"I am sincerely saddened by this, Doctor. It is a lamentable end." Ms. Elise's young, eloquent voice said behind him. Watson did not turn around; he could feel the weight of the revolver's aim across the center of his back.
"You know how to use it?" Watson asked. He was curious, not terrified. She was yet a lady.
"John taught me." She said, naming her brother and the man she claimed had threatened her.
"He is not your brother." Watson said. A deduction. Perhaps not up to Holmesian standards, but admirable under the circumstances. Still, he did not turn around.
"He is my fiancé." Ms. Elise said. Then softly, honestly. "I love him."
"You would commit murder for him." Watson said. He did not feel fear, only disbelief. Truly it was absurd, too melodramatic for even his tastes.
"He was to go away with me. That was before Mr. Holmes began his investigation. We will go away yet. We will be married. I must simply remove the obstacles." Ms. Elise said. Though Watson could not see it, he felt her finger press more aggressively against the trigger.
"You hesitate." Watson said, voice gentle. "You are not a killer."
"I am whatever John needs me to be." Ms. Elise said. For the first time, her voice shook. Her words were flighty, loose, and fragile. Completely devoid of sanity's weight. Watson could push right through her voice, splinter its sound. For the first time, he was afraid.
"It is for love. There is no more divine thing." She said, and pulled the trigger.