4 comments/ 21012 views/ 0 favorites The Devonshire Epicurean Society By: SEXY G. The Devonshire Epicurean Society "Well... for starters, he's obviously a 'day laborer,' from his modest work-attire, the dust clinging to them, and the dirt still under his fingernails, he hadn't had time to brush them off, or scrub under them deep enough. Probably a brick-layer or hod carrier of some sort - there appeared to be some sort of brick-like clay still clotted to the soles of his work-boots." "Yes... go on..." "His bowler hat seemed not to match the rest of his outfit - possibly from his only good dress suit, worn solely on Sundays, for church attendance. Also, there seemed to be a residue of hair grease mixed with clippings inside the headband, indicating that he'd recently had time for a decent haircut, but not enough to have the hat itself both cleaned and blocked, demonstrating the truth of his meager income at present, at least!" "Yes, yes - very good, so far! Please go on... " "Also, by the diffident manner in which he held the fine china teacup, seemed to say to me that he wasn't used to being in the constant presence of gentlemen, as he'd referred to you and I. But - that's about it, all I can glean from first meeting him, I'm afraid, Holmes! "Oh, Watson - have I not taught you enough? You've missed out on two very important, very key items! Tell me... didn't you notice a rather familiar aroma, as you'd entered up the stairs? One that should indicate something that he'd omitted in telling us about his family?" I dwelt on this point a moment - then, it slowly began to dawn on me! "Yes, now that you mention it... there was a rather peculiar smell, almost like that of..." "Livestock, Watson," Holmes interrupted, "more precisely - cow dung! And, if I'm not mistaken, our Mr. Arthur Ermine spoke with a distinctly Yorkshire accent! Yorkshire, Watson - farm country! Our client has indeed fallen on hard times, descending from being a cattle farmer, to a common laborer! And - what's more - from these observations I believe we can extrapolate at least two very important facts about our Audrey." "And - what would those be, Holmes?" He smiled at his own cleverness. "One, that she was raised on a fairly healthy farm diet, of good beef, pork, vegetables, and grains. And, second..." he paused for emphasis, "...she most likely was a virgin, at least when she left her home, the farm, for her new position!" "Really, Holmes?" I marveled, "You never cease to amaze me with these brilliant leaps to conclusions! You always make it seem so, very..." "Elementary, Watson? I keep telling you, over and over - all the evidence is right there, right in front of your eyes, your ears - and even, your very nose! In the science of criminal deduction, you must learn to use all of your senses combined. And - I do believe our olfactory sense may come in quite indispensable in pursuit of this case! Tell me, dear chap - can you possibly find it to take some time off from your practice for a few days, to join me in this investigation?" I but gave it a moment's thought. "Well, yes, Holmes, I suppose I could put upon my nearest medical colleague to handle any of my cases for the next couple of days, my nurse could go assist him as well... if only to see you up and about, again!" "Splendid! Why not go back home, then, and explain to that dear wife of yours that you're needed out of town for the next several days, perhaps an important medical conference or some such? I'll have Mrs. Hudson make up your old bedroom. And, Watson - one more important thing..." "Yes?" "Make sure to bring both your traveling medical kit back with you - and, your trusty service revolver, just in case! Let us hope they're not both needed!" The Devonshire Epicurean Society "Crème de la' crème, Watson - remember?" Holmes replied, "sotto voce." "That's how these little 'soirees' stay so secret!" We returned some of the others' curious smiles, as Msr. Dolcett led us by the crowd, and through a rear-facing hallway towards the kitchen area. The kitchen itself was brightly lit with electric bulbs, instead of the near-obsolete gas lamps. It was an extremely large area for a mere residential home, more resembling one of those in a posh hotel. From Jock's reproduced blueprints, both Holmes and I recognized the huge, walk-in cold storage lockers, fabricated from both solid oak and stainless steel, seemingly large enough to hold whole carcasses of beef. The sizeable food preparation tables stood in the room's center, each fitted with rather odd, yet vaguely-troubling accoutrements - quartets of leather straps or restraints, placed about the corners of each, four-by-four feet apart, and strange angled inclines, with a series of loops about them, at the heads of each. Hanging on the nearest wall were several rows of what appeared to be large, polished steel spears, or skewers of a sort, ranging in length from nine to twelve feet. I suddenly remembered what these were "meat-spits" for roasting whole animals over beds of hot coals! I began to perspire then, either at their other possible uses, or it might've been the considerable heat issuing from one of the three immense ovens in the opposite wall - just the way they were pictured on the plans - obviously in use, a dull, red-hot glow visible through the glass door window. At the same time, I was aware of a spicy, tantalizing aroma of - it must've been roasted meat! I shuddered inwardly at this, but somehow - at the same time - desperately wanted to view the oven's contents. Holmes, however, gently steered me away from there to face the man Dolcett, standing in the midst of the prep area, flanked by two other men attired in white chef's tunics and hats. "This, of course, is our main kitchen area - the summer kitchen outside is only used for preparing cold side dishes, this is where the real work gets done!" he beamed. "Allow me to introduce you to our Head and Assistant Head Chefs, the geniuses behind many of our finest recipes! Pleas say hello to Senor Francisco Ludovico of Barcelona, a graduate of Le Cordon Bleu," indicating a tall, smiling, olive-complected Spaniard with slender moustache, who bowed deeply towards us, "and, Herr Manfred von Gurgurant, late of the Hotel Berliner!" The other, a rather taciturn, sober German, merely nodded to us. "Between the two of them," Dolcett continued, "there's over forty years worth of combined culinary expertise, from the more common, day-to-day, to the rather... more 'exotic' specialties, which our guests have come to appreciate!" They all shared this as a secret joke, though I was fearfully beginning to catch on! The two chefs stepped forward to perfunctorily shake hands with both Holmes and I. Dolcett then led us over to a small alcove off of the main areas, while white-uniformed bus boys and other kitchen-staff bustled about with large mixing bowls and armloads of produce. It was here that most of my fears for the missing young ladies' communal fates began to be rapidly realized, for standing before us, was - a entirely-naked young girl of about seventeen or thereabouts, wearing only a bathing-bonnet over her dark hair, standing upright in a large washbasin full of - fresh milk! Attending to her was a rather pleasantly-plump woman in maidservant attire, gently sponging milk all over and running down the pretty young thing's fair, white skin. It was also apparent that her sex was shaved clean as well! Neither she nor the attending woman seemed at all perturbed by this display of open nudity - indeed, the comely lass seemed pleased at being spied upon in this manner, and smiled charmingly at us! Dolcett made the introductions. "This is Mrs. Clemstra, our Kitchen Supervisor, who's overseeing the cleaning and future preparation of some tender 'milk-fed veal' for one of our next dinners! Mrs. Clemstra, Patricia - please say hello to two of tonight's guests, Sir Joseph, and Dr. Worthing." "Pleased to meet you, Sirs," the older woman smiled at us as she briefly stood up from the stool she was sitting on, then quickly went back to bathing Patricia, who only glanced up at us coquettishly with large dark eyes, and said rather humbly, "It's an honor to meet you both, gentlemen." I tried not to betray my astonishment, while Holmes bowed in his most magisterial manner, took the young girl's hand, quickly kissed it, and - licked a little of the milk from it onto his lips, a bit lasciviously! "I'm sure the honor's all ours, Miss, and I'm already anticipating the next dinner!" "Mrs. Clemstra, as you can no doubt tell, enjoys her work here famously - isn't that correct, Madame?" The matronly lady glanced up again, this time with a thinly veiled longing in her eyes, as she gently yet firmly applied the milk-sodden sponge to Patricia's privates, who then let out with a bit of a girlish giggle. Both she and the man chuckled at this. "Now, I do believe there's still time, if you'd so choose, Sir Joseph, Dr. Worthing," Dolcett went on, "to have a look at the rest of our 'livestock' on hand, before we begin serving at eight o'clock! Would this please you?" He winked. Holmes, playing his part of the ex-judicial libertine to the hilt, winked back. "I thought you were never going to ask, Monsieur! 'Lead on, MacDuff'!"