Since this is the last part, I would like to take the time to thank everyone who has being reading and reviewing along the way. Your support means so much! And a big thank you to my sister for making sure that these last few chapters got posted before the end of the century. I hope you all enjoy the final chapter and thanks again for putting up with my silliness.
Mycroft escorted the weeping Mrs. Hudson back into the apartment with the intent of searching it for clues. Personally, I didn't think he would find much. He didn't look like he would be very adept at conducting a criminal investigation, especially one that would involve moving.
My two favorite humans were in the clutches of Moriarty because I had failed to warn them, but that was no reason to give up. To start with, I had noticed one clue that Mycroft Holmes hadn't. There were bits of yellowish mud on and surrounding the front steps and I could easily observe a series of footprints. They obviously couldn't belong to Dr. Watson, since there was no evidence that their owner had a limp. I knew they were too large to belong to Mrs. Hudson and that Mycroft had not stepped in mud (that would require walking, after all). So I concluded that they belonged to one of the villains responsible for abducting my human friends.
It must have been a gigantic mud puddle, for I was able to follow the little yellowish clumps all the way to the door of a tavern. It did not appear to be a very likely place to hold Mr. Holmes or Dr. Watson, but I slipped inside to investigate and soon discovered that my trip had not been a complete wild-goose chase. Robinson, one of Moriarty's henchmen, was sitting at the bar, his boots covered in mud. Judging by the pile of empty glasses before him, he had been there for quite some time. Another thug was bending over him and whispering fiercely in his ear, so I quickly hurried closer to eavesdrop.
"Robinson, you bloody fool!" he was saying, "The boss is going to skin you alive."
"Well, he can have a pint too, if he wishes, I've no objections," said Robinson lazily, a silly expression on his face, "Better yet, he can have two!"
"You idiot, how long have you been here?"
"Oh, I dunno," he hiccupped, "Long enough for two or three…or eleventy."
"You realize you were supposed to stay at the warehouse after you brought the doctor?"
"Ah, lighten up, there's a good chum. I'll be betting gack to Threadneedle Street pretty soonish," Robinson smiled dreamily.
I did not stay to hear the fool's pleas to stay "just a bittle lit bonger" but dashed out as soon as I knew my destination. What a fool I had been. Theadneedle Street had been mentioned in several of Moriarty's plans and I had completely forgotten about it.
I figured that Robinson was supposed to be on guard at the gang's warehouse, but since he was busy getting intoxicated; it was very possible that no one was there at the moment. This could be my only chance to save Mr. Holmes, so I hurried on my way.
Once I reached the street in question, I easily identified Moriarty's warehouse by the large mud puddle near it. The building looked to be deserted so I forced open one of the windows and slipped inside.
To my surprise, someone was there waiting for me. It was not Mr. Holmes or Dr. Watson; it was not even Colonel Moriarty. It was Molly.
"Oh, Schmitty, you've made it," she cried, scurrying towards me, "I'm so very glad to see you."
"Just what are you doing here?" I asked coldly. I had not forgotten her previous betrayal.
"Why, I'm here to save Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson, same as you."
"Of course you are."
"No, I'm quite serious! I thought about what you said earlier and you were right. I'm not going to waste any more time cowering at the feet of that horrible Moriarty. Please, Schmitty, you have to believe-" Just then, she was interrupted by a clock striking four in the afternoon.
"Oh, no," Molly groaned, "Colonel Moriarty will be here any second. Quickly, get into this closet!"
"I'm not listening to anything you have to say," I sniffed, "It would be an insult to Mr. Holmes."
"But Moriarty always comes here at four o'clock and you can't let him find you here. Please listen to me!"
I really did not want to obey her wishes, but if she was right, everything could be ruined if I did not take cover. And there was no way I could afford to take unnecessary chances…
"I can't believe I'm trusting you," I grumbled, following her into the shadowy closet.
As soon as we shut the door behind us, I heard the front door creaking open. Moments later, I recognized the footsteps of one Colonel Moriarty heading up the stairs.
"Well, he's very punctual," I muttered, "Molly, I think I owe you-"
"Shh!" she hissed.
Moriarty was speaking in low tones, but with my excellent hearing, I could still pick up what was being said. "Have you reconsidered?" he asked, his voice oozing and dripping with hatred.
"Of course not." Mr. Holmes spat. I could not see him, but I would have recognized that voice anywhere.
"You realize that your obstinacy shall get you nowhere."
"You realize I am not going to cooperate with you. Do what you like with me."
"I see. And do those same sentiments extend to your friend, Dr. Watson?"
"You will leave him out of this!"
"Oh certainly, certainly I shall. After you renounce your claim that my brother was the mastermind of a vast criminal organization, you both will be free to go. But if not, then things may not turn out so well for your dear, devoted doctor."
"He'll never give in to you," Dr. Watson retorted furiously.
"Gentlemen, we're getting nowhere," Moriarty sighed, "I grow weary of negotiating with you. I will return in twenty-four hours. If you have not changed your mind, it shall not be so pleasant for you."
Neither of my humans had any desire to respond to the fiend. We heard him tramp down the stairs and walk out the front door, slamming it behind him.
"And good riddance," Molly muttered angrily, giving me somewhat of a shock. She had always sounded so afraid of Moriarty before. I had to say, I really liked the change.
As we exited the closet together, she hesitantly turned to speak to me.
"Well, Schmitty, I know I've been a terrible cat, and you're probably very mad at me still. But if one day, you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I should be, that is, it would make me very happy."
"On one condition."
"And that is?"
"That you forgive me for not trusting you and for leaving you on the streets. It was very inconsiderate of me."
"No, no, don't worry about it," she grinned, "I managed to find my way here without very much trouble, so it all worked out in the end. Now, shall we rescue your humans?"
Friends again, we hurried up the stairs together. It was not difficult to determine which room held Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson because they were in a bit of an argument.
"Dash it all, Watson, I am not going to sacrifice you because of that villain's demands!"
"It's the only way, Holmes. I won't let you be accused of slander when you're perfectly justified in your claims against the Professor."
"Do you think that really matters to me?"
"Well, it matters to me, so-I say Holmes, I hope I'm not seeing things, but I do believe that's Schmitty."
I figured that was as good a moment as any to enter the room. Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson were each tied to a chair and by the looks on their faces, you would have thought we had suddenly turned purple. It was very odd, especially in Mr. Holmes's case. I was so used to him looking like he knew everything.
"What are you doing here Schmit-I mean, you little monster?" Mr. Holmes thundered.
"Holmes, there's two of them!"
"Two? Good heavens, what is this world coming to? I've managed to put up with this mongrel for all this time, and now he brings me a fluffy white beast. Disgusting!"
Molly looked a bit hurt at his name-calling, but I didn't have time to explain to her that he didn't really mean it. I gestured to her that she should set the Doctor free while I attended to Mr. Holmes. I had a feeling that in his case it would be a teensy bit more difficult of a job.
"Get off me, you little piece of vermin!" he shouted, as I began clawing at the ropes that held him.
"Holmes, I think they're trying to help us."
"Confound it, I will not allow myself to be rescued by a pair of repulsive little pussycats!"
"Oh, do be quiet. You're only making his job more difficult."
"Do you know, Watson, I don't really care. His involvement is not necessary. Watch it, you filthy animal! I just had this suit altered and if you get a single scratch on it, so help me, I'll-good heavens, Watson, he's got me completely untied."
"So I observed," he said dryly, pulling himself to his feet, "Now, are you going to sit there gaping at me, or would you like to get out of here?"
"But none of this makes sense! This wretched cat went missing for all of this time and now it suddenly turns up out of nowhere with this other creature…it isn't logical."
"To be honest, I'm just glad they were able to set us free," Watson shrugged, "I suppose there are some things we just aren't meant to understand."
Mr. Holmes looked as though he wanted to protest further, but Dr. Watson pulled him to his feet and out the door, Molly and I following behind. But, unfortunately, we didn't get very far. There at the bottom of the steps was Colonel Moriarty, blocking our path.
"Fifibella, I don't know what you think you're doing with Holmes and that wretched orange fellow, but you can be sure that you are in very big trouble," he said dangerously.
"The other monster is yours?" Mr. Holmes sputtered, "But how in God's name did it meet my-I mean, Mrs. Hudson's cat?"
"Search me, Holmes, for once in my life, I have no idea," Moriarty snarled, "But it doesn't matter. They can die along with you for all I care."
I saw him pull a gun from his pocket and point it at Mr. Holmes. I shoved Molly behind me to shield her, wishing that the humans were small enough that I might protect them too.
But then, out of nowhere, came the sound of hope. The door slammed open with a bang and Inspector Lestrade rushed in with two constables.
"Drop the gun, Colonel Moriarty!" he barked, "We've rounded up all of your men. They'll be charged with kidnapping, but I think in your case, we may be able to extend it to attempted murder."
Cursing as he did so, Moriarty obeyed.
"Oh, Schmitty, what a clever idea," Molly exclaimed, "However did you manage to get inside Scotland Yard?"
"I didn't. Do you mean to tell me that you didn't send for them either?"
"Why, no, of course not."
"Well that's very odd," I mused, "I never would have believed it."
"Believed what?"
"That Mycroft Holmes could actually be useful for something. I have to say, I'm just a little disappointed that I didn't have the chance to take Moriarty down himself."
Watson took the two furry demons back to Baker Street, leaving me and Lestrade to deal with the official side of things. After we took Moriarty's gang into custody, I headed back home, managing to avoid a hug from Mrs. Hudson as she opened the front door. Our landlady was absolutely ecstatic to have both of her lodgers back safe and sound and even more so to see her precious cat.
"And we'll have to keep the other one as well," she declared, "I must say, I wasn't very surprised when I heard that our Schmitty had found himself a lady friend. He's such a charming little fellow."
"Oh, absolutely, let's have two of the little monsters crawling around and shedding on everything. It will be delightful."
"I'm so glad you agree, Mr. Holmes," Mrs. Hudson smiled. Sarcasm evidently did not have much of an effect on her.
That evening was an uncomfortable affair. The little monster simply would not leave my side, and since the fluffy creature would not leave his side, I soon found myself with two cats following my every move. Not to mention that I had to keep Watson from revealing the embarrassing story of how we escaped to Mrs. Hudson. Even if she did believe him, I was not in the mood to be laughed at by my landlady, so I was very glad when they both retired for the evening. The fluffy one had fallen asleep on the table. Mrs. Hudson had always minded when I left my chemicals or my Stradivarius on the table, but of course, the cat was not allowed to be moved. Hmph.
Satisfied that they were all quite asleep and would not hear anything I was about to say, I made my way towards the other cat, who was dozing on the sofa.
"Er-hello, little monster," I began, "Normally, I wouldn't be bothering to acknowledge your existence like this, but I suppose it will not be too horrible if you are asleep. Now, I'm sure you know that I'm not very fond of you. Actually, I despise you. And I really mean that. But you did manage to assist us-or assist Watson, rather, as I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I was only waiting for the right moment to escape, you see. However, I suppose you did manage to help, in a way. I still don't care for you, but perhaps you are a little more tolerable than most cats. So, um, thank you, little monster. Or, that is to say, thank you, Schmitty."
He meowed quietly in his sleep, rolling over as he did so.
"What a fool I'm turning into," I muttered, "Speaking to cats…"
And with that, I turned my back on the little creature, marched into my bedroom and shut the door.
Author's Note- I have long respected Mr. Sherlock Holmes for his high proficiency in many subjects but it is obvious to me that he never bothered to learn how to speak Cat. If he had managed to master the language properly, he would have realized two things.
One, Schmitty wasn't asleep.
And two, the meow that he took no notice of was actually Cat for "You're welcome, Mr. Holmes."