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From: "Yotna El'toub" <yotna_eltoub@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Strange Case of the Missing Madonna [Yotna El'toub] Final Chapter.
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Date: Fri, 26 May 2006 19:10:01 -0400
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{ASSM}  The Strange Case of the Missing Madonna ~ A Holmes &
Hove adventure Final Chapter) [Yotna El'toub]
    (FF+,MC,NC,magic. Caution: blasphemous)

****************************************************************
WARNING: This story will contain situations and explicit language
of an adult nature and should be read only by those of a legal
age to do so. If you are a minor or object to stories of an adult
nature, LEAVE HERE IMMEDIATELY. Legal age local to the author is
18+ please abide to your own local laws.

Please note and understand the content codes for this story. The
characters portrayed in this story are just that, characters in
my story. Any similarities to real people are purely coincidental
and unintentional. The characters and situations portrayed are
pure fantasy; the author is keen to state that in reality adult
sexuality should remain only in the adult world.

Please do not allow or cause this story to fall in to the hands
of minors.
________________________________________________________________

***AUTHOR'S NOTE*** Due to the subject matter this Holmes and
Hove adventure will contain not only sex, but blasphemous
content. I have no desire to upset people or their deeply held
belief's, so if this is likely to upset you; stop reading *NOW*.
If you continue to read despite my warning my conscience is
clear, as *YOU* have made a free choice.
________________________________________________________________



Thomas was rudely wakened by a hefty thud bedside him. He opened
his eyes and stared for a long second at the sky. Where was he?
He looked in the direction of the noise; sprawled out alongside
him was a man.

Slowly the recollection and the pain returned, the man laying
beside him, that was his assailant. Thomas went and collected his
staff before flipping the unconscious man on his back. He was
amazed by the amount of injury he had caused with a simple staff.
It was clear that the demon was dead.

"Aye, see devil, even an old man can smite thee with god's help!"

Just to the right of the demon lay a small pocket book, Thomas
retrieved it and flicked through the pages. The strange symbols
made no sense at all, clearly this had been written in the
language of hell itself. Thomas slid the book into his pocket
for safe keeping. Then he knelt beside his fallen foe and
uttered a short prayer.

"Lord, forgive this beast, be it ever so fell & foul. Please
grant its soul peace. Amen."

Thomas stood and walked without hesitation to the manse and
entered. The hallway and ground floor were unnaturally quiet,
even so, Thomas cautiously searched the area. Eventually his
quest brought him to the twin icons. Thomas gazed at the
depravity depicted with true hatred. He picked up the gloves.

His decision was made. He would not suffer these images to exist.
He smashed the frames on the desk and tore the canvas from them.
He shredded the despicable depictions with ease. He inadvisably
ignored the dust that flew up around him. Coughing through the
haze of particles, Thomas began to laugh manically. The drugs
began to take their effect.

He stopped giggling when something flickered past him, just out
of the arc of his vision. He swung around quickly, facing into
the room. He watched incredulously as garishly hued Imps formed
in the walls -and then dashed out into the room as if to taunt
him.

His confused mind turned to Mary. He must not let the spawn of
hell find her. Upstairs, she must be upstairs - Thomas ran out of
The Reverend's study followed by a horde of bickering,
argumentative imps. He upped his pace and for a man of his years,
flew up the vicarage's stairs.


            -------------------------


Dashwood struggled to pull on his gloves, never once taking his
eyes from Holmes. "I know you from somewhere! You have been
trailing me, Dashwood paused, "You were at the George and
Vulture. So you know something of my history."

"Yes, and I am not impressed - it seems you are as foolish as
your forebears," Holmes sneered, before slapping Dashwood hard
around the face, "Sir, you are a cad. I challenge you!"

Just as Holmes had calculated, this provoked Dashwood into a
rage. Impatiently he cast aside his gloves and launched himself
at Ned. Brighton grasped the gloves and threw them with all his
force far through the window.

By the time he swivelled back - a life and death struggle was
going on. Dashwood repeatedly smashed Holmes' head into the
skirting board. As Brighton dashed to his friend's aid, he was
struck by the incorrigible contrast between the carnal wrestling
on the bed and Holmes' desperate defence.

Before Hove could intercede, Ned struck back. He had managed
to force his legs under Dashwood. With a mighty roar he
straightened them into Albert's unprotected stomach. The
surprised attacker was launched across the room. For a brief
instant, the carnality on the bed was stilled by Dashwood's
unexpected arrival in the very midst of it. Then he disappeared
in a sea of curves and legs, the giggles raising a tone in their
intensity.

"Get off me you whores, I have no interest - our enemies are
upon us!" Screamed Dashwood.

Unfortunately for Dashwood, Thomas had arrived on the landing. He
was just in time to hear the agonised outburst. He headed
directly toward the third bedroom on the left of him. What he saw
there pushed him over the edge of sanity.

To his hallucinating eyes, he saw Satan himself cavorting with
his
lustful demoness's. Then one demoness turned to face him and he
realised his error; this was no child of hell. No, it was an
angel with Mary's face - and Satan was trying to ravish her!

With a terrible roar, Thomas launched himself bodily into the
tangled throng. Naked demoness's reared away from him, leaving
his way clear for an assault on Satan himself. To his eternal
dismay the Lord of darkness was too cunning for him. The Devil
grasped the angel and used her to shield himself. Then Satan
bellowed his rage.

"Get this madman away from me! What is wrong with him? His eyes!
- Save me."

Thomas gently manoeuvred the angel to one side, before targeting
his hand accurately - his aim was true. Despite the burning pain
he felt, Thomas gripped hard and closed his fist securely. He,
Thomas Green, had the Devil's own distended genitals trapped in
his tight hand.

Satan screamed, clearly trying to summon his foul kind. In
immediate response, a wise Thomas twisted his wrist as hard as he
could. The Devil released the angel and attempted to flee. Even
hampered as he was, by having an irate farmer attached to his
most sensitive nether parts, he managed to escape the bed. Slowly
the Lord of pain crawled to the door.

Dashwood painfully dragged himself and Thomas out onto the
landing. Albert rained blows down onto the old man's head and
shoulders, but the stubborn fool clung on grimly. The forced
strangulation of Dashwood's testicles was intense, and finally it
crushed them to a pulp. Albert winced and felt his grip on
reality fail, the world started to darken.

Holmes recovered from the stupefying events first and dashed out
to try and prevent Thomas from emasculating his shrieking foe.
Ned
caught up with the oddly coupled pairing and attempted to calm
Thomas.

"Thomas, I do not think our friend will escape. You may let go of
him now."

"I have the devil by the tail Mr Holmes, you and Hove just keep
the imps away from my angel."

"Thomas, calm now they are just girl's - they will not harm
Mary."

"No, not the demoness's, fool! The imps that came out of the
walls when I destroyed the foul images." Thomas groaned.

Holmes looked more closely at Thomas, his hair and face was
coated in fine dust.

All became clear to him in an instant.

"When you destroyed the images you inhaled a poison Thomas. The
things you see are not real."

"Not real? Then why does he struggle so." Thomas asked, before
tugging violently on his hand hold.

Dashwood barely reacted, for he was part-way into a swoon.

"Just let him go, you have trapped the Devil well Thomas. Hove
and I will take care of him now. You should attend to the angel."

"My Mary, the angel - yes. You are right Mr Holmes."

At once, Thomas stood and walked calmly to the bedroom. He left
Dashwood comatose and a mere shadow of the man he once had been.
Hove joined Holmes and stared down at Albert Dashwood, whose
form twitched slightly at their feet.

"Well, I think he is not too much of a threat, old chap. Nasty
thing that!"

"True, remember this event well Brighton. Noxious substances have
a habit of catching up with those who abuse them." Ned sighed,
and lit his pipe, "A salutary lesson for us all."

"Indeed, most wise." Coughed Brighton.

Hove heard a call from below.

"Mr Holmes, Mr Hove I'm back, with the police!"

"Up here Reverend!" Hove replied.

"Hove?" Asked Holmes.

"Yes, old bean."

"Perhaps you could dress, and encourage the ladies to do
likewise. Before our guests arrive?"

"Well I will be jiggered, I totally forgot." Laughed Hove.


            -------------------------


"It would seem that although Mr Holmes and Mr Hove have cleared
up the mystery about the icon - with some notable, erm, handiwork
from Mr Green - we are still left with a number of conundrums."
Said the Reverend Pearson, as he peered over his newly polished
desk.

"I would agree. We are less than clear about several things."
Holmes frowned.

"Well to me it is all as plain as day," said the portly police
Sergeant, "We have stopped a nasty conspiracy to over throw the
throne. The culprits are either dead, captured or being sought
at this very moment. We should be very pleased!"

"The defilers should rot in hell!" Added Thomas, who was still a
little twitchy.

Mary closed her right hand around his, part for his comfort and
part for hers.

"Well if not hell, Oxford Gaol should suffice. Mind you I would
not be surprised to see them all swing. Treason against the
crown, the gallows may be busy." The Sergeant whistled between
his teeth.

"I am sure your men will round up the other six conspirators
quickly Ambleforce, but what of the instigator? What do we know
of the real force behind this the Illuminati?" Asked Holmes.

"Well they are foreign sir, which is outside my jurisdiction. But
if they step foot in England!" Ambleforce's chops waggled with
threat.

"But we have no idea who they are, how are we to know if they are
here, or indeed anywhere else?" Asked Hove.

"Precisely, excellent question." Holmes nodded.

"This might help, but it is written in the Devil's own tongue."
Thomas held up the pocketbook, "I took this from the dead demon
outside."

Holmes took the notebook and glanced through it with interest. He
then passed it to Sergeant Ambleforce. "That may hold some clues,
if you get some code breakers on to it."

"Looks like a lunatics work to me. No there is nothing worth
wasting police time on here." Ambleforce pronounced, stroking his
mutton chop sideburns, "Keep it as a memento if you wish sir."

"I should like Mr Holmes to have it Sergeant. I am sure he will
investigate it thoroughly." Smiled Thomas.

Ambleforce harrumphed his annoyance and handed the pocket book
back to Holmes. "I will not detain you gentlemen any longer. I
must away - urgent 'real' police business. I am as always your
humble servant."

"Goodbye Sergeant, and thank you!" Called the Reverend to the
closing door.

"Now to more mundane things, gentlemen," William spoke softly,
"what are we to do with the girl's?"

"Send them home I suggest." Said Holmes.

"Yes, but how do we explain the 'events' to their parents?"

"Well I doubt if they will say too much themselves, under the
circumstances." Advised Brighton.

"Hove has a point. Just apologise for delaying them with extra
church duties."

"All night?" Said William, his mouth agape.

"Well they did know it was a special service?" Asked Holmes.

"Hmm, perhaps..." William mulled over the suggestion.

"Or you could explain the real circumstances." Suggested Hove,
helpfully.

"Ah no, I think on this occasion Mr Holmes may have a better
solution. But what of Clarice?"

"What of her," asked Hove, " send her home as well."

"Clarice was a ward of the Parish, she has no home," William
sighed, "but under the circumstances, I can not recommend she
stays here."

"I have some friends in Oxford, I am sure the ladies I am
thinking of would happily house her. They are both of excellent
character - I will vouch for them personally." Suggested Holmes.

"Excellent, but I have concerns about her travelling to Oxford
alone after her recent ordeal."

"Then worry no more Reverend, I shall use it as an excuse to
visit
my old friends, Ruby and Constance. I will make a fine break
after
this unseemly affair." Holmes smiled wistfully.

"As long as it is not too much of a chore for you, I will
accept."
William nodded.

"It will be a pleasure, a pure pleasure." Holmes replied.

"Well then all that remains is for me to thank you, and hand over
the church's payment - together with our eternal gratitude to
your good self and Mr Hove."

"Most gratifying." Holmes nodded.

The meeting disbanded with polite nods. As Holmes closed the door
behind himself and Brighton, he overheard one last comment.

"Reverend Pearson, I am afraid Mary will not be staying with you
either. Not due to any fault on your part. But the situation
makes it improper," Thomas paused, " In any case we are to start
a family, so my beloved wife will be needed at the Green farm."

The oak door cut off William's reply.

"Well then Holmes, back to Oxford for us then!" Ventured
Brighton.

"More accurately for me. I need you to return to London, Hove.
Take this Pocketbook to Oliver, see if the Society can break the
code."

"Quite so, I will see you in a couple of days then?" Brighton
asked.

"It could be a little longer. I want to make sure Clarice is well
bedded in before I take my leave." Holmes said, trying not to
smile.

"Of course, abso-bally-lutely, after this dashed mess. I
quite understand, old boy."

Holmes lit his pipe. As he puffed away merrily waiting for
Clarice to appear, he wondered. Did Hove actually understand? He
suppressed a light chuckle.


            -------------------------


"Holmes! I thought you had become lost, old bean. Capital that
you should arrive now. I have just this very morning received a
letter back from Dr Thomas."

"Excellent news Hove, but may I get in the door first?" Joked
Ned.

"Indubitably. Sorry old man!" Chirped Brighton.

Half an hour later Holmes sat at his desk examining both the
letter and the returned notebook. "Well they have cracked the
code, but it is up to the two of us to effect the translation,
Hove - we may as well start." Ned reached in his pocket and
found his churchwarden.

"Before we do Ned, I am dying to know, how did Clarice settle
in?"

"Ah, yes the delightful Clarice, very well bedded I would say
Brighton. Ruby and Constance send their regards."

"Bedded?" Hove smiled, "I believe you mean bedded in, it is
unlike you to confuse your words Holmes." Hove laughed.

"If you say so Brighton, if you say so." Nodded Holmes, "The
translation, hmm..." He puffed away impatiently.

"Of course." Hove sat besides his mentor.

The hours passed and many names were deciphered along with
their level and importance in the ranks of the Illuminati.
Holmes was like a man possessed, or rather a man desperate to
find something.

"Shall we break for lunch Ned, I am quite famished, I am sure
you are too?"

"We don't stop until I have found him, he must be here..."
Holmes muttered.

"Who old chap, who are we searching for?" Asked Brighton
perplexed.

"We will see, my friend we will see."

Their heads went down once more. Eventually Holmes sat back
and sighed.

"Do you realise what you have just spelt, one letter at a
time?" He asked.

"Ned, I am quite unsure who I am anymore, let alone what I
spelt."

"Read it for yourself Hove, I won't spoil the surprise."

Brighton read out the words with growing enthusiasm.

"Membre Sancti Primus: Alphonso Burgabiter - Well, I will be
jiggered!"


            -------------------------


The End.

Coming soon... 'An unfortunate event at Deddington Manor'
A Holmes and Hove mystery.

____________________________________________________________


Foot Notes (C) Yotna El'toub May 2006
________________________________________________________________

I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed
writing it.  As always, feedback is appreciated, since it is my
only payment for my work.

Please address comments to yotna_eltoub@hotmail.com

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published, posted or archived on any newsgroup, website, or
server, other than ASSM and ASSTR, without the EXPRESS PERMISSION
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provided the warnings and copyright information is attached in
full.

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