Of all the stories that I, Dr. John Watson MD, have recorded of the amazing Sherlock Holmes, the one that I am about to relate to you is perhaps the most strange. Those of you who are expecting a case similar to the one of The Hound of the Baskervilles, you will be disappointed for this case is not strange in the typical sense of the term; this case is strange for the unique response and consequences that followed it for my esteemed colleague.
It was a damp, foggy night in mid-August, and Sherlock Holmes and I had agreed to spend this evening at home. He was busy with some chemistry experiment or other, and I was putting the finishing touches on my latest story to go out for publication in the morning when Mrs. Hudson knocked upon our door. "Excuse me, sirs," she began apprehensively, "but there is a lady who wishes to speak with you, Mr. Holmes; she says it is most urgent."
"Well then let us not leave her waiting a moment longer! Show her in, Mrs. Hudson. Watson," he called to me across the room, "I should like it very much if you would lend your ears to our lady's story; I always find results come faster when two brains work on the same problem."
"I should be honored to be of any assistance," I replied, laying down my pen and turning to face him.
Less than a moment later, Mrs. Hudson reentered the room, closely followed by a woman in a clearly worn out dress and an even more worn out shawl. In one hand she held a small bag and in the other was clasped a hand belonging to a small girl dressed in similarly worn clothing. "Mr. Holmes?" the woman asked hesitantly once Mrs. Hudson had left the room.
"I am Mr. Holmes," he said, rising from his chair by the window, "and that is my friend and colleague Dr. Watson. Anything you would say to me may be said with the same confidence in front of him. Now, what can I do for you Ms.…?"
"Moran: my name is Mrs. Jennifer Moran, and this is my daughter Kaelyn." The child smiled and nodded to each of us politely.
"A pleasure, Mrs. Moran: what can I do for you?"
"Mr. Holmes…I-I didn't know who else to go to with my information. The police turned me away; they said it was of no importance, but I am convinced that it means something."
"Of what nature is this information?" Holmes asked, and I could tell he did not seem interested in the case at all.
"I believe that I have information concerning a man named Professor Moriarty," she said, lowering her voice.
Holmes's attitude changed in a matter of seconds. At her words, he sat up on the edge of his seat, and his eyes took on the brightened tone of adventure. "Please sit down, Mrs. Moran." She slowly sank into the nearest armchair and pulled her daughter up onto her lap. "Now, please tell me everything you know about Moriarty."
"It all began about a month ago. My husband gave up his job in the army, and we began to struggle with money. My husband, he hated to see us suffer, especially Kaelyn, and so he went every day to look for some type of work. Well, one day, he came home very late, this would have been about three weeks ago, and he just seemed…different."
"Different how?" Holmes asked, sitting back in his chair and placing his long fingertips together.
"He was so quiet…he had always told me everything, but that day, he just refused to say anything other than, 'I've found a solution.'"
By this point, little Kaelyn had slid off her mother's lap and had wandered over to the table where my latest story sat. During her mother's story, she slowly began flipping through the pages almost as if she were…
"Did your husband continue his strange behavior?" Holmes asked.
"Yes, and it only got worse as the days wore on. By the end of the week, he stopped coming home altogether; then the threats started coming."
"What kind of threats?"
"I won't sugar coat it Mr. Holmes; we were receiving death threats. I have found one each day with my mail, but the letters aren't being mailed; there is never a postmark, so someone has been sticking them in with the rest of my mail."
"Are the threats against just you, or do they involve your child as well?"
"It varies day to day. Sometimes they just involve me, but a couple of them have involved Kaelyn."
"How does all of this connect with Moriarty?" Holmes asked with a hint of impatience in his voice.
"Just before my husband stopped coming home, I had confronted him about where the money was coming from. He slapped me across the face and told me that I should be grateful; that Professor Moriarty didn't just give positions to anyone, and that I should watch my tongue if I valued Kaelyn's or my own life. When the threats started, all I had to do was connect the dots. Is there anything you can do for my daughter and me, Mr. Holmes?"
"Forgive me, Mrs. Moran, but it seems highly unlikely that Moriarty would employ a good man no matter how desperate he was. Are you sure you are telling me everything?"
"I have told you all I know!" Mrs. Moran cried, wringing her hands.
"I haven't, Mommy," came a small voice from behind me. We all turned to see Kaelyn staring fixedly at Holmes with a look of determination. "There's something I know that you don't about him."
There was something about the way she said 'him' that sent warning signals to both Holmes and myself; it was the tone often heard when a woman spoke of a man she hated. "Tell me what it is you know, my dear," Holmes said gently, moving to kneel in front of her. "Did he ever say anything to you that he wouldn't tell your mother?"
"No, he never really spoke to me at all," Kaelyn said with a tone much stronger than her age. "He hates me, Mr. Holmes."
"Kaelyn, that can't be true. Your daddy loves you," Mrs. Moran said soothingly.
"No he doesn't, Mommy. Whenever you would go out for food and he would be home, he would attack me. He gave me these," she said and pulled up the thin sleeves of her dress to reveal horrible bruises and cuts on both of her thin arms. "He said if I told he'd make Mommy go away forever," she told Holmes.
"Don't worry, my dear; I'm not going to let him do anything of the sort. Thank you for telling me what you know; you're a very brave girl." He stood up and walked over to whisper in my ear. "Take care of her injuries, will you old fellow? Some of them look infected."
"Of course Holmes," I said and went over to the child. "Hello Kaelyn, my name is Dr. Watson."
"I know who you are," she said with a smile. "You're the man who writes all the great stories. Is this the next one?" she asked pointing to the manuscript on my desk that she had been reading a few minutes before.
"Why yes it is," I replied astonished.
"Good: I really like those stories."
I smiled and leaned down to look her in her eyes which I now notes were a beautiful shade of light purple. "Kaelyn, will you come with me please? I want to make sure the cuts on your arms are healing alright."
"Ok," she said and accompanied me into my room, leaving Holmes and her mother to speak freely.
"You have quite an amazing daughter, Mrs. Moran. There are very few grown women that would have the courage to do what she has done. How old is she?"
"She will be five this October," Mrs. Moran replied, still shocked at her daughter's confession. "I don't understand why he would do that to her," she cried, wringing her hands.
"Hmmm…it certainly is strange," Holmes replied. "Very well, Mrs. Moran: I accept your case. I never pass up an opportunity to crack another ring in Moriarty's game. As for your daughter's protection, I suggest you keep her at home as much as possible and create a hiding place for her if anything should go wrong. Stock it with food as well as everything else she may need to survive for multiple days. I also recommend not leaving her alone at any point from now on."
"Thank you, Mr. Holmes! It calms my mind knowing that someone will help us. I must tell you, sir, she is quite an admirer of yours. She insists on reading the Strand every time another story is published and takes great delight in solving the mystery before the end. She is very bright…I only wish I could give her more."
"She is a strong girl; I am sure she will make her own way in this world."
At that moment, Kaelyn and I reentered the room, and she ran happily to her mother's side. "Are you sure you have told Mr. Holmes everything, Mommy? After all, even the slightest detail may be important when it comes to an investigation."
Mrs. Moran laughed and pulled her daughter close. "You see, I told you," she said to Holmes. "Yes, dear, I have told him everything, and he's going to help us."
Kaelyn clapped her hands with glee. "I finally get to see a story from the inside; this will be fascinating! Thank you, Mr. Holmes."
"You are very welcome, my dear," Holmes replied, smiling down at the young girl. "Please come and see me if you have anything new to tell me."
"We will, sir," Mrs. Moran said, smiling and taking her daughter again by the hand. "Come along, Kaelyn; we must be going now. Say good bye to Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson."
The small girl turned to the pair of us and nodded her head again. "Good bye Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson. Thank you for helping me with my arms, Dr. Watson."
"You are most welcome, my dear girl."
She smiled and waved as her mother gently pulled her from our rooms.
When they had gone, I turned to Holmes and saw a most peculiar expression on his face. "What is it, Holmes? Do you not trust her?"
"She certainly is keeping something from me; however, I do not doubt her motives in the slightest. It is clear that she loves her daughter, and that her safety is her first priority."
"Then what is it that is troubling you?"
"Her daughter…she is most perceptive for her age."
"Indeed she is," I replied earnestly. "Why, she told me that she has read every story I have ever published in the Strand: quite the amazing child."
Holmes merely nodded and returned his gaze to the window as he continued to smoke his pipe in thought.
Over a month went by with no further visits from Mrs. Moran, and I began to think that she and her little Kaelyn might finally be safe. Then, one day about a month after their visit to our rooms, Inspector Lestrade came calling.
"It's a pretty gruesome case, if I do say so myself, Mr. Holmes," he began. "Poor woman: so young and so beautiful she was. I would greatly appreciate it if you would come and take a look at the scene, Mr. Holmes; it's one of the best covered up cases of murder I've seen in years."
"Dr. Watson and I will be there within the hour, you have my word," Holmes said, rising and crossing to Lestrade.
True to our word, Holmes and I were walking through the doorway of the small house by the end of the hour. We found Lestrade along with several other policemen in the kitchen bending over the body of the victim. As we drew nearer, I recognized the beautiful young face of Mrs. Jennifer Moran.
"Dear God, Holmes!" I cried. "What have they done to her?" Mrs. Moran's body was covered in what appeared to be deep knife wounds yet none that would have been fatal on their own; she had been left to bleed to death.
"This is the traditional work of Moriarty's gang," Holmes said darkly. "She had to be made an example of for coming to me with information. I was afraid something like this would happen." He shook his head and sighed, and then he suddenly seized Lestrade by the arm and spoke in the tone I had come to associate with emergencies only. "Lestrade, I need every available policeman to help Dr. Watson and myself search this house immediately!"
"What is it you're looking for, Mr. Holmes?"
"This woman had a child; they were both in my rooms not more than a month ago. We must find out if the child is still here. Her name is Kaelyn."
I stared at Holmes with a look of surprise on my face. Of course, I was also worried about Kaelyn, but never had I seen Holmes so anxious in all our years of association. Within moments, we were all spread out around the house, searching for secret hiding places and calling the name of the child. I remained close to Holmes and watched as his brilliant mind faced the task before him. He quickly dismissed the bottom floor of the house as likely and hurried up the rickety stairs to where the bedrooms were. Now we traveled slowly from room to room searching for any evidence of someone being hidden. The last room we entered was Kaelyn's room. Here,
Holmes carefully examined every nook and cranny but still appeared to find nothing. However, he did not seem deterred and spoke from the center of the room quite calmly. "Kaelyn, dear, if you can hear me I need you to let me know where you are."
There was total silence for a moment, and then we heard a thumping noise coming from the wall behind the bed. Holmes sprang to the wall and instantly began feeling for a hinge. After a few seconds, Holmes cried out in triumph as he pressed on the wall so that the secret door sprang open. Sitting on the floor inside was little Kaelyn clinging tightly to a doll in one hand and a letter in the other. As soon as Holmes had opened the door enough, she came running out and straight into Holmes' arms. "Thank you for finding me, Mr. Holmes," she whispered.
"Not at all, my dear," he replied, holding her at arm's length to see if she was injured. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, but Mommy told me to give you this if you came to find me." She held out the letter for Homes who took it, read it, then handed it to me without a word, but a strange expression was present on his face as he did so. The letter read as follows:
My dear Mr. Holmes,
If you are reading this, then I have already paid the price for not keeping silence. I want to thank you for your advice on protecting Kaelyn, and I can only hope that you take this letter from my daughter's living hand and not her dead one. The man I once called my husband must never find dear Kaelyn or else she will die. Under usual circumstances, I know that Kaelyn would be sent to an orphanage, foster home, or boarding school; this must not happen! That man has unlimited resources and will find her no matter where she is sent. Therefore, the only chance she has at living is staying with someone who knows the truth. You and Dr. Watson are the only people I have told of my plight. As unconventional as this request may be, Mr. Holmes, I ask you to please take my daughter in and raise her as your own. I know that you took a liking to her the moment you saw her; she is quite the charming child, and being only five years old, she will quickly forget everything that is past including me. I beg of you, as my last request, to please take care of her and nurture the talent that I know you see in her. Someday, when you believe she is ready, tell her the truth of what has passed and let her know how much I love her. I pray that everything will work out for the better.
Yours sincerely,
Jennifer Moran
I finished reading and looked up to see Kaelyn tugging on Holmes' coat. "Mr. Holmes, where's Mommy?"
Holmes knelt down in front of the child and gently took her hand in his own. "Kaelyn, dear, you have been such a strong girl and none of this is your fault."
"They killed her, didn't they?" she whispered. "I heard something strange downstairs, and when she didn't come up afterwards, I knew that's what had happened. What's going to happen to me now, Mr. Holmes?"
After a quick exchanged glance between Holmes and me, he turned back to the child with that strange look back in his eyes. "Your mother has requested someone to take care of you from now on. How do you feel about coming to live with Dr. Watson and me at Baker Street?"
Kaelyn's eyes became as wide as dinner plates. "Y-you mean it?" she exclaimed happily.
"Indeed I do," Holmes smiled. "Do you accept this arrangement?"
"YES! Of course I do!" Kaelyn squealed. "This is so exciting; I get to see how you solve a case firsthand. I've always wanted to learn how to do it. But, do you promise that this is what's going to happen? He used to make promises all the time, but he never kept them."
Holmes put a hand on the girl's shoulder and locked his eyes onto hers with an intense gaze. "I promise you that you are going to live with me if that is what you want, and I never break a promise…ever. Do you trust me, Kaelyn?"
Kaelyn bit her lip and thought for a moment before looking back at Holmes and nodding. "I trust you," she said with a smile. "I wanna go home with you and Dr. Watson, please."
And so, all the arrangements were made; Kaelyn came to live with us at Baker Street, and no one was any the wiser as to where she came from. To those who asked, it was said that she was Holmes' niece, sent by Mycroft to learn how to be a detective. With all of his resources, Mycroft made this story quite a convincing one: paying an actress to support the story if asked, and forging a birth certificate for Kaelyn. The reader will remember how I previously said that Holmes had a strange connection with the girl from the very beginning; well, not even I realized just how deep that connection ran until several months into her living with us.
I had woken up in the middle of the night from the pain of my old war wound. When I entered the living room to get my bag from the cabinet, I noticed little Kaelyn sitting stone-still on the window seat, staring intently into the street. "Kaelyn? Sweetheart, what's wrong? Why aren't you asleep?"
"He went out again," she said, her eyes not moving from the street. "I heard him leave, even though I was supposed to be sleeping. I hate it when he goes out."
I moved and sat down beside her. "He only goes out so that he can solve his case. Remember, I mention it in a lot of my stories."
"I know," she said sighing. "It's just…I worry he won't come back."
"He always comes back," I said reassuringly. "No one in the entire world is smarter than Mr. Holmes."
Kaelyn merely nodded and continued to stare into the night. I realized that trying to get her back to bed until Holmes came back was nothing short of insane, so I simply joined her in her vigil. Finally, around six in the morning, we saw Holmes coming up the street. Kaelyn let out a sigh of relief and quickly stood up and turned to face the door. Within a minute, Holmes opened the door, and Kaelyn flew into him, wrapping her arms around his legs as she could reach no higher. "I'm so glad you're home!" she said.
Holmes stood paralyzed with shock at Kaelyn's greeting and looked quite awkward as he gently patted her head. "How did you know I was gone?"
"I heard you leave," she said as though it was obvious. "I heard someone outside my room and knew it had to be you. Uncle John's room is closer to this room than mine, so it couldn't have been him, and Mrs. Hudson's heels click when she walks by. That meant it had to be you going out again. I hate it when you leave at night."
"Sometimes I have to in order to solve a case," Holmes said as gently as possible.
"I know, but I still don't like it. It reminds me of when he used to go out. Going out at night did something to him; he was nice to me before he went out late. I don't want you to start hurting me too," she said with genuine fear in her eyes.
Holmes' eyes clouded over slightly, and he bent and scooped Kaelyn up in his arms and carried her back to her room. Setting her gently down in the bed, he tenderly tucked her in again, and then bent to whisper in her ear. "It wasn't the night that made your father hurt you; it was the man that tricked him into working for him."
Kaelyn shook her head. "He was never my daddy," she said pointedly. "Daddies are people that love and take care of you, and they don't ever hurt you or leave you. He was never like that with me…I've never had a daddy."
"I promise that I will never ever hurt you, Kaelyn," Holmes said, lightly stroking her hair.
Kaelyn nodded and then her eyes glinted with a sudden idea. She reached behind her and pulled out the small doll she had been holding when we found her. "You said you never break promises, right?" Holmes nodded, and Kaelyn pushed the doll into his hands. "Every time you leave the house, you have to take her with you and promise to bring her back. That way, you have to come back to keep your promise, and you can't leave me."
Grey eyes that had never known tears began to water as they looked down at the nearly asleep girl and her doll. Holmes gently squeezed Kaelyn's hand as he bent and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead. "I will carry her with me every case I take," he promised. "I will not leave you alone."
He rose from the bed and got to the door before Kaelyn spoke the words that would forever change his life: "I love you, Daddy."