Sherlock Gnomes Movie Novelization Page 4

  “One day Sherlock came across Moriarty just as he was about to level a gnome garden with a bulldozer. Sherlock stopped him just in time, but he wasn’t able to capture the evil villain.

  “Moriarty escaped, but Sherlock had caught his eye,” Watson said. He told Gnomeo and Juliet that Moriarty had been intrigued by Sherlock. He wanted to see just how powerful the detective’s skills of deduction were.

  “Moriarty began to play a terrible game. He would kidnap gnomes, leave a trail of clues as to their location, and challenge us to find them within twenty-four hours or he’d smash them.” Watson shuddered, remembering the final time he and Sherlock had seen Moriarty. “We last battled him at the Natural History Museum. It was an encounter I’ll never forget.” He described how Moriarty had snuck into Hintze Hall with a sack full of gnomes, eager to smash them.

  Watson and Sherlock had solved Moriarty’s last clue just a few minutes before their twenty-four hours were up. They had rushed to the museum and jimmied open a skylight. As they rappelled into Hintze Hall with Watson’s grappling hooks, they saw Dippy, the giant diplodocus skeleton that had been the museum’s main attraction for decades. They also saw a countdown clock on the wall with only twenty seconds left.

  Dangling in midair, Sherlock had shouted, “Show yourself, Moriarty!”

  Moriarty had stepped out of the shadows. “Sherlock! You’re early again,” he drawled. “How terribly rude. My henchmen have barely finished setting up. The goobarb pie filling has only just set.”

  Sherlock and Watson saw dozens of gnomes plastered onto a large barrel suspended from the ceiling. They were held in place by a sticky jam filling.

  Moriarty grabbed a rolling pin and leaped onto Dippy’s tail. He scurried up the dinosaur’s spine until he was within striking distance of the detective. “Come, Sherlock, come dance with me!” he crowed as he swung at Sherlock with the pin.

  Watson reached down and grabbed a loose dinosaur bone. He tossed it to Sherlock.

  Sherlock unhitched himself from the grappling rope and landed next to Moriarty. The dinosaur swayed and they both wobbled, nearly losing their balance.

  Sherlock was the first to regain his footing. “En garde!” he cried.

  Moriarty frowned. “I wanted to say that!” He steadied himself and attacked Sherlock anew.

  As Sherlock fought with Moriarty on the dinosaur skeleton, Watson had rappelled down to the ground. He peered up. The gnomes were struggling to free themselves from the sticky goobarb, but even if they had, they would have plunged to the hard tile floor below.

  Watson looked around him. He saw glass display cases and a neatly swept floor. Then he saw a janitor’s cart against the far wall. It had a mop, a bucket, window-washing liquid, and a huge bottle of soap.

  Overhead, Moriarty had jabbed at Sherlock with his rolling pin. “Be honest, Sherlock,” he cooed. “You enjoy our little game as much as I do.”

  “This is no game, Moriarty!” Sherlock ducked under the pin, and parried. “I am the sworn protector of London’s garden gnomes!”

  Watson got an idea. As the countdown timer ticked on, he ran over to the janitor’s cart. He pushed it forward with all his strength, knocking away the troll henchmen like pins in a bowling alley.

  He ran to the other side of the cart, and managed to stop it right below the suspended barrel. Grabbing the soap bottle, he leaped onto the barrel and dumped soap over the sides.

  One by one, the gnomes worked themselves free of the sticky goobarb and dropped safely onto the cart. As the last gnome peeled himself off the barrel, Watson jumped onto the ground. He heaved the cart out of the way just as the timer hit zero. The barrel dropped to the ground. Narrowly missing the cart, it had hit the floor and splintered into pieces.

  At the same time, Sherlock had finally knocked the rolling pin out of Moriarty’s hand. The villain leaped from the dinosaur onto a power cord dangling from the wall. “If you are the sworn protector of the city’s gnomes, then I am their sworn destroyer!” he cackled. “And we will keep playing this little game, Sherlock, until I crush every last gnome in London.”

  As he spoke, the power cord plug came out of the outlet.

  “Oh fudge,” Moriarty groaned. He fell, bounced off the scaffolding, and landed on the floor, still intact.

  Dippy started to teeter. Sherlock lost his balance and nearly fell off.

  “Sherlock!” Watson shouted. He vaulted himself onto the scaffolding. Just before Sherlock plummeted to the ground, Watson fired a grappling hook from his cane. Sherlock caught it, and Watson swung him to safety.

  Moriarty looked up. “Double fudge,” he had muttered as the entire dinosaur skeleton collapsed into a dusty pile of rubble on top of him.

  “Sherlock! Our hero!” the gnomes cheered.

  Sherlock brushed himself off and turned to his partner. “Watson!”

  Watson looked up hopefully.

  Sherlock tossed the cane back to him. “Yours, I believe,” he said curtly before inspecting the wreckage in the front lobby.

  All that had been left of Moriarty was his hat.

  “We thought that was the last of Moriarty, but we were wrong. He’s back,” Watson finished. He flipped over the M card to reveal an 8:43 time stamp. “And unless we find the kidnapped gnomes within twenty-four hours, Moriarty is going to smash them all.”

  “He’s going to smash our friends and family?” said Gnomeo incredulously.

  “How do we stop him?” asked Juliet.

  “We play his game,” answered Sherlock. “We follow his trail of clues and find the gnomes before 8:43 p.m. tomorrow night.” He beckoned to the others and pointed to a metal ladder that led up to a manhole cover. “We have arrived,” he said. He began to climb.

  Watson, Gnomeo, and Juliet followed.

  Chapter 12

  On a dark, deserted street, a manhole cover slid aside. Four gnomes climbed out of the sewer and looked around. A painted metal gate with a green roof tipped with fire-breathing dragons rose above them. Strings of Chinese and British flags crisscrossed the redbrick row houses that lined the street. They had arrived in Chinatown.

  Sherlock darted down an empty alley and sprang up onto a Dumpster. He beckoned for the gnomes to follow him through an open window.

  The gnomes hopped through the window and found themselves in a cluttered shop. Every last inch of every last shelf was filled with knickknacks and gifts.

  “Where are we?” whispered Gnomeo.

  “Curly Fu’s Chinese Emporium,” Sherlock replied. “Let’s go around the back.”

  The gnomes leaped onto a shelf and crawled behind a row of brightly colored vases. They snuck past a young man listening to his headphones and arrived at the clothing section of the store.

  “If you recall, the last time we were here, it was a bit of a catastrophe,” Watson reminded Sherlock.

  Sherlock frowned. “Yes, I have a faint memory of some unpleasantness.” He leaped onto a box and tossed clothes and accessories down to Gnomeo and Juliet. “I need to find the next clue. Put these disguises on so we don’t get spotted.”

  Once everyone was in costume, the gnomes hurried to the end of the store. Juliet pushed back a beaded curtain to find a bustling area filled with different Chinese ornaments.

  “Now, just act natural,” instructed Sherlock.

  As the gnomes walked down the aisles, a Chinese ornament spotted them and rushed off. A gong sounded.

  All of a sudden, dozens of lucky cats appeared around the corner. They led an elaborate procession and marched in an elegant line right toward the gnomes.

  “I’m fairly sure we’ve been spotted,” Watson told Sherlock.

  Tiny white lucky cats rounded the corner, carrying an enormous golden lucky cat on a pillow. Sherlock and Watson bowed and batted the air.

  A saltshaker figurine emerged to translate. “Her Highness the Grand Empress Dowager Pom-Pom,” he announced.

  “Meow,” said the giant golden lucky cat.

  “Empress Pom
-Pom remembers you, Sherlock Gnomes,” intoned the saltshaker.

  “Oh good!” exclaimed Sherlock.

  “Not fondly,” the saltshaker said.

  “Ah,” said Sherlock. He shrank down in his coat a little. “Less good.”

  Watson cleared his throat. “I see you got the orchid I sent to apologize for our last encounter?”

  “Meow,” said Empress Pom-Pom.

  “A gracious gift,” the saltshaker translated. “But you are not the one who offended the empress. Sherlock is. As such, I’m afraid I must ask you all to leave.”

  “He’s very sorry,” said Watson. He turned to Sherlock. “Tell her how sorry you are.”

  “I’m sorry I wasted my time solving your case,” said Sherlock.

  Watson bowed low to the empress. “Now, technically that was an apology.”

  “Dozens of gnomes are in danger, so would you kindly step aside and let me continue my investigation?” said Sherlock.

  “Meow. Meow, meow, meow. Meow . . . meow, meow,” said Empress Pom-Pom.

  “No,” said the saltshaker.

  Empress Pom-Pom signaled and two red lucky cats appeared. They were big and muscular and looked very much like bodyguards. They motioned for the gnomes to leave.

  Juliet stepped forward. “Please, we just need to take a look around,” she pleaded. “It’s very important.”

  The two red lucky cats advanced on Juliet.

  “Wait, wait, wait, let me explain,” said Juliet.

  The cats continued to advance.

  Gnomeo jumped in front of Juliet. “Oi! I’m warning you. Back off!” he cried. As the cats leaped, Gnomeo knocked both of them aside.

  One of the red lucky cats tumbled down the aisle. The other one crashed headlong into a tiny white cat.

  The tiny white cat staggered and meowed loudly. The pillow wobbled ever so slightly. Then the tiny white cat bumped into another tiny white cat. Like dominoes, all the cats holding Empress Pom-Pom’s pillow toppled over. The empress went flying.

  “Screech!” yelled Empress Pom-Pom.

  “Guards!” called the saltshaker.

  The lucky cats helped the empress to her feet and then wheeled on Juliet and Gnomeo. They hissed menacingly.

  Sherlock turned to the other gnomes. “You have to fend them off, so I can find the clue.”

  “Ah, here we go again,” sighed Watson.

  “You help Watson,” Juliet told Gnomeo. “I’ll help Sherlock.” She ran down the aisle after Sherlock.

  “Huh? Oh great,” groaned Gnomeo. He turned to one of the lucky cats and raised his fists. “All right. Me and you, let’s have it.”

  Chapter 13

  As Gnomeo and Watson battled the lucky cats, Sherlock and Juliet raced through the aisles. Sherlock’s eyes darted back and forth.

  “What are we looking for?” shouted Juliet.

  “I’m currently looking for a moment of silence so I can concentrate,” Sherlock said. He glared at Juliet, and for a moment she wondered if she should have stayed back to help Gnomeo and Watson.

  Suddenly, Sherlock stopped short. He scanned the emporium with his Sherlock vision. He was sure Moriarty had left some kind of clue. He just had to find it.

  As he gazed along the shelves, his hypersensitive vision zoomed onto one object. He pointed. “Up there!” he said. He climbed to the topmost shelf and showed Juliet what had caught his eye. It was a cuckoo clock.

  Sherlock turned the clock over in his hands. “This shouldn’t be here,” he said. “A clock is a terribly offensive gift in Chinese culture.” On a hunch, he brought the clock hands to 8:43.

  The doors of the clock sprang open. But instead of a cuckoo bird, a model airplane flew out. On one wing, a red, white, blue, and yellow circle had been painted next to the letters N and V. An M card was stuck to its other wing.

  “A plane? Is that a clue?” asked Juliet.

  Sherlock removed the card. The clock started to cuckoo.

  “Uh, oh.” Juliet looked down to see a pack of lucky cats running down the aisle. Sherlock tried to jam the clock doors shut, but it was too late. The cats spotted the two gnomes. They crouched low, tails lashing, and pounced.

  Juliet grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the shelf. She threw one to Sherlock and brandished the other one herself. As the clock cuckooed loudly, they jabbed at the lucky cats, fending off the first wave of attacking felines. But down the aisle, more were heading their way.

  “Juliet, we’re coming!” shouted a familiar voice. It was Gnomeo, closely followed by Watson. They sprinted down the aisle and leaped onto the shelf, knocking off the lucky cats that had managed to land there.

  Sherlock dropped his chopstick and held up the M card, studying it. “Curious, a different pattern,” he mused. His brain cells whizzed about, making connections. He nodded to himself, and then tossed the card away. “Let’s go!” he commanded.

  The gnomes climbed down from the shelf just as a new wave of lucky cats hurtled toward them. They wove through the aisles, searching for a way out. As they ran, Sherlock scanned the shelves. He saw paper lanterns and store signs with suction cups on them. He spotted a high window. “This way!” he called.

  As the gnomes ran to the window, Sherlock grabbed the paper lanterns and suction cups off the shelf. He threw them toward the others. “This might work,” he said.

  The gnomes followed Sherlock up and out of the window. Sherlock slammed the window shut behind them. “This way! Hurry up!” he shouted.

  The lucky cats started to claw open the window. They were still coming!

  “That steam pipe across the street,” Sherlock told Watson.

  Watson knew exactly what to do. He pressed a button on his cane, and the bottom of it opened. A grappling hook attached to a line of string tumbled out.

  Watson sunk the grappling hook into the windowsill. When he was sure it was firmly anchored, he hurled his cane. The crook of the cane caught neatly onto the steam pipe of the building next door.

  “Wow! Nice!” said Gnomeo.

  Sherlock handed everyone a paper lantern. “Put these on. Follow me. Quickly now.” He donned a lantern and began to crawl across the string. Watson, Juliet, and then Gnomeo followed. From below, they looked just like another string of lanterns in Chinatown.

  Sherlock reached the steam pipe first. He climbed up, already heading for the roof. Behind them, the horde of yowling lucky cats had managed to open the window.

  Watson was the next gnome to make it to safety. He reached the pipe just as an enormous lucky cat with an evil smile on her face appeared at the window. As Juliet jumped onto the pipe, a single claw sprang out from the cat’s paw.

  Sherlock looked down. “You may want to go faster,” he told Gnomeo as the lucky cat leaned out and began to saw away at the grappling hook string.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks for the tip,” muttered Gnomeo.

  The string broke just as Gnomeo reached the pipe. He nearly fell, but just managed to pull himself to safety. “Meow this!” he cried to the hissing cats at the window. He brought his hand up and batted it down, doing a mocking lucky cat salute.

  “Come on! And bring your lanterns!” cried Sherlock. He had made it to the rooftop. Watson and Juliet were not far behind.

  Gnomeo scowled, got to his feet, and then followed.

  Chapter 14

  Sherlock rushed across the rooftops of Chinatown. He did not look back to see if the other gnomes were keeping up. Luckily, they were. After they had raced across the entire neighborhood, Sherlock came to a stop on a ledge.

  The detective held a finger up in the air, calculating the wind. “Get ready with those suction cups,” he ordered. He attached the suction cups to his feet, and the other gnomes did the same. “On my mark,” he said.

  “Wait, what are we doing?” asked Juliet.

  Sherlock sighed in exasperation. He thought it had been obvious. “Jumping, of course.” He stepped off the roof.

  Juliet gasped and ran to the ledge. Holding her
breath, she looked down.

  Sherlock was floating calmly down toward the street. He held the lantern over his head and was using it as a parachute.

  Juliet closed her eyes. Then she took a deep breath and leaped.

  “No!” Gnomeo couldn’t believe that Juliet had jumped. He turned to Watson, about to ask if there was another way down. But Sherlock’s partner was already on the ledge. Before Gnomeo could say a word, Watson was gone.

  Gnomeo gritted his teeth. He double-checked his lantern to make sure there weren’t any rips in it. Then he held his breath and jumped off the ledge.

  The gnomes sailed through the air, held up by their lantern parachutes. Frightened pigeons squawked and got out of their way. A few humans saw the gnomes, but figured it was just a few stray paper lanterns floating in the breeze.

  Since he had taken so long to jump, Gnomeo was a few yards behind the others. He saw them land on top of a red double-decker bus. He yanked on his lantern and guided himself toward the bus.

  But just before Gnomeo landed, the bus veered right and changed lanes. Gnomeo barely managed to catch the edge of the back of the bus as he landed.

  “Suction cups down!” ordered Sherlock. He had landed at the front of the bus, while Gnomeo, Juliet, and Watson were toward the rear.

  The gnomes stomped down on the suction cups, and stuck themselves to the bus. Once he was steady, Gnomeo turned to help Juliet. But she was already scooting her way up toward Sherlock, leaving him behind.

  Juliet crouched down next to Sherlock. “The plane. Are we going to an airport or something?” she asked.

  “Juliet!” Gnomeo called.

  Juliet didn’t respond. She was too busy waiting for Sherlock’s answer.

  Sherlock shook his head. “Moriarty’s clues are never quite that simple.”

  Gnomeo watched Juliet talking to Sherlock. She was completely ignoring him. He got angrier and angrier. After all they had been through, he was losing her to some slick detective with a goofy hat!