Chapter 1
Watson:
Despite not being on a case, Holmes had woken in a remarkably good mood, waking me by playing a sprightly piece on his violin, singing as he dressed, joking with me over breakfast. However, his mood suddenly took a turn for the worse with the arrival of the morning post. I did not ask, but it was obvious that a letter bearing an American post mark was the cause of his distress. For the rest of the day, he brooded, pacing about the room, refusing luncheon, and all the while reading and rereading that letter.
He and I had been rooming together for about three years at this point, and I was rather used to his mood swings, but it was still somewhat surprising when he suddenly sat down in front of me at the dinner table and calmly asked me to pass the potatoes as if nothing had happened. But as I said I was used to him, and so did so without giving him more than a glance as I was rather absorbed in an article from one of the evening papers. "You've made up your mind about whatever it was then?" I inquired, expecting the answer he would give to be that he had a new case. However, the answer I got was the last thing I expected.
"It was a family matter. Have you ever been to the states, Watson?"
I looked up, completely startled, "No, I haven't, Holmes but I wasn't aware that you had family there?"
He gave me what seemed to be a rather sad smile. "No, I don't suppose you would, as I have never had occasion to mention them before. I shall be leaving tomorrow if I can secure the tickets." He hesitated. "Would you like to accompany me? I'll pay your passage of course. I …I would greatly appreciate it if you would come, and…I feel I may need your…assistance before this case is over." He looked down at his plate as he said this last, purposely avoiding my gaze.
"Of course, I will come, provided I won't be intruding."
"Watson, I assure you, you will be most welcome."
After that last statement, he refused to say anything more on the matter, but at least he seemed to have regained a measure of his lost good mood, and we spent a very pleasant evening, our conversation being interspersed with Holmes's violin solos. However, America, and all topics related to it were strictly avoided.
Holmes:
Even on such short notice, one stateroom would not have been difficult to obtain. The difficulty was that I needed tickets for two and preferably close together. However, it was worth the extra trouble to know that my friend would be by my side, and so the next afternoon, after a good deal of bartering and the calling in of several favors, Watson and I found ourselves on a train to Portsmouth in order to catch an evening ship to the states.
I could feel his eyes on me; I knew he had to be dying of curiosity, yet I honestly didn't know where to start, and I wasn't exactly sure I wanted to discuss it at all, though I knew he was going to learn all about it eventually. I have never felt comfortable talking about my past – or even thinking about it for that matter, mostly because I know that it will bring up emotions that I would prefer to keep buried. So rather than have it all out and get it over with, I remained silent and buried myself in my newspaper for the duration of the ride, knowing that Watson was to much of a gentleman to question me on a topic he knew I didn't want to discuss.
It was past eight o'clock when we reached to ship and we had less than an hour before its departure. Immediately upon boarding, I went to inspect the two staterooms that would be our homes until we reached the States. Finding them quite satisfactory, though possibly not quite worth what I had been forced to pay for them, I left Watson in his room to unpack, and after unpacking a few necessities for myself, settled down on my bed to smoke and think over this terribly personal case that I was allowing myself to be dragged away from London to solve.
