I was surprised and just a bit worried to see that Lestrade was indeed making use of the cane his wife had insisted he take with him.
He caught my glance, and sighed. "I'm not about to argue with Lizzie." He declared. "And I haven't been able to stay off it."
"How serious is it?" I asked. If only it weren't so late. A cab would be welcome, but the hour practically guaranteed there would be none.
Lestrade didn't answer right away. "It depends on how much longer this lasts." He finally said. "Once this is over, I can actually justify getting off of it for a few days. Until then, I can't really leave Gregson to face this by himself." He eyed the cane with distaste. "In the meantime, my foot is killing me. If someone knocked me out right now I might just thank him for the temporary relief being unconscious would offer."
We had come a long way for Lestrade to actually be able to admit something like that to me. "Hopefully Holmes will have some answers by the time we get there." I suggested.
"One can only hope." He replied tersely.
Holmes had already examined the house and found a trail by the time we reached Gregson's home. He was waiting for us rather impatiently, and didn't remember to even acknowledge our arrival before he took off with considerable speed.
I groaned inwardly, and sneaked a glance at Lestrade, but he was resigned and determined to keep up with Holmes, at least, as much as anyone could keep up with my friend.
"Gregson was still alive when he was taken." Holmes called back to us. "I suspect he may have been taken as bait."
"He wants both of them." I realized. "Gregson and Lestrade. He's hoping Lestrade will follow this trail and into his trap."
"Exactly." Holmes agreed.
"So?" Lestrade grunted.
"So we give him what he wants." Holmes replied. "You will take the lead, and when they take you, Watson and I will follow at a distance. When we find Gregson, we'll act!"
"Assuming either of us is still in any shape to help you and the Doctor." Lestrade pointed out. "You should call for backup."
"We don't have time." Holmes insisted. "Gregson's position becomes more precarious with every second that goes by."
Lestrade sighed. "All right, Holmes." He agreed wearily. We continued in silence.
"We're close now." Holmes said some time later. "Take the lead, Lestrade."
Holmes and I drew back, and slipped into the shadows. I separated from Lestrade with a guilty conscience, for although I knew the man was fully capable I could not help but worry about his chances against a gang of smugglers that had nearly cost him and Gregson their lives once before, especially in his current condition.
It was not long before the trail, which was so obvious that Lesrade had not the slightest difficulty in following it in the dark, led into a dark alley, and to someone's cellar door.
They moved quickly, and were upon Lestrade before he knew it. One of them delivered a swift blow to the back of his head before he could so much as turn, and he went down. The two men opened the cellar door and dragged the unconscious Inspector inside.
Holmes and I exchanged a glance; his grim expression undoubtedly matched my own. We stepped forward out of the shadows, and approached the cellar door.
Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes and the boys do not belong to me.