12

Author's note: I have been pulled into another story. I hope this will find readers. I loved writing Fevers. Please let me know what you think. It inspires me to keep going. This story is set 6 months after Fevers and Watson is married, but it can be read as a stand alone. And to those who read Fevers, you know that I am truly Professor Moriarty.

Tiny McGinty

Chapter 1

Holmes was laying on the floor spread eagle when Mrs. Hudson walked in. She couldn't stifle a shriek at the sight. It wasn't the first time she'd found him passed out, but there seemed to be no way for a woman of her delicate temperament to deal constantly with the constant and, at times, unsavory surprises she encountered whenever she opened his door.

She gathered her wits as best she could. Holmes could smell fear. She shook her head and strode past the prone detective, putting the tea service down on the dusty, cluttered table. She closed her eyes again and waited. He still hadn't stirred. She thought about shaking him, but she remembered times when startling him had not gone well. She reached over and picked up the fireplace poker. She maneuvered herself so that she was close to the door in case there was need for escape.

She took the poker and pushed at his side. Nothing. It occurred to her that with Holmes' dangerous habits, this could be the time that her most esteemed boarder went one step too far. A sense of fear grew in her gut, and she bit her lip. Was this the moment she'd so dreaded over the years? He was a difficult boarder, but he was also a very brilliant man, and her status in the neighborhood benefitted from the fact that she housed the most famous detective in the world. People expected that she would take good care of him.

She carefully knelt and leaned over his body. His face was pale and she could detect no signs of breathing. What if he had been poisoned? The police might not understand that she wasn't responsible for all he ingested. They would go through her larder, tear up her house, and it would be in all the papers. Her reputation would be ruined.

A small sob escaped her and she slapped his cheek lightly. Then again and again. No movement. "If only Dr. Watson was here," she lamented.

She leaned over once more to study his face. Nothing moved. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

"Nanny!"

She fell back, knocking her head against the wall.


She awoke on the settee, Holmes sitting across from her enjoying his tea.

She lifted her head. "What happened?"

"A prank really. I thought it would be amusing to fool you a bit. Didn't foresee you bumping your head. Sorry about that."

"Mr. Holmes!"

"I know. I know. My usual company hasn't been seen on site this last week"

Mrs. Hudson rubbed the egg on the back of her head. "Please go apologize to Dr. Watson. Life is much more tolerable when he's a regular presence."

"Impossible! He was unfair, cruel even. Accused me of heinous behavior."

"Whatever he said couldn't have been that bad. Dr. Watson is one of the most civilized people I know."

"Wasn't civilized last week. He was a bit rabid actually."

She sat up and smoothed her skirts. "I don't believe it, Mr. Holmes. I'm sure it was a simple misunderstanding. Doesn't sound at all like Dr. Watson, does it?"

Holmes frowned. "It was a bit out of character, I suppose."

"Sounds to me like something is wrong for him to act so strange and all."

Holmes folded his arms.

Mrs. Hudson patted her hair. "But I suppose if your ego is wounded, you wouldn't notice that."

He glared at her.

"Well, I can see that my counsel isn't being appreciated. I'll leave you to your tea then, Mr. Holmes."

He watched her exit and stared at the door long after it closed.


"Why are you crying?!" He demanded when she opened the door to him.

"Holmes, show some decency," Mary said as she brushed at her wet cheeks.

"Where's Watson?" He asked as he brushed past her. "I came over so he could apologize to me."

"I thought you were out of town. John told me you took a case for the Earl of Suffolk."

"Turned it down. He knew that. Again Mary, where is he?"

Her lower lip trembled and to his horror, she burst into tears again. Holmes went over and steered her toward a chair. "Mary, what has gotten into you?"

"We've only been married three months."

"95 days to be exact. However, I'm sure that anniversaries are not your concern."

She shook her head and looked up at him. "I'm quite certain John has left me for another woman."

Holmes sat down across from her. "That's not possible."

"Why?"

"He's quite besotted with you. He speaks of you with an annoying reverence that I find somewhat redundant."

She set her mouth. "I have evidence."

"So you're a detective now, my dear."

She bristled. "I am not an idiot. It might surprise you to know that few women are."

"Not at all. My apologies. I find women many things, exasperating being at the top of that list, but I know you are not an idiot."

"Well then, Mr. Great Detective, perhaps I should tell you my evidence and you can judge for yourself."

He settled back and crossed his legs. "I'm waiting."

She took a deep breath. "He's lying to me."

"Hmmm."

"I know he's lying because he's very bad at it."

Holmes nodded. "Good point. Watson is completely without guile."

"He won't look me in the eye."

"How long has that been?"

"A week, I think."

"About the time he told you that I was out of town?"

She frowned. "Approximately."

"He had quite a quarrel with me last week."

"I don't understand."

"Let's return to your evidence."

"He's gone lone hours. I haven't even seen him in two days."

"Compelling."

Then Mary looked down. "And then this morning I went to the bank to withdraw for our rent…"

"The account was empty."

Her chin trembled. "There was 500 pounds in there just last week."

"Has he had any visitors lately?"

"Patients certainly."

"Anyone else?"

Mary thought for a moment. "An old friend stopped by, a friend from the war."

Holmes sighed. "Large man with a ridiculous name."

"His name was Tiny, I believe. Very jovial fellow. Welcomed me as John's wife quite warmly."

Holmes guffawed. "Unlike another close friend of John's."

She blushed. "I like to think that's all behind us, Sherlock."

"Of course, My Dear."

"My husband isn't having an affair?"

"Well, in the sense that he's shifted his commitment to another, he is."

She got to her feet. "Holmes, enough of the games! What's going on?"

Holmes looked up at her. "Your dear husband is gambling with your savings in the hopes that he can repay a man for his life."

"John said Tiny saved his life."

"And what price is a life?"

"I'm still confused."

Holmes threw his scarf around his shoulder. "I would stay to clarify, but I fear that Watson is playing fast and loose with your savings about now. "

"Sherlock, please find him and bring him home."


The world of gambling, while diverse, is a relatively small world. Holmes knew that Watson preferred physical contests between men to horses or dog racing. As a doctor, he imagined himself to be a good judge of a man's physical potential. Unfortunately, strength is only part of the equation. The other part of a good fighter had to do with the heart of the man. To understand a man's heart, his courage and will, took more assessment than a gambling man typically had time to do. As a result, Watson was only marginally successful as a gambler, and had rather dreadful instincts when it came to walking away.

It took about three hours of prowling gambling dens, boxing rings, and bars to find him. It was a basement brewery in one of the seediest parts of London. Holmes wrinkled his nose at the rank smell of hops and human sweat. Watson sat in a corner, resting his head against the back wall, eyes closed. It was a surprising place to find the fastidious doctor, but what was even more surprising was how he fit in. His clothes were dusty and torn, and there were alarming purple, bloody bruises on his mouth, eye, and temple. He was indistinguishable from any other patron in the place.

Without opening his eyes, he swallowed. "How did I know you would find me?"

Holmes smiled. "Impressive. Was it my scent? The sound of my walk?"

Watson raised his head, the puffy eye barely opening. "You don't belong. All conversation stops in this place when a gentleman graces its doorstep."

Holmes signaled for a barmaid and asked for soap and water. Then he turned to Watson. "Where shall we start?"

Watson's mouth twitched. "Why don't you tell me what happened? You're so good at it. I want to see how amazing you are."

Holmes sat across from him. "I went to see Mary this morning. She's distraught."

Watson winced. "I had hoped that she was still in the dark."

"She knows the bank account is empty. You've been gone two days. She's come to the conclusion that you're having an affair."

"I sent a boy with a note just yesterday."

"It never got there."

Watson groaned. "Good lord! So she thinks I'm having an affair. Is that better or worse than the truth?"

"You fought with me last week so that I would sulk and stay out of your way."

"Okay my genius friend, tell me the rest now." Watson propped up an elbow and gently rested his bruised head on his hand.

Holmes sighed. "Tiny came to visit you last week. Another hard luck story. But this time he tells you that I threatened him the last time I saw him. Probably insinuated that he feared me."

"He said you were a brute. You told him he was never to bother me again. The nerve of it, Holmes."

"It was a year ago when we had our little confrontation, but I admit that I would do it again today." Holmes took the bucket of water, cloth, and bar of soap from the maid and lathered the cloth with soap. Then he handed it to Watson. "Come now, you look like the devil. What will Mary say?"

Watson dabbed at his bruises.

Holmes sat back and continued. "So, after he visited, you decided to come and insult me such that I would be too busy massaging my ego to pay attention to any odd behavior on your part. At that point, you and Tiny withdraw the whole of your account and came down here to win a fortune."

"He has six hungry children."

Holmes slammed the table with a fist. "Then he should provide for them."

Watson glared at him. "He has the bad arm; the arm that was ruined when he saved my life. It's not so easy to provide when you can barely lift your arm."

"Yes, yes. Poor Tiny. Let's forget about your productiveness with a bad leg. No matter. Apparently, it is incumbent upon you to give him all you own whenever he calls. Poppycock!"

"You've always disliked him. Jealous, perhaps?"

"Of course, Watson. How logical. I am jealous of a man who makes his living with his hand out. I should want to be a man who inspires only pity in the people around him."

"That's enough. You were never a soldier. You cannot understand the bond that happens between men in a war."

"I rather thought our bond was similar to that. We've certainly seen enough danger together."

Watson didn't meet his eyes.

Holmes sighed and pointed a finger at him. "You hiding in this dungeon of a place tells me that you've lost all of your money. The bruises on your face tell me that in your misery you put yourself in the boxing ring last night. Did you really imagine you could win or did you do it to mete out a self-imposed punishment?"

"Poor Mary had no idea what she was getting into. Why didn't you stop me from marrying her?" Watson reached for the beer, but the smell of it turned his nose.

Holmes grabbed the mug and put it on the next table. "That's enough. You have a responsibility to that good woman. As soon you scrub the dirt off your neck, I'm taking you home."

"She shouldn't see me like this."

"Then you'll stay at Baker Street for a day or two, and then we'll brave the marital home."

Watson started to rise when a booming voice sounded. "John! John!"

Both men turned to see Tiny McGinty striding toward them. "We've had the most blessed good luck!"

Then he spotted Holmes. "Ah, the great detective. I should've guessed."

Holmes looked away.

Tiny returned his attention to Watson. "We've won, My Friend. We've won!"

Watson winced at him. "Impossible. I kept track of all the bets."

"Yes, well, this was a little side bet."

"You had no money."

McGinty clapped his hands together. "There was the little matter of note you sent the missus containing 50 pounds. I had to liberate it from the boy. I had the most perfect bet in mind."

Watson's mouth dropped. "That was money for our expenses, Tiny."

"I am a wretch, but today I am a lucky wretch. I put it on a long shot for Thompson 20 to 1, and the he won. He was fighting a much larger bloke, but the gods were us, John. We won 1000 pounds."

Watson's sore face lit up. "Impossible!"

"It's true. Look at it for yourself." He dropped a pile of money on the table.

"Stupid." Holmes muttered.

Tiny flashed eyes at him. "Why, Mr. Holmes? It's not stupid to turn one loaf into many."

"You stole his money."

"And it's lucky I did." Tiny walked up to Holmes as large men do when they want to remind others of their size.

"Enough! Enough! All is saved!" Watson pushed Tiny away from Holmes.

Holmes got to his feet. "It was his money. Therefore, the winnings are his."

"Oh, Holmes, let it go. What Tiny did came form the best of intentions, and it has paid off. Don't you see!"

"Are you ready to go back to Baker Street?"

Watson looked at the money on the table. "I still have business to conduct with Tiny."

McGinty scowled at Holmes.

"What shall I say to Mary?"

Watson blinked. "Oh, God, I didn't think."

"Of course, John," Tiny boomed. "Let's take our winnings to your home. We'll take out your lovely wife and celebrate with her."

Watson shook his head. "Not with these bruises. She'll be quite alarmed. Perhaps, I should go with Holmes."

Tiny slapped him on the back. "I'll explain everything. I'll tell her you were in a brawl. I'll tell her it was my fault."

"Lying has not served me well thus far."

"But it serves me beautifully." The burly man had Watson by the shoulder. "Holmes, you'll have to surrender him to me today. 1000 pounds cannot be ignored."

With that, he steered Watson toward the steps. Holmes didn't protest. McGinty had a presence, a charisma almost, that enveloped Watson every single time. He picked up the dirty cloth Watson used on his face and dropped it into the bucket of water.


Chapter 2 by next Monday