December 1: "Fantasy" (from Domina Temporis)


Holmes, Lestrade and I were poring over the floorplan of a nearby bank in anticipation of the bank robbery we would be preventing a few hours later that night. It was a cold and wet evening, that December the twenty-third, and Lestrade and I (at least) would have much preferred to be in our homes by a warm fire with warm beds to look forward to than in Lestrade's cramped office, with higher chances of injury in a scuffle with bank robbers than of getting a decent amount of sleep. I cannot speak for Holmes.

Lestrade passed a weary hand over his eyes. "If only the criminal classes would spend a few days around Christmas at some more honest trade."

I nodded. "And we could do without the diseases, too."

"Another pneumonia outbreak?" he asked.

I nodded. I had not had a proper night's sleep in two weeks, between my cases and Holmes'. "In fact," I added, "I would not object to all illnesses vanishing and forcing me into an early retirement."

"Aye," said Lestrade, "and the criminals too. I'm sure I'd find something to do with myself, were there no crime to prevent or punish."

Constable Hopkins knocked on the door frame. "You needed me, Inspector?"

Lestrade nodded, and gestured for him to come in. "Apologies for the short notice; we only learned of the Harrison gang's plans for tonight half an hour ago. But tell me, Hopkins, what would you do if all of the criminals tomorrow decided to retire or turn to honest work?"

The constable frowned for a moment. "Well, I've always wanted to be a police inspector, but when I was very young, I thought of being a sailor and seeing the world. Perhaps it would be a deal safer, without any crime."

"Quite so," I said. "And you, Lestrade? How would you apply yourself?"

The Inspector shrugged. "I'd spend a deal more time with my children, to start, and beyond that…well, perhaps I'd design buildings or bridges or some such thing. I must confess I'm fascinated by architecture and engineering. And you, Watson?"

"Well, if both diseases and criminals were out of the picture, I suppose I would spend a good deal more time writing. What I would write, I'm not certain, but write I would."

I glanced to Holmes, who fixed me with an impatient frown.

"Come now, gentlemen," he said, gesturing to the diagrams on Lestrade's desk. "We have work to do. There is no use indulging in such fantasy."

Lestrade shrugged. "Well, there is a new century to begin soon. Who's to say that it won't bring an end to crime and disease?"

Holmes gave a sharp breath through his nostrils, and shook his head. He began pacing the length of the small office. "Nonsense, Inspector. I'm afraid I cannot share in your optimism. Crime and disease have been with our species as far back as we have record, and we would first need to find some solution to poverty before we could have any hope of solving society's other maladies. No, no, I'm afraid the best we can do is treat the symptoms in these cases, caring for the poor and the ill, bringing criminals to justice…" He trailed off, staring out the window.

"Well," said Lestrade, "just pretending for a moment that it were possible, what would you do suppose you would do with yourself?"

Holmes thought for a moment, then replied, "I think I would move to the countryside…and keep bees."