Sherlock Gnomes Movie Novelization Page 7

  Paris took the stage. “Theater lovers, welcome,” he announced. “Once upon a time, a beautiful princess was riding through the woods on her trusty steed.”

  Benny and Fawn appeared on the stage. Benny was dressed as a princess, and was riding Fawn. “And now I’m typecast forever,” the deer grumbled as he galloped across the stage.

  Paris continued. “Suddenly, the princess came upon a frog who had been cursed by an evil witch.”

  There was a grunt, and Nanette was shoved onto the stage. “Ribbit. Ribbit,” she said half-heartedly.

  Reggie watched, riveted. Behind the gargoyle, Gnomeo was climbing up the fireplace using two garden trowels to dig into the bricks. The three goons clung to his ankles.

  “And the only way, of course, to lift the curse was with a kiss from the princess,” Paris said.

  Benny leaned forward eagerly.

  Nanette grimaced. “Surely there’s another way to lift the curse. What if I kiss something else? Like a dung beetle? Or this guy?” She pointed to a toilet gnome.

  “No,” Paris said firmly. “A kiss from a princess is the only way to lift the curse.”

  Benny leaned in again.

  Nanette backed away. “Okay, so how bad is this curse, exactly? I mean, are we talking permanent bad breath, or is it more serious, like a gluten allergy?”

  Paris shook his head. “No, the curse is that you are a frog.”

  “Excuse me?” Nanette’s voice rose an octave. “Since when is this considered a curse?” She walked off the stage. “I will not be a party to this antifrog rhetoric.”

  Without Nanette, the gnomes had to improvise. As Reggie started to turn away from the stage, Lady Bluebury shoved Mankini onstage.

  “Then, suddenly, the evil Baron . . . Von . . . Mankini appeared,” Paris blurted out.

  Reggie turned back to the stage.

  “The most . . . vile and . . . despicable villain that these lands ever did see,” Paris stammered.

  Mankini smiled innocently.

  “Fortunately, the princess had her mighty horse. And he . . .” Paris trailed off as Fawn walked off the stage.

  Meanwhile, Gnomeo had made it to the top of the fireplace. He hopped onto a roof beam and began to run across it, followed by the goons. He made it under the skylight, but it was too high for him to reach.

  “So, now who will save the princess from the baron’s evil clutches?” Paris wailed miserably.

  Gnomeo climbed up onto two goons. Standing on his tippy-toes, he was able to touch the skylight window with his fingertips, but he was still too short to open it.

  “Who will save the princess?” Paris repeated desperately.

  Reggie was getting bored. He was turning away from the stage when a deep rumbling voice cut through the air.

  “Get away from the princess, you dirty rotten scoundrel!” Lord Redbrick jumped onto the stage.

  “It was Prince Lord Redbrick,” cried Paris, relieved.

  “Indeed!” huffed Lord Redbrick. “And Prince Lord Redbrick knew, to escape the evil fiend, he had to grab that third pointy . . . sword and thrust it high into the air.” Lord Redbrick thrust his imaginary sword into the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gnomeo’s eyes brighten. He knew what Lord Redbrick was trying to tell him.

  “Attaboy,” Lord Redbrick whispered. Then he turned to Mankini. “Ha, ha! Now get out of here, Baron Von Mankini!”

  Gnomeo grabbed the third goon and lifted him up, using his pointy hat to prop open the skylight.

  “This prince guy is freaking me out,” said Mankini.

  “My hero!” cried Benny as Gnomeo disappeared through the window.

  A moment later, a shadow descended. The goons tumbled back onto the roof beam as Ronnie flew through the skylight. She glared at the goons, and then looked down at the gnome stage. “What is all this?” she asked.

  “They were putting on a show,” explained Reggie.

  “Yeah, well, show’s over,” roared Ronnie. She grabbed the goons and dumped them into the lost property box. Snatching gnomes left and right, she filled the box to the brim. Then she picked up an empty box and shoved it toward Reggie. “Boss needs these gnomes moved to the Tower Bridge,” she snarled.

  Lady Bluebury saw a blue hat poking through the skylight. Gnomeo raised his head for a brief moment and met her eyes. Then, he was gone.

  Gnomeo had escaped.

  Chapter 21

  In the Baker Street underground station, Juliet and Sherlock slipped out of a heating duct and crouched behind a pillar. Sherlock whistled the sound of a text message. As the humans checked their phones, the gnomes hurried across the platform. They slipped down next to the tracks just as a sharp whistle came blasting through the tunnel. They pressed themselves against the wall as an enormous, terrifying train pulled into the station.

  “Those front bumpers—they’re our only chance of surviving this ride. Go!” Sherlock shouted.

  The gnomes ran across the tracks and leaped onto the front bumpers of the train. There was a ding, and the train doors closed with a thud.

  Sherlock and Juliet hung on for dear life as the train rumbled down the tracks. As they sped through the tunnel, a plastic bag caught on Sherlock’s hat. It started to pull him off the bumper by sheer wind force. Sherlock reached up to remove the bag just as the train lurched. He slipped, and barely managed to grab on to the side of the bumper. He dangled, inches from the tracks below.

  A sharp turn loomed ahead. Juliet gathered up her strength and swung herself onto Sherlock’s bumper. She grabbed the detective and yanked him back up just before the turn.

  The two gnomes squeezed together on the bumper. Just when they thought they couldn’t hold on any longer, the train slowed and came to a stop.

  “See?” panted Juliet. “Piece of cake.”

  “No, Miss Juliet.” Sherlock looked grave. “There are eight more stops to go. I fear we’re not going to make it.”

  Juliet’s cursing was drowned out by a ding. The doors closed, and the train took off again.

  • • •

  Miles later, exhausted and half deaf, Sherlock and Juliet hopped off the train and sprinted to Traitor’s Gate. On the gate, they saw a digital clock ticking down.

  “We’re nearly out of time. Hurry!” urged Sherlock.

  They ran as fast as they could, but the clock hit zero before they had made it. Sherlock and Juliet arrived late, out of breath and gasping.

  “Where are the gnomes?” Juliet asked.

  “Show yourself, Moriarty!” Sherlock demanded.

  Juliet wrenched open the door to Traitor’s Gate and rushed inside. She found herself in a well-lit Victorian room scattered with blue and red paint chips on the floor. It was completely empty.

  “Where are the gnomes?” Juliet cried.

  Two winged shadows descended through an open skylight. Juliet looked up in horror as Ronnie and Reggie landed down in front of her. With a swipe, Ronnie had her firmly in her claws.

  “Sherlock!” Juliet yelled. “Do something!”

  Sherlock looked at Ronnie. Then he kicked the gargoyle, very lightly, on the shin.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Juliet groaned.

  Ronnie picked up Sherlock and threw both gnomes into a wooden box. As they got to their feet, they saw a bowler hat perched on top of a familiar figure. He was slumped on the floor with his head in his hands.

  Sherlock gasped. “Watson?” For a second he stood frozen, hardly daring to breathe. Then he raced toward his partner and pulled him to his feet. He clasped one of Watson’s hands and shook it over and over. “I’ve missed you, old friend,” he said, his voice cracking for the first time in his life.

  Watson tried to pull away, but Sherlock would not let go of his hand. He smiled. “How did you get here?”

  “Moriarty’s clues led us to Traitors’ Gate, but then we were captured by these hooligans.” Juliet shuddered. “We thought you were dead! How did you survive the fall at the museum? We heard you shatte
r on the ground.”

  “It was just a flower pot that fell,” Watson said. “I managed to grab on to a ledge, but after the gargoyle took off with Gnomeo, it came back for me. I’ve been stuck in this box this whole time.”

  “Be quiet!” shouted Ronnie. She glared down at the gnomes. “Let’s go,” she told Reggie. Holding the box between the two of them, the gargoyles lifted off through the skylight and into the open air. After what seemed like an eternity, the gnomes felt the box being set down, and the sound of wings flapping away.

  As Juliet banged desperately on the side of the box, Sherlock sat staring at the tip of his shoe. It had a white speck on it from when he had kicked the gargoyle.

  Juliet turned to the silent detective. “Sherlock!” she shouted.

  Sherlock remained silent.

  “For goodness sake! Will you just say something?” Watson pleaded.

  “Limestone,” Sherlock replied. “The substance on my shoe—it’s limestone.”

  Juliet rolled her eyes. “He meant, say something useful.”

  “I just did. The gargoyles lied. They’re not from Traitors’ Gate. So, if we can deduce where they’re really from—”

  “We’ll find the gnomes,” Juliet finished.

  “That’s why I kicked that gargoyle,” Sherlock explained. “To see, quite literally, what he was made of.” He raised his foot and showed Juliet the white powder on his shoe. “Limestone,” he pronounced. “Only nine percent of London’s gargoyles are made of limestone. The gargoyles also reeked of salt. At first, I thought it was just the pungent musk of the Thames. But, here, taste my shoe.”

  Juliet shook her head. “Just keep going.”

  “The salt is from the gargoyles themselves, which means they must live close to the water.” Sherlock put his hand on the side of the box. “Now, do you feel that?”

  Juliet put her hand next to the detective’s. She could feel the side of the box vibrating.

  “It’s the dull hum of a marine propulsion engine,” Sherlock said. “Which means we’re on a ship.”

  As if on cue, the deep blast of a ship horn sounded. The gnomes felt the box lurch from under them.

  “From the sound of the horn, the HMS Nimrod, to be precise.” Sherlock licked his finger and raised it above his head, testing the wind. “We’ve just set sail headed east, directly toward a structure which is both on the water and protected by limestone gargoyles—”

  “Tower Bridge!” Sherlock and Watson exclaimed together.

  Sherlock staggered back. “Do you see? That’s why he put us on this ship. We have to pass under the bridge.”

  Before Juliet could ask what on earth Sherlock was talking about, they heard slow clapping coming from the far side of the box. They looked over and noticed a hidden curtain.

  Sherlock walked over and pulled back the curtain. Underneath, a cell phone was glued to the side of the box. And smiling straight at them from the glare of the cell phone screen was the sinister face of Moriarty.

  Chapter 22

  “Surprise, Sherlock!” Moriarty cackled. “Sorry to not be in touch. I was pretending to be dead. Oh, also, I hate you.”

  “Moriarty,” Sherlock said. “How awful to see you.”

  “So I have been—I’ve been just peachy,” Moriarty babbled. “Took up fishing, gave up fishing. It’s really boring!” he said cheerfully.

  Sherlock looked at the phone screen skeptically. “But . . . you’re dead.”

  “Oh, you’re talking about when the entire dinosaur fell on me!” Moriarty chuckled. “I survived the fall . . . and immediately began to plot your demise. But first, I wanted you to become the unwitting executioner of all the gnomes in London, which is why I kidnapped every single one of them. And when your pretty boat gets to the Tower Bridge, you will get to see them all die.” Moriarty beamed. “So the game is not afoot or a hand or a leg, it’s just over. And you lose. Bye-e-e-e!” He leaned over and pressed a button. The screen went blank.

  Watson hung his head.

  Sherlock closed his eyes.

  Juliet stood very still. Then she drew back her foot and aimed it at the corner of the box. “Let’s go save those gnomes,” she said.

  • • •

  Three minutes later, the three gnomes had karate-kicked their way out of the box and made their way to the deck of the boat.

  “We need to get off this ship,” Sherlock said. “A naval destroyer should have—”

  “Surveillance quadcopters,” Watson finished. He pointed to a drone. “There!”

  Juliet hopped onto the drone and grabbed the controls as Sherlock and Watson climbed on behind her. “I’ll drive.”

  “Perhaps we should take this nice and slow,” Sherlock said as the drone staggered into the air.

  “My friends, my family, and the love of my life are in danger. I’m going to take this very, very fast,” Juliet replied. She hit the throttle, and the drone took off like a shot.

  Flying low through the fog, Juliet zoomed toward the Tower Bridge. As she approached, she saw a beloved figure with a blue cap running over the roof of the bridge. It was Gnomeo—with Moriarty and the gargoyles right behind him!

  Juliet steered the drone upward. As she drew close, one of the gargoyles lunged out to grab Gnomeo.

  Gnomeo ducked. Running as fast as he could, he took a mighty leap off the roof. His hand flew wildly in the air . . . and caught Juliet’s hand.

  “Gotcha!” Juliet said as she hauled Gnomeo onto the drone. “You deal with Moriarty,” she told Sherlock and Watson. “Gnomeo and I will take care of the gargoyles.”

  Sherlock and Watson hopped onto the roof walkway, and Juliet gunned the engine, drawing the gargoyles farther upward. She shouted quick instructions to Gnomeo. When she reached the very top of the bridge she hovered for an instant, just long enough for Gnomeo to leap down next to the bridge’s powerful search beacon.

  Juliet turned and plummeted toward the water. Ronnie and Reggie dove down after her. Right before she was about to hit the waves, she pulled up hard. The drone zoomed along, inches above the Thames, with the gargoyles in close pursuit.

  A few seconds later the HMS Nimrod came into view, heading straight for the bridge. Flooring the pedal, Juliet raced the drone up the side of the ship and straight over the bow, where a cluster of human naval officers stood on the deck. As Ronnie and Reggie followed, the search beacon on the tower bridge turned . . . and shone straight at them.

  Forced to freeze in place, the gargoyles dropped onto the ship. As the confused humans gathered around them, Juliet zoomed back to the bridge and landed next to Gnomeo, who was still pointing the search beacon steadily on the gargoyles.

  Juliet leaped off the drone and gave Gnomeo a hug. “Gnomeo, I am so sorry.”

  Gnomeo clinked his head gently against Juliet. “I know. Me too.”

  The two gnomes shared a sweet, lingering kiss.

  “Now let’s go get our friends back,” Juliet said.

  • • •

  On the roof walkway, the two detectives were in trouble. Using his rolling pin, Moriarty had bashed away at Sherlock and Watson, knocking Watson to the edge of the bridge and cracking one of Sherlock’s legs.

  As Sherlock feebly raised his magnifying glass to ward off Moriarty’s blows, the evil villain chuckled. “Oh, Sherlock,” he said. “Did you really think you could defeat me? I am smarter than you. I am stronger than you. I am your superior in every way.”

  “Well, you’re certainly more long-winded,” Sherlock replied.

  Moriarty sprang forward and knocked the magnifying glass out of Sherlock’s hands. He spun and whacked Sherlock with his rolling pin, knocking him to his knees. “And now we’ve reached the end of our story. I always knew it was going to end like this.” Moriarty raised the rolling pin high, ready to deliver the final, shattering blow. “With your inevitable destruction,” he cackled.

  Suddenly a cane flew through the air, knocking the rolling pin out of his hands. “No!” Moriarty screamed. He
turned to find Watson standing at the edge of the walkway. Gnomeo and Juliet hovered in the drone next to him.

  Watson darted forward and picked up his cane. “You’re finished, Moriarty,” he said.

  Moriarty’s eyes widened. Then his mouth curled into a sneer. “Well, then. My hat’s off to you. Literally.” He broke of his hat and hurled it straight into one of the drone’s propellers.

  The drone bucked, throwing Gnomeo and Juliet off it. With a screech, it crashed into the bridge, trapping the two gnomes beneath it.

  “Hang on!” Watson yelled. He turned toward the destroyed drone and began to pull Juliet out of the rubble.

  “Watson, behind you!” Juliet yelled.

  Watson turned to see Moriarty skipping over.

  “Hello!” said the villain. He picked Watson up and threw him over the edge of the bridge. Watson flung his hand out and barely managed to grab on to the ledge. He dangled helplessly, a hundred feet above the water.

  “Okay, bye-bye!” Moriarty sang. He raised a foot to kick away Watson’s hand.

  “Come, Moriarty!” Battered and bruised, Sherlock limped over to his partner.

  Moriarty raised his eyebrows. “Give it up, Sherlock. What are you going to do, depress me to death?”

  Sherlock coughed. “Come dance with me,” he said weakly. Gathering up the last of his strength, he threw himself onto Moriarty, hurling the two of them over the ledge.

  As they fell, Watson reached down with his cane and lassoed Sherlock around the leg. He held Sherlock firmly as Moriarty continued to tumble down.

  “Oh, big hairy bums,” Moriarty groaned as he plunged into the Thames.

  • • •

  Watson and Sherlock climbed back onto the roof walkway and quickly freed Gnomeo and Juliet from the rubble.

  Juliet brushed pieces of drone off Gnomeo’s arm. “How did you know Moriarty was here?”

  “When I was taken by the gargoyle, it brought me to a room with all the kidnapped gnomes.”

  Juliet nodded. “Traitors’ Gate.”

  “I was able to escape,” Gnomeo continued. “But before I did, I overheard the gargoyle saying that the boss wanted all the gnomes at Tower Bridge. So I got here as fast as I could, and found them locked up in one of the towers. Moriarty must have been interrupted before he could carry out whatever diabolical plan he had in mind.” He grinned. “Shouldn’t take more than a minute or two to free them.”