Title: The Adventure of the Numerous Stains
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Rating: G
Length: 520
Summary: Mrs. Hudson reconstructs the finale of Holmes' latest case, using the stains on his shirt.

It was laundry day at 221 Baker Street and the new girl was scowling at one of the shirts.

“Is anything the matter?” asked Mrs. Hudson.

Bessie looked wary. “No, ma’am. I was just wondering... Well, I was wondering...”

“...how Mr. Holmes gets his clothes in such a mess?”

Bessie grinned and nodded.

“Let us see if we cannot reconstruct the chain of events...”

Mrs. Hudson reached across and took the shirt. She held it up to the light and examined it closely. Then she showed it to Bessie, holding out the left sleeve.

“The cuffs have been removed but observe the faint smudge at the end of the sleeve. Mr. Holmes had apparently been making notes on his cuff again and his pencil slipped. So we may presume he was wearing this shirt during a case.”

Bessie nodded.

“Ah, and here we have an explanation as to why his hand slipped.” Mrs. Hudson indicated a deep red stain near the neckline.

“Blood,” said Bessie, in horrified delight.

“No, dear. Blood dries brown,” said Mrs. Hudson. She narrowed her eyes at the stain. “I think the gentleman Mr. Holmes was interviewing must have thrown his claret over him.”

She examined the front of the shirt again. “There is slight bunching round the stain, which indicates that the gentleman then attempted to grab Mr. Holmes.” She lifted up the right sleeve. “But there is an answering strain under the arm, which suggests Mr. Holmes got the miscreant into a headlock.”

Mrs. Hudson turned the shirt round to display the back.

“However, the gentleman must have freed himself because here we have several indications as to how things proceded. There are dirt stains on the back—perhaps from a large, undusted item of furniture that Mr. Holmes backed into. But that in itself is less important than the indication that Mr. Holmes took off not only his jacket, but his waistcoat. The fight must have become heated indeed.”

Bessie’s eyes were wide. “What happened? Who won?”

“I do believe our Mr. Holmes must have been the victor. If you consider this speckled brown pattern across the front of the shirt…”

Bessie leaned forward.

“That is blood. Mr. Holmes presumably threw an uppercut at his opponent’s nose, and subdued him in that way.”

Mrs. Hudson shifted the shirt again to display an area next to the claret stain.

“And that, I think, is almost the end of the story. But here finally we have the worst stain of all…”

“Yes?” breathed Bessie.

“Grease from fried fish when Mr. Holmes stopped off to have supper on the way back to Baker Street.” Mrs. Hudson frowned. “It’ll be the devil to get out.”

Bessie was practically bouncing. “Mrs. Hudson! That was marvellous!”

Mrs. Hudson smiled. “Well, you do learn a thing or two when living with the world’s only consulting detective.”

She set the shirt to one side.

“Like sending the very badly stained items out to be washed and adding the bill to his rent.”

Bessie giggled.

“Right then,” said Mrs. Hudson. “On with the rest. I’ll scrub and you can operate the mangle!”