Phase 1 – 1894

"Watson?"

"Yes Holmes?"

"Do you at present enjoy your work?"

"Well, I…"

"…And are you very attached to your Kensington practice and your home there?"

"Not especially. It can get lonely at times, especially as it reminds me so much of – of Mary…and…"

"My dear fellow I had no intention of…come, come – this isn't the Watson I know!"

"I am sorry…I'm fine Holmes, really."

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure thank you. Good heavens…it's time I was on my way. I said to Florence (my housekeeper) that I'd be back by nine – "

"I think you should sell."

"I…I'm sorry?"

"Sell your house and come back here. That's what I think you should do."

"But why…how?"

"You belong in Baker Street, Watson. We've shared rooms for many years. I can't have my dearest friend, my trusty biographer and man of action sitting up, sad and alone, in a rambling old place across town."

"But Holmes! Think practically – how could I continue my work whilst living here?"

"Tut tut Watson, a mere trifle! Sell your practice and be done with it! For my peace of mind if not for anything else!"

"Holmes…you don't know what you're asking. A wound pension is not enough for a self-respecting man to live off, and you know I could never ask you for money."

"Then live off the sale of your practice and we can split the fees from our cases! I refuse to let such trifling details become obstacles. I have it all worked out. Besides…I really am lost without my Boswell. I know that first-hand now."

"You are infuriatingly persuasive, Holmes."

"I won't let the matter drop until you acquiesce to my request."

"Don't I know it!"

Phase 2 – 1894

My Dear Holmes,

You will be happy to know that I have found a buyer for my practice. He is a young man of the name Verner – rather obsessive, analytical and pedantic, yet by all accounts an excellent doctor. I was reminded somewhat of you by his tall, lean figure, his keen expression and his quick yet very delicate fingers. In fact I am sure that you and he would get along, were you to meet. He seems to be very well off, which is somewhat at odds with his age, position in life and fairly plain appearance. But what other explanation is there for the fact that he handed over the highest price I named without batting an eyelid? In fact he seemed almost eager to do so! He wished to move in as soon as possible, and as you are aware I was never one to hesitate once a decision is made. Therefore if it is convenient for you I shall move my things round to Baker Street tomorrow, and will doubtless spend a sleepless night meanwhile in anticipation!

Your friend,

John Watson.

Telegram in reply: By all means move in tomorrow – the sooner the better! SH.

P.S. Many thanks indeed for assuring me a sleepless night also.

Phase 3 – 1898

"Why can't criminals be interesting? To me that is the one redeeming point of their conduct. I sometimes wonder if I should not let the more interesting ones off simply for the fun of seeing what they will attempt next, like a game of cat and mouse. I fear I made a mistake."

"A mistake?"

"Yes, in allowing our charming antagonist the late Professor Moriarty to fall to his death."

"Don't be ridiculous Holmes, it was you or him and you know it."

"Even so it is a pity."

"That reminds me. You said back in '91 that if you could bring about Moriarty's downfall you would draw your own career to a conclusion and follow a more conventional path in life. You said you wished to pursue the problems that Nature offers, if I remember correctly."

"Indeed I planned to, and were it not for a small financial matter that occurred some months after my return to Baker Street, I would have done so."

"I see – well that's a pity for you…"

"Not a bit of it, my dear fellow! On the contrary, nobody loses out: You have many more cases to add to your collection, whilst I have the satisfaction of having helped two people in need!"

"Indeed? I wish you would tell me more!"

"A young relative of mine needed help establishing his career. I recommended him a practice and found him the money to buy it."

"He is a medical man then?"

"Indeed."

"But providing money for a practice would not deplete a man's wallet to such an extent."

"Ah but this was a special case you see, for the practice I recommended to him was being sold by a friend of mine who needed the money. Surely, Watson, I have told you enough now to enable you to apply my methods!"

"I confess I fail to see why I should be able to…oh."

"Oh?"

"Ohhh!"

"Hmm?"

"Holmes…? When was this? Which practice and what was the doctor's name?"

"'94…Kensington…Robert Verner."

"I should have known…I should have guessed! I knew he reminded me of you – I wrote to you at the time and said so!"

"I still have the letter here in my scrap book: "I was reminded somewhat of you by his tall, lean figure, his keen expression and his quick yet very delicate fingers. In fact I am sure that you and he would get along, were you to meet." Capital observations, Watson! But you failed, as usual, to reason from what you saw! Perhaps it is as well though, for I know that you in your kindness would have found it difficult to accept the offer had you known who was behind it."

"Heavens above! My dear Holmes, how can I ever repay you for everything?"

"I would have thought you'd know my ways by now, Watson. I don't need you to repay me. I don't want you to repay me! Seeing you back in your old chair, hearing your pen scratching as you chronicle our past cases, and most of all having you with me on our current ones…That is the only repayment I ever desired or expected."

THE END