"Mrs. Hudson informs me youíre having identity problems, Holmes," Crane looked up at the familiar voice speaking in a distinctly British accent. The man standing before him was definitely Chip Morton but instead of his uniform he was dressed exactly as Watson in the movie heíd just finished watching.

"Chip!" Crane exclaimed. "Why are you wearing that old suit?"

"Chip? My name is Watson. Whatís gotten into you, Holmes? Do you want me to fetch the Doctor?"

"No donít bother. If Iím Sherlock Holmes I should be able to use my famous deductive reasoning to figure this one out."

"Thatís the spirit, Holmes, old man. Now when did this problem with your identity start?"

Crane looked at the table and laughed, "I may be Sherlock Holmes right now but thereís no way Iím smoking that pipe."

"But, Holmes, you always have your pipe when you start a new case."

"Not this time, Chip, ah, Watson."

"What is wrong with you, Holmes?"

"Iím hoping weíll be able to figure that out together."

"Perhaps we can. Tell me Holmes, where do we start?"

"I have no idea," Lee Crane told his friend.

"Come now, old man, youíve always been able to figure things out. Use that famous Holmes power of deduction."

"I donít know if I can, Watson. I canít even deduce whether or not Iím Sherlock Holmes having a nightmare about being Lee Crane or Lee Crane having a nightmare about being Sherlock Holmes," he laughed.

"Lee Crane?"

"Thatís right. Lee Crane, Captain of Seaview," he stood up and looked down at his healthy leg. "Even this is wrong. I broke my ankle last week and had surgery. It should be in a cast and I should be sitting in my chair watching television, and waiting for you, ah, Chip Morton to arrive with dinner!"

"Dinner. Holmes itís only seven am. Mrs Hudson was just preparing breakfast when I came down. My God, old man, you really are serious about this arenít you?"

"Yes, Watson, I am. Perhaps I should go back to sleep and see if I wake up someone else. Maybe Iíll find out Iím really Moriarty."

"Donít even joke about such things, Holmes. Moriarty is a dangerous man. Wait a minute maybe he has something to do with whatís wrong with you. After all he was present when the mind control document was stolen. He says heís innocent but with the document still missing, I think itís possible that he built the machine and somehow used it to confuse you. After all you were the only one who deduced the man was behind the jewel theft."

"Jewel Theft, oh you mean the Crown jewels in the Adventure Of Sherlock Holmes movie?"

"What is a Movie?" Watson asked, looking at his friend strangely

"A movie is a show on Television."

"Television, you mentioned that word before. What is that?" Watson asked worry evident on his expressive face.

"Iíll never be able to explain that one. It wasnít even invented in eighteen something or other. Whatever this year is," he said running his hands through his hair and settling back in his chair

"Eighteen eighty five. Holmes, Iím really getting worried about you, old man."

"Me too, Watson," Crane began but was stopped when Mrs. Hudson brought in a tray of bangers and eggs, toast and tea.

Placing the tray on the table she picked up the plate with the donut on it, "Whatís things coming to when all you eat these days are stale donuts!í she exclaimed.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. Iíd love a coffee." Crane stated.

Mrs. Hudson looked at Crane strangely and laughed, "Thatíll be the day. You never drank coffee with your breakfast before. Stop pulling an old ladies leg." She said hastily leaving the room.

"Tea, Holmes?" Watson asked passing a cup of the hot brew across the table.

"I donít seem to have a choice," he said. The aroma of the fresh baked bread was so enticing Crane found himself digging into the breakfast with more relish then heíd ever done before. "Mrs. Hudson is quite the cook."

"Yes she is," Watson said and looked up quickly as something sailed past Holmesís head to land with a loud thump at the opposite end of the room.

Lee Crane jumped to his feet and rushed to pick up the object.

"What is it, Holmes?"

"Itís a note from Moriarty." Crane said astonished at how easy it was to answer to the famous name.

"The man must be running out of money. He usually uses a live messenger not the old rock through the window routine. What does it say?"

"It says I am to meet him at the Tower of London at midnight tonight. He will explain whatís happening to me then."

"The Tower of London. Thatís where he supposedly killed himself. He seems to have more lives than a cat."

"Well at least he seems to have used up 3 of those lives. The man always seems to turn up like a bad penny. Thatís what Chip says after each show."

"Show? Do you mean like a play? Is that what a movie is?"

"Close enough," Crane laughed.

"What are you going to do?"

"Iím going to meet the man of course," he said, "Unless I wake up before midnight."

"What was that about waking up? Do you still insist that youíre dreaming," Watson said reaching out and pinching Cranes arm.

"Ouch! What did you do that for?"

"To prove youíre not dreaming." Watson grinned.

"Did you ever think I might be dreaming you just pinched me? I never could understand that old concept of pinching yourself to see if youíre dreaming. It hurts when youíre awake and it hurts when youíre asleep because dreams often seem so real."

"Now that sounds like the old Holmes. Your power of deduction seems to be returning. Sorry about the pinch, old man," Watson laughed and Crane could see Chip Mortonís facial expressions coming through.

"Youíre forgiven, Watson. Since we have some time to kill maybe you can tell me what this broken watch has to do with me."

Watson took the watch from Craneís hand and shook his head, "I havenít a clue, Holmes. I never saw anything like it before. Maybe it has something to do with the name written on it. Timex. What a strange name."

Crane retrieved the watch from his friend, "If I am dreaming then the watch is not broken, because according to their ads, IT TAKES A LICKING AND KEEPS ON TICKING. This could cause that company some severe financial nightmares if Iím not dreaming. Then again if Iím not dreaming this watch shouldnít even be here, because it wonít be invented for seventy or eighty years," he laughed.

"Holmes, this is really strange. I must insist that you let me go with you tonight to meet with Moriarty."

"Thank-you Watson. I would appreciate the company." Crane looked up at a soft knock on the closed door, "Come in," he said.

Mrs. Hudson opened the door and spoke softly, "Mr. Holmes, sir, the Captain of Scotland yard is here to see you. He says it important."

"The Captain of Scotland yard. By all means send him in." Crane said turning to Watson. "I think I should let you handle this. I donít even remember who he is."

"Iíll do my best, Holmes," Watson answered and stood as a man with dark hair and short stature entered the room. "Captain Orson, What can we do for you?"

Crane stared at the man he knew as Francis Ethelbert Sharkey and laughed. He was wearing a black trench coat, black fedora style hat, and an umbrella. ĎIf Iím dreaming I canít wait to wake up and tell Sharkey about this.í

"Iím here to see Holmes. I need to ask him some questions," Sharkey answered in a cockney accent that made Crane double over with laughter.

"Iím sorry, Captain. Itís just that Iíve never heard you talk with an accent before."

"Whatís the matter with you, Holmes?" the captain asked.

"Heís just having an identity crisis, Captain. Perhaps you could come back later."

"I...I donít know. I guess I could. What kind of identity crisis?"

"I donít know if Iím dreaming or awake. I donít know if Iím Holmes or Crane! I donít know if heís Watson or Morton, and I donít know if youíre the captain of Scotland Yard or chief Sharkey of Seaview. " Lee exclaimed.

"Iím Captain Orson and Iíve been with Scotland yard for nearly fifteen years," he said firmly as he turned his attention to the blonde man, "Dr. Watson have you taken him to a professional?"

"Professional what?" Crane asked.

"Professional doctor of course. I think maybe you need youíre head shrunk, maybe itís gotten too big for your shoulders. I had a cousin who had it done and now his hats fit him just fine," Captain Orson said seriously.

Crane laughed so hard he thought his sides would bust, "You obviously donít know what you are talking about, Captain. People really donít get their heads shrunk at a professional doctors office. As far as I know itís only done by certain tribes in darkest Africa and the person is usually not alive."

"But my cousin swears it happened!" Orson exclaimed.

"Well then Iíd make sure your cousin went to a different doctor. Whoever he was seeing should also accompany him."

"Iíll not stand here and listen to you put my family down for their beliefs. I came here to ask you some questions as one detective to another but I can see youíre not yourself. Iíll return when you apologize!" he said and rushed out the door.

"Holmes, old man, I think you just made a big mistake." Watson said.

"I didnít make the mistake. The people who made him captain of Scotland Yard made the mistake. How can he believe that a man can have his head shrunk? This has to be a nightmare. I wonder if I fell asleep would I wake up in the real world. I think itís time to try an experiment. Would you wake me in an hour, Watson?"

"If thatís what you want, old man."

"Thatís what I want. It might just give me the answers I need."

"What do you mean?"

"It all depends on whether you wake me as Watson or Morton."

"Which one do you prefer?"

"I donít know Watson. Why donít we wait and see? Iíll be in my bedroom."

"All right, old man. Maybe you do need to rest."


"Holmes, Wake up."

Crane sat up in the strange bed and looked around, "What? Where are we Mr. Morton?"

"Itís not Morton, itís me Watson. Donít tell me youíre still confused?"

"Iím afraid so, Watson. Why is it so dark in here? What time is it?"

"Itís nearly ten oíclock. We need to get moving if weíre to make the meeting with Moriarty."

"Moriarty? Thatís right, we have to meet him at Tower of London. But thatís not till midnight. Itís only ten am isnít it?"

"Itís nearly ten pm, Holmes."

"I could have sworn I asked you to wake me in an hour."

"It has been an hour. You went to sleep at nine pm and Iím calling you at ten pm. This seems to be getting worse, old man." Watson said worriedly.

"Thatís so strange. We just had breakfast. How can it be so late?"

"Iím really beginning to think Moriarty has used that mind control device on you, Holmes."

"You could be right, Watson. Iím beginning to think the same thing. Either that or I really am dreaming."

"Letís not start that again, Holmes," Watson grinned.


"The tower always terrified me as a boy," Watson said, his voice sounding ominous in the cold fog as they entered the White Tower.

"I can understand why. I mean there are so many stories of deaths, murders and even disappearances anyone would be weary. Sir Thomas More, John Fisher and Princess Elizabeth being 3 famous examples. Moriarty picked the White Tower for just that reason. Come Watson, the games afoot," Crane said as he rushed up the stairs to the arranged meeting place.

"Holmes wait. It could be a trap," Watson yelled running up the stairs in spite of his fears.


Crane entered the famous prison tower and was shocked to see a familiar shape standing at the north window. By candlelight he could see that the Admiral was not dressed in his usual uniform but instead wore a black pinstripe suit, white ruffled shirt, black derby hat and a grey scarf placed securely around his neck.

"Holmes, I was beginning to think you werenít going to show up."

"I take it youíre Moriarty?" Crane asked as Watson came up behind him.

"Who else would I be? I havenít changed since our last meeting."

"Iím afraid youíre wrong there. At our last meeting you fell to your death. I am supposed to have witnessed it. I just donít remember being there," Crane said.

"Iím afraid reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated as you can see."

"Yes I can see that. Tell me, Moriarty, did you steal the mind control document?" Crane asked.

"What do you think?" Moriartyís evil laugh sounded harsh in the deathlike tomb of the tower. Without giving Crane a chance to answer he continued, "Of course I did and now that youíre here I will finish the job I started. Have you noticed things are not what they appear to be? Do you feel like you are two separate people?"

"Are you trying to tell me Iím not dreaming and that Iím really Sherlock Holmes?"

"Precisely! I have perfected the device and now I will finish my little experiment. Iím afraid, Watson, you will have to die. I have no wish to leave witnesses." Moriarty said pulling a gun from his pocket and pointing it at Watson.

"NO!" Crane exclaimed as he lunged for the gun. He tackled his archenemy and the momentum took them to the edge of the stone staircase. Unable to stop themselves the two men toppled over the staircase and began a bone-breaking fall to what would undoubtedly be their deaths. Crane felt himself yell as his body hit step after step on the long trip to the bottom.


"NO," Crane screamed.

"Lee, Lee, come on wake up. Youíre having a nightmare."

"Huh! Watson. I thought I was dead.í

"Watson? Dead? What are you talking about, Lee?"

Crane shook his head and recognized the familiar surroundings. He sighed with relief when he realized it had all been a dream. "Chip, is it really you or am I still dreaming?"

"Itís me, Lee. Iím real but that must have been some dream. Whoís Watson?"

"You were Watson and I was Sherlock Holmes."

Morton glanced at the TV as the closing credits for The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes came on the screen, "I see you were watching TV before your little nap. That explains why you dreamed of being the master detective."

Crane laughed as he pulled himself upright, "You know, Chip, it was kind of weird. In the dream Admiral Nelson was Moriarty and heíd used some kind of mind control device on me to make me think I was two different people. Even Sharkey showed up as the Captain of Scotland Yard."


"Yes Sharkey and I canít wait to tell him he had such a nice cockney accent."

"Thatís some dream. By the way why did you yell NO?"

"Probably because Moriarty had just drawn a gun on you and when I tried to take it away we tumbled down the Tower of London Stairs," Crane said reaching out for the bottle of pills Jamie had given him, "I think Iíll tell Jamie to keep these."

"What are they?"

"Painkillers. But I think Iíd rather have the pain then another nightmare like the last one. Why donít we play some chess instead of watching a movie?" Crane asked.

"All right, Lee, no more movies. Iíll get the chess board."

"Thanks, Chip," Lee said with a relieved grin.


The end