The hollow sounds of horse and carriages echo down the street. People stream by, going on about their daily business, not sparing a thought for me. I guess I can’t blame them, seeing as there are plenty of shops on my street, but I thought I was sort of special, seeing as I was the only one who made and sold personalized perfumes and colognes. You see, I take orders on what smell to make, and then I make it. An interesting profession, I know, but there aren’t many jobs for an unmarried and non-courting girl of 16 in London. My parents had died when I was very young, not even 5 years old. I was then shipped off to a terrible orphanage with a terrible director. I escaped from there when I was 10 and have been living on the street ever since. 3 years ago, I met an interesting man. This man offered me a cash reward for reporting troubles and helping with his cases around my home street. I earned enough cash from this to open up my shop, and I also earned the title of a Baker Street Irregular.
One day, I saw a particular suspicious man that I recognized from the police station sketches. As soon as I saw him, I closed up shop and ran as possible to 221B Baker Street, where the man lived, who goes by the name Sherlock Holmes. Once I arrived, I knocked on the door.
“Mrs. Hudson! Mrs. Hudson are you in there?!” I called.
“Gracious child, what’s the matter?” Mrs. Hudson asked as she opened the door. Once she saw me, her eyes widened in recognition. “Darcy? What’s going on? Is it just you?”
“Yes, Mrs. Hudson. It’s just me. I would like to talk to Mr. Holmes. Is that possible?” I inquired hopefully.
“Sorry, dear. Mr. Holmes is off on a case this week.” Mrs. Hudson answered, sympathetically.
“Doctor Watson then?” I pressed.
“He went with Mr. Holmes. Whatever is the matter dear? Is it anything I can help you with?”
“I just saw one of the men that the police have drawings of.” Words came tumbling out of my mouth.
“Where?” Mrs. Hudson seemed taken aback.
“In the police station.”
“No, I meant where did you see the man?”
“One street over, just outside of my shop.”
“Well, seeing as how both Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson are incapacitated are the present moment, you’re going to have to take this matter to the police.” Mrs. Hudson then gave me one last apologetic look and shut the door. Sighing, I turned around and walked back to my store.