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Sherlock Gnomes Movie Novelization Page 6
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Sherlock backed up. “This way,” he said.
In the distance, Juliet saw something that would help them escape. “No, this way,” she told Sherlock. She pointed to the mower, and the two gnomes started running toward it. When they reached it, Sherlock started up the engine as Juliet took the steering wheel. Toby was nearly upon them.
“Head for those laurel bushes,” Sherlock yelled.
“Give him the bone!” Juliet yelled back.
Sherlock took the bone and threw it. Toby jumped up and missed it.
Sherlock gunned the mower. Dodging the trees and pedestrians, Juliet expertly steered them to the edge of the park. They leaped off and hid behind a trash bin. Sherlock took off his half of the squirrel costume. “Well, that was an unconventional bit of parking,” he said as Juliet wriggled out of the squirrel suit. “Miss Juliet, I should tell you something.”
Juliet smiled at Sherlock. She was sure he was about to thank her for their quick escape.
“That is not how a squirrel shakes its behind. This is.” Sherlock shook his bottom in front of Juliet. “Do you see what I’m doing? Do you see? Do you see?”
“Yes, you’re acting like a rear end.” Juliet sighed. “Can we check out the clue?” She held up a button with an M on it.
Sherlock paled. “Of course this would be next. Moriarty, you monster,” he muttered. “Forcing me to face my greatest fears.”
Juliet snorted. “A button. Really?”
“This button is far less innocent than it appears. Oh, this is low, even for Moriarty.” Sherlock steeled himself. “Very well. If he wants to dance, then dance we shall!”
Chapter 17
In another part of London, a bleary-eyed stone gargoyle awoke from his sleep to the sound of banging on the front door. Yawning, he shuffled through an elegant room with a huge fireplace, decorated with gold trim and Victorian furniture. He opened the door.
A hulking gargoyle handed him a squirming sack. “This one’s a handful, Reggie,” she said.
“Why do I have to babysit and you get to do the fun stuff?” Reggie whined. “It’s not fair, Ronnie.”
Ronnie shrugged. “Boss likes me better than you.” She spread her wings and took off as Reggie brought the sack into the room. He tossed the sack on the floor, and Gnomeo burst out.
“Lemme out, you big—” Gnomeo stopped. He couldn’t believe his eyes. In front of him were hundreds of gnomes. They were milling about, playing with items from an old cardboard box marked LOST PROPERTY. And in the corner, he spotted a familiar blue cap.
“Gnomeo!” Lady Bluebury saw Gnomeo. She rushed over to her son and wrapped him up in a gigantic hug. “Oh thank goodness,” she said happily. “Did those awful monsters hurt you?”
“I’m fine, Ma,” said Gnomeo. In seconds, he was mobbed by all his friends and family from the garden.
“Juliet’s not with you. Where is she? Is she okay?” asked Lord Redbrick.
“She’s fine,” said Gnomeo. “She—”
“She dumped you,” said Nanette. She sighed. “I knew it. I don’t know why you thought you could fix things with a grand romantic gesture. That is just dumb. Talk about pulling a Gnomeo.”
“We didn’t . . .” Gnomeo frowned. “Wait, ‘pulling a Gnomeo’ means doing something cool.”
Nanette rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah. Right. That’s totally how we all use that phrase.”
“What’s going on here?” Gnomeo asked.
Fawn pointed a hoof at the gargoyle. “So, you know how gnomes were being abducted? Well, it turns out that the gargoyles had heard that something big was going down tonight with all of London’s gnomes. They were worried, so they brought all the gnomes here for safekeeping. That was nice of them.”
“They’re gonna take us home after tonight,” said Mankini.
“Yeah,” Paris chimed in. “They even promised us a big surprise. He brought his hands together and swooped them up like they were shooting stars, then fluttered them down like bits of ash and dust. “And they did that when they said it, which I thought seemed a bit ominous, like we weren’t going to get a big surprise, or if we do it’s going to be something really unspeakably horrific. But it might just be balloons.”
Gnomeo shared a worried look with Lady Bluebury and Lord Redbrick. “That’s great, guys. Go have fun,” he told them.
As the other ornaments ran off, Gnomeo huddled together with his mother and Juliet’s father. “We’re in trouble. Big trouble,” he said.
Lady Bluebury nodded. “We know, dear. We didn’t want to worry the others.”
“How bad is it?” asked Lord Redbrick.
“This Moriarty guy, he’s going to smash us all tonight,” Gnomeo whispered.
Across the room, a tiny gnome perked up his giant ears. “We’re going to be smashed?” he yelled. “This guy said we’re all going to be smashed tonight.”
Fawn looked disappointed. “Well, that’s not a very good surprise.”
As the other gnomes started to scream, Reggie banged his fist on the floor. “Quiet down, now!” he ordered. He drummed his claws on the floorboards menacingly.
Gnomeo huddled around his friends and family. “There must be a way out of here,” he said in a hushed tone.
Lady Bluebury pointed toward the ceiling. “The only way out is through that skylight.”
Gnomeo looked around thoughtfully. “But it’s so high. What about the door? Has anyone tried barging through it?”
Benny gestured to a gnome who was holding his arm. It had been smashed off at the shoulder. “Yeah, that guy.”
“Skylight it is,” Gnomeo said. He looked around the room. “Benny, do you think that if I use those trowels as climbing gear I could scale those bricks on the fireplace and use the goons to swing to the beam? Then I could tightrope walk across it, we could reach the skylight, get around the door, and open it from the other side, leading everyone to victory.” He turned around.
Benny had vanished.
“Benny!” Gnomeo whispered. A hand tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled around.
“If you’re going to escape, we’ll need to create a distraction,” Lord Redbrick said. He pointed to Benny, who had fallen out of the lost property box.
Benny staggered to his feet. He was wearing a pink frilly scarf. It billowed around him.
Reggie saw Benny and chuckled. “Ha, ha. Looks like a princess, a girl.”
The gnomes shared a look.
Lady Bluebury winked at Gnomeo. “I believe we just found our distraction.”
Chapter 18
On the crowded streets of central London, Sherlock mimicked the sound of a “text received” whistle. Everyone stopped to check their phone, allowing him and Juliet to pass by unnoticed.
Using Sherlock’s text whistle, the two gnomes had been able to travel in broad daylight along the London streets. They had made it to an above-ground subway station, and watched as a train sped by, clattering along the tracks.
“Is that the underground?” Juliet whispered. “I thought that it was, well, underground.”
“Despite its name, nearly fifty-eight percent of the underground is actually aboveground,” Sherlock explained. “Humans use it to travel around London. Now, would you like to see Big Ben, or can we get on with our investigation?”
He whistled and strode across the street. Juliet bit back an angry reply and followed.
They stopped in front of a brightly painted building. Its window display was made entirely of toys. “There it is,” Sherlock whispered. “He pointed to a sign that read DOYLE’S DOLL MUSEUM.
“The Doll Museum?” Juliet said.
Sherlock nodded gravely. “The Doll Museum. I must now confront the most terrifying ornament in all of London.”
“Moriarty?” Juliet guessed.
Sherlock corrected himself. “I must now confront the second most terrifying ornament in all of London.” Motioning for Juliet to follow, he snuck around to a tiny door at the back of the museum. He rapped twice, paused,
rapped five more times, and coughed.
A miniature eye slot opened. “You sure you wanna come in here?” asked someone with a high-pitched voice.
Sherlock nodded.
The door opened, revealing a giant teddy bear holding a much smaller teddy bear.
“Your funeral,” cackled the smaller bear. The larger bear silently led Sherlock and Juliet inside.
They passed dozens of empty display cases until they arrived at a makeshift arena in the middle of a room. Hundreds of different dolls were piled on stadium seats, cheering on an enormous gorilla. The gorilla was beating his chest.
Juliet turned to Sherlock. “Yikes. The second most terrifying ornament, I presume.”
Sherlock shook his head. “Not him.”
A giant robot entered, waving its enormous steel arms.
Juliet cocked an eyebrow.
“Not him,” said Sherlock.
Juliet and Sherlock pushed their way to the center of the arena. A boxing ring had been set up, and the gorilla was seated at a table in the middle of it. He was arm wrestling a slender female doll with dark curls and long eyelashes. She wore an elegant ball gown and appeared to be winning the match.
“Her,” said Sherlock. He pointed to the woman. “Irene Adler.”
“Sherlock Gnomes,” the woman purred. She broke off the gorilla’s arm and tossed it away.
“Wait, double or nothing?” begged the gorilla.
Irene snapped her fingers, and the big teddy bear ushered the gorilla away. Irene turned to face Sherlock. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face around here.”
“Hello, Irene,” said Sherlock mildly. “You’re looking well.”
“A letter. You ended our engagement in a letter,” Irene stormed.
Juliet took a step back. “You two were . . . engaged?”
“That might be a mild overstatement,” said Sherlock.
“Don’t you dare!” Irene hissed. “And now, after months of silence, you show up with this cheap porcelain thing.”
Juliet raised her eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?”
“She’s just my assistant,” Sherlock said.
“Oh, I am not your assistant,” Juliet shouted.
Irene smiled slowly. “Better get your stories straight.”
“Irene, please,” said Sherlock. “This is important. This is one of yours, isn’t it?” He held up the button.
“I don’t know, Sherlock,” Irene drawled. “There’s an awful lot of buttons in this city.”
“But precious few are used to pass coded messages through the ornamental underworld,” replied Sherlock.
“Is that why you’re here, Sherlock?” Irene’s voice dipped dangerously low. “Did you come to bust me?”
Sherlock frowned. “You know why I’m here, Irene. You have something for me. A clue in my investigation.”
“Of course you’re only here for work. That’s all you ever cared about.” Irene stood up. “Sherlock Gnomes, it’s time you got what’s coming to you.” She snapped her fingers and struck a pose.
“Are they going to smash us?” Juliet asked Sherlock.
“Even worse,” Sherlock replied grimly. “She’s going to sing.”
Irene peeled down her fancy dress, revealing a dance costume underneath. Sherlock and Juliet listened as Irene performed a long song and dance number. Juliet didn’t catch all the lyrics, but she got the impression that Irene was telling Sherlock that she didn’t need a man and was much better off without the wretched detective.
On the last beat of the song, the big teddy bear tossed Sherlock and Juliet outside and slammed the door behind them.
“Well, that was rather unpleasant.” Sherlock brushed off his coat. “Irene must have the clue, because she was expecting me. She couldn’t possibly have improvised such an elaborate song.” He checked the sun, calculating the time. “She will need at least forty-two minutes to cool down—but we don’t have the time.”
Juliet banged on the door as hard as she could. “Listen up, doll,” she cried. “You’ve got something I need, and I’m not leaving here without it. So, are you going to open up, or do I have to break your door down?”
Sherlock gasped. “Are you insane? You can’t provoke Irene like that! She’s an incredibly passionate doll. There’s no telling what she’ll—”
The door opened. The teddies emerged. “You can come in,” the little teddy told Juliet.
As Juliet entered, the big teddy bear put a hand out and stopped Sherlock. “You can’t.”
Chapter 19
The teddies brought Juliet to a fancy dining room, where Irene sat waiting. She was at a table set for tea, wearing yet another stylish dress that went flawlessly with a lacy, wide-brimmed hat. “Here I thought garden gnomes were all overweight and bearded, but you’re actually . . . cute. Hardly any facial hair at all.” Irene picked up a teapot and stared icily at Juliet. “Would you like some tea?”
Juliet shook her head. “Um, no thank you.” She wasn’t sure how she would be able to convince Irene to help her, but she had to try something. “I, I just want—”
“I’ve often wondered what it’s like to be a gnome,” Irene interrupted. “I mean, wearing the same red dress every day would be like a fashion prison for me. And living outdoors must be awful. Standing outside in the rain and the freezing cold. Like a dog.”
Juliet lost her patience. “I really don’t have time for this,” she snapped. “Please, just hand over the clue.”
Irene shook her head. “Work, work, work. Now I see why Sherlock chose you.”
Juliet folded her arms. “It’s not like that. Sherlock didn’t ‘choose’ me.”
“And he never will,” said Irene. “With Sherlock, work always comes first. There’s always another case to crack, another mystery to solve, another backyard of gnomes to rescue.”
“You don’t understand,” Juliet protested.
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” said Irene. “Because I forced Sherlock to choose. Me or the work. And if he didn’t choose me, what makes you think he’ll choose some common garden gnome?”
Juliet sprang to her feet. She was furious. “Enough!” she cried. “I don’t care about Sherlock. He is the single most annoying gnome I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t date Sherlock if he were the last gnome on Earth.”
The teddies drew back, scandalized.
Juliet kept going. “I already have a partner. And he’s nothing like Sherlock. Gnomeo is reckless and emotional and isn’t obsessed with work. Gnomeo just wants to have fun . . . with me. He just wants to have fun with me. And he doesn’t treat me like an assistant. He treats me like I’m . . .” She smiled, remembering. “Like I’m the toughest gnome in the garden. He believes in me. He loves me with all his heart. And if you asked him to choose between me and work or anything really, he’d choose me. Every time.”
Irene went silent. “A man doesn’t make you strong,” she said finally.
“You’re right,” Juliet agreed. “A man doesn’t make you strong. But the right partner can make you stronger.”
Irene stared at Juliet, and the anger in her eyes melted into grudging respect. She was impressed by Juliet’s strength. “All right. I’ll give you want you want, but only on two conditions. First, you tell Sherlock this had absolutely nothing to do with him.”
Juliet nodded. “And the second?”
“After you save the day, you come back here and tell me all about it.” Irene rose up and extended her hand.
Juliet took the doll’s hand and shook it. “You’ve got yourself a deal,” she said.
• • •
A few moments later, Juliet was courteously escorted out of the dollhouse by the teddy bears. Before they closed the door, they handed her a card. “Thanks,” she said.
Sherlock stood outside, completely in shock. “Irene gave you the clue?” He couldn’t believe it.
Juliet sniffed. “Well, maybe she would have given it to you if you hadn’t treated her so horribly.”
�
�I didn’t treat Irene horribly. I treated her the same way I treat everyone,” Sherlock said.
“And you treat everyone horribly,” Juliet informed him.
Sherlock stuck his hand out. “Can you just please stop talking and give me the clue?”
“Oh yeah, you’re a regular Prince Charming.” Juliet held out the clue, and Sherlock snatched it. It was an M card with scribbled writing on the back. Sherlock examined it, and then gave it back to Juliet.
“ ‘You already know it’s all about you. So what is the pattern in the final clue?’ ” Juliet read. She looked up at Sherlock. “This is it, isn’t it? The last piece of the puzzle.”
Sherlock didn’t answer. He had already gone into his mind palace, analyzing the clues. “The patterns, the patterns, the patterns,” he muttered. “Where are they leading us?”
As Sherlock put all the clues together, a familiar shape emerged in his brain. He brought his head up sharply. “Traitor’s Gate! The old water gate entrance to the Tower of London. Where Watson and I solved our very first case,” he mused. “But I don’t remember it being an unpleasant experience.” He frowned. “We’re supposed to be there at precisely 8:43 p.m. Traitor’s Gate is miles away. It will take us hours to get there.”
“There has got to be a way we can get there in time,” said Juliet.
“There is,” replied Sherlock. “But it’s a complete and total last resort.” He tipped his head toward the ground.
Juliet heard the sound of a train rumbling underneath. “The Tube!” she gasped. “Let’s go!”
Sherlock followed hesitantly. “You do realize how dangerous this is. We have, at best, a nine percent chance of surviving.”
“Then nine percent it is,” Juliet said determinedly. “Come on. We’ve got a train to catch.”
Chapter 20
In the Victorian room, Gnomeo and the other gnomes were putting their plan into action. They were going to distract Reggie with a play while Gnomeo snuck out through the skylight.
The gnomes set up a stage using some blocks they found in the lost property box. Lady Bluebury went to an old Casio keyboard. She sat down and began to play an overture.