Disclaimer: Don't own (however much I would like to)
In many, if not all, of the stories describing my friend Mr Sherlock Holmes, i have endeavoured select only those in which his unique qualities of deduction and reasoning appear the most frequent, however in doing so i have put forward the idea that he is little more then a cold calculating machine, in which no emotion is present. By retelling the sequence of events that, according to my notes, took place on the 11th Nov '87, i hope to dispel this false image from the mind of the public and show a part of Holmes character that was until now, unheard of.
It started out as a perfectly normal November night, i had ventured to Bakers street in hope of catching my good friend before he retired for bed, it had been a hard days work at the practice and i wished nothing more then to collapse into my old armchair by the fire and perhaps share a friendly converse with Holmes. On entering however, I instantly gauged that this would not be the case, Holmes was pacing around the room in an excitement that could only mean he was hot on a scent. Seating myself in the armchair I waited patiently for him to end his train of thoughts. 'Watson!' he cried at last ringing my hand in his, before placing himself in the chair opposite and staring at me with his penetrating gray eyes. "The most brilliant of things has occurred today"
"O really what would that be?" I asked in a way that I hoped would not sound to patronising.
"Moriarty, my dear fellow, Moriarty that's what" he replied "It would seem that he is right now planning the most terrible of things imaginable".
"You say that like its good thing!" said I.
"Not merely good Watson this is sensational! Finally after all my years of trying to pull the net around the fiend, I will have him in my grasp! Tonight he will meet with an associate to discuss his plans, and I plan to be there by all means"
"But surely he will not discuss matters like that in an open place where anyone could hear him?"
"On the contrary my dear Watson, that's exactly what he plans to do, and what better way of doing it? For no one will expect a thing" and with that he sprang from his chair and rushed to the door like an impatient child. "I trust i will not be back till late, do not wait up" and after putting on his hat and coat he left without another word. Surely he did not wish to go on his own? With so dangerous a man as Moriarty on the prowl? Subsequent to a few seconds of thought, I came to the conclusion that I too should go to, just encase he needed me. Pocketing my old service revolver and pulling on my coat, I hastened to follow him.
Stepping out into the bitter chill of the night I perceived that luckily he would not be taking a cab, as his thin silhouette was just visible passing under a gas lamp at the far end of the street, endeavouring to follow it, I made sure I keep my distance and keep all the time to the shadows. He walked for around 10 minutes, never noticing his silent pursuer, and at last came to a stop by a park, where children usually played whilst their parents picnicked. For a moment he searched around in circles, then, seeming content he managed to cram himself in between two rows of bushes, for where he had a commanding view of an open spot of grass and was practically invisible himself. I managed to creep behind a clump of trees opposite without him noticing me, and there I sat for many an hour. I was just thinking of leaving when the church bell struck 12 midnight, fog had eclipsed my view of the slightly spectral scene and I was thinking that maybe Holmes had left long before without my noticing due to the fog. Just as I gave a sigh of impatience something happened that made me freeze with fear. The cold barrel of a gun had been placed against the back of my head, and a voice so evil as to make my blood run cold spoke out from behind me. "Dr Watson I believe?" the unknown man pulled me up to my feet and, without me ever seeing his face pushed me into the clearing. "The games up Holmes!" he cried out into the night. "It would appear I have found your friend the Doctor, which must mean that you too are around! Come out or I'll shot the fellow where he stands!" after a few moments the thin figure of Holmes appeared from the bushes, disappointment etched all over his pale completion. I tried not to look at him, after all I had compromised his entire plan, and ruined his every hope of capturing Moriarty.
So? Please review and say what you thought, also please do my imagination the courtesy of saying what you would like to happen next, it will help a lot! Thanks 4 reading.