The Final Farewell
After rescuing Queen Moustoria, my next act was to find Flaversham and liberate him from Ratigan's henchmen. The queen's guards seized control of the traitors while I seized control of the villain's robot. Having been utterly humiliated by the sewer rat, I determined to show no clemency. Perhaps I enjoyed myself a bit too much, but I have no regrets.
Bursting from behind the curtain, I called him a sewer rat. As he looked on in astonishment, I ordered his arrest. I could scarcely believe what was occurring; this was the highlight of my career. I had just apprehended the most dangerous criminal in the empire, outwitted the most devious genius in Mousedom. To ensure this, the most important night of my life, would never be forgotten, I removed the bell Ratigan carried in his pocket, doing so with such deftness that he never noticed.
That would have been the epitome of a happy ending, but such events rarely occur in real life. Fidget took Flaversham's daughter hostage as Ratigan freed himself from our grip. Flaversham, Dawson, and I made our own flying machine to catch Ratigan's dirigible as the brutes left with the girl.
It is essential to note there is a definite line between valor and folly. I most certainly crossed such a line, but to this day, I am unsure at which exact point this occurred. Perhaps I stopped being courageous and began to be foolish when I leaped onto Ratigan's dirigible.
I recall hearing the girl shriek, followed by the sound of breaking glass. The next thing I knew, I was surrounded by various cogs and gears. My neck ached dreadfully, but the incessant noise of the clock made it impossible to concentrate. I realized my primary task was to free myself from this unusual prison, waiting until after I had reached safety to check for signs of serious injury.
"Basil! Look out!"
The girl's warning came too late. I turned just in time to see Ratigan's hand send me sprawling. He would have hit me again, no doubt finishing me off, but his hostage bit down as hard as she could on his glove. Knowing I had only a few seconds to react, I entangled his cape between two gears.
No sooner had I overcome one obstacle than another presented itself. Ratigan had managed to kick the girl between two gears; she would be crushed in mere seconds. Thinking quickly, I managed to save her life at the last possible moment, silently giving thanks to any and all powers that had aided me.
Something came over me, and I no longer cared about my own life. I had to get the girl to safety. Nothing else mattered. My heart was pounding more rapidly than ever before in my life as I heard Ratigan approaching, but there was still too much distance between Flaversham and his daughter.
She had her hand stretched out as far as she could. "Daddy! I can't reach!"
Ratigan lunged at me. I suppose that is not entirely accurate. A large, fearsome creature lunged at me, but it was not Ratigan. The monster before me had no ability to reason, no logic whatsoever. This was not the world's greatest criminal mind, but a wroth beast driven insane by his own hatred and malevolence. As the two of us fell a greater distance than I care to remember, I began to recall important events from my life.
I stretched out my hands in a vain attempt to grasp anything to prevent my inevitable demise but had no luck. Ratigan caught me midair, determined that I should receive the brunt of our landing.
Every muscle in me ached upon impact. Terrified, I realized that I was standing on one of the clock's hands. If I should make the slightest misstep, I would irrefutably fall to my death.
"Basil! Over here!"
I looked toward the sound of Dawson's voice and noticed our flying machine was nearing, to my immense relief. The girl was also safe in the arms of her father.
Everything might have been alright if Ratigan hadn't attacked me from behind. I knew fighting him would only cause greater injury, so I wriggled out of his grasp and fled. To my horror, I found him in front of me.
"There's no escape this time, Basil!"
I nearly shuddered at the sound of his voice, which held no trace of his previously feigned sophistication. It was the sound of pure hatred and enraged brutality, the sound of viciousness driven mad.
Again I turned and ran, and as before, he blocked my path. Clearly he was far more agile than I.
I had been expecting some manner of trouble if he caught me, but I had not anticipated his claws striking me twice with such force that I fell backward. Before I could rise, another such blow was administered. Two quick swipes shredded the front of my jacket before I felt my back torn as easily as paper. The next strike nearly knocked me off the edge.
The agony was intense. I had been sore before Ratigan began using his claws against me, but now I was in utter torment. My back and arms were stinging and throbbing dreadfully. Instead of fearing death, I began to welcome it, but some instinct forced me to cling to the hand of the clock after Ratigan's next hit caused me to fall. Too exhausted to fight or flee, I looked up helplessly as Ratigan finally succeeded in sending me to my doom. Dawson attempted to catch me as I plunged through the darkness, but it was to no avail.
At the last possible second, I managed to catch the wreckage of Ratigan's dirigible. Noticing the hour was about to change gave me an idea.
Ratigan laughed. "I've won!"
"On the contrary! The game's not over yet!" With that, I rang the bell I had taken from him.
As the clock's bell chimed the hour, the force of the vibration sent Ratigan to the ground. He attempted to take me with him, but he lost his grip while I continued to cling to the propeller.
We both survived. I'll never know how he did it, but later investigation revealed that Ratigan landed unscathed; however, he never again caused trouble for anyone. Felicia had seen to that.
At the time, I had no idea that Ratigan had indeed met his demise, for I was more concerned with my own survival. The propeller lifted me to the flying machine and those who awaited me there.
Olivia embraced me. "Oh, Basil! You saved my life! You're the hero! Ratigan had no chance against you!"
I've heard it said that the affection of a child is most precious, but with my stiff muscles and bleeding back, there was nothing wonderful about being embraced. I've never cared for sentimentality under the best of circumstances, and my current situation was certainly not my best.
Flaversham came to my rescue. "You might want to be more gentle with him until he gets better, Olivia."
She released me.
"Don't worry, Basil," Dawson began. "As soon as we return to Baker Street, I'll take care of your wounds."
"You most certainly will not!" I protested.
"If you remain still, you won't feel any pain," he coaxed. "Just think of the relief from your suffering! It will only take a few minutes."
"I appreciate your concern, Doctor, but I am unscathed," I argued.
Under no circumstances was I about to entrust my health to someone who had danced with showgirls while in a drunken stupor. Although I was slightly ashamed of myself for judging someone I had known only for two days, I wasn't about to allow Dawson to tend my injuries.
When we arrived back at Buckingham Palace to return the flag we had borrowed for our flying machine and find Toby, a guard stopped us. I recognized this gentleman as one of Ratigan's former henchmen, who had made his escape years ago. He informed us that Queen Moustoria requested our presence at once.
"I am highly honored, but I cannot appear before her injured!" I stated.
"Nevertheless, she has ordered, and you must obey," he replied.
Dawson frowned. "Injured? I thought you said you were unscathed!"
"I fail to see how this is any of your concern, Dawson!" I answered.
"Will you come?" the guard asked.
I crossed my arms. "It seems I have no choice. I will come."
If it had been up to me, I would have postponed the ceremony a few days, but one must not question the queen. After Her Majesty made a speech, I was loaned a jacket and knighted in front of everyone. When the scepter touched my shoulder, I nearly drew back, for I was still in anguish from my battle with Ratigan; however, I managed to maintain my composure.
Her Highness instructed me to accompany her as she addressed the crowd yet again. "I present to you Sir Basil, the greatest detective in all Mousedom!"
I tired to savor the moment, but I'm afraid I wasn't feeling too well. After the ceremony, journalists from nearly every newspaper in the empire interviewed me, and as a result, it was quite late when I arrived home. I suddenly realized I was beginning to feel rather weak. The adrenaline had worn off, and my pride prevented me from admitting the extent of my injuries, even to myself. When I immediately collapsed as I tried to stand, I concluded that I was dying.
The next thing I knew, it was morning. I was lying in my bed, stiff and weak. I slowly sat up and placed my hands on my sore back. That was when I felt the bandages.
"He didn't!" I muttered under my breath, gingerly feeling my arms. "He did! When I get my hands on him, I'll…!"
The only thing preventing me from yelling Dawson's name and demanding an explanation was the realization that I was the only one awake. Having no wish to draw attention to myself, I slipped outside for my morning paper.
Toby, who had no doubt stepped onto the porch to retrieve the paper for Mr. Holmes, acted elated to see me. I wished him a good morning, asking rhetorically how I had come to be wrapped in bandages and why the story of my latest case was printed on the front page of my newspaper when I had merely been doing my job.
Temporarily lost to reverie, I repeated to myself that it was finally over. Ratigan was dead. The world's greatest criminal mind had been outwitted by the great mouse detective. The shock of my triumph overcame me, and I did something I had never before done in my life: I burst into song.
My joy was cut short as I wondered if perhaps Ratigan were still alive. After a brief investigation at Big Ben, during which Toby and Felicia accompanied me, I was convinced the fiend was dead, and I had survived without serious injury. The knowledge was most gratifying. Well, perhaps my wounds had been slightly worse than I thought, but still…
Suddenly I remembered Ratigan as a child. I recalled how close we had been as friends, playing chess or telling each other stories. Despite my best efforts, I could not push aside memories of childhood games and jokes we had shared. Before I could stop myself, my mind slipped, causing me to wonder what life might have been like if Ratigan had never become a criminal. With our combined intelligence, we could have…
"You were such a good friend!" I whispered rhetorically, staring at my bandaged arm. "How could you have done this?"
I had meant to return to Baker Street immediately, but I stopped by the cemetery first. Realizing I had accidentally donned my shredded jacket before I left home, I removed my coat. I had no further use for it as it made me look most unprofessional. Seeming to understand what I was about to do, Toby dug a small hole.
"Here I lay to rest our previous amity and our current enmity," I began. "You were a powerful enemy, but before you allowed your heart to darken, you were an even more powerful friend. I shall never forget you or the potential we could have had as partners if our respective careers had not been in opposition to each other. I still hold you in high regard for your superb cunning, and I forgive you for every time you attempted to end my life. Mousedom has suffered a great loss, for you could have contributed so much to the empire if you had not yearned to destroy the lives of its citizens. May you rest in peace forever, Ratigan."
Having finished my brief eulogy, I threw my jacket into the hole. I know burying my coat was a pathetic excuse for a funeral, but at the time, it was all I could think to do to honor Ratigan's memory. Felicia removed the bow from her hair and threw it beside the jacket, and Toby covered both with items with earth.
Holmes was waiting on the porch. "Toby! Wherever have you been?! I see our visitor seems to have recovered!"
By "visitor," he meant "Felicia," who had been badly mauled by the royal guard dogs the previous evening.
I attempted to slip into my own home unnoticed, but it is indeed most difficult to sneak past a detective.
"What in the name of Doyle…?! Watson!"
"Is there a problem, Holmes?"
"Observe! That mouse is wearing clothing!"
Felicia grabbed me and crammed me into her mouth.
"I don't see a mouse, Holmes."
"Perhaps you're right, Watson. Besides, whoever heard of a mouse wearing clothes? Humans are the only species to don attire."
As soon as the humans had focused their attention elsewhere, Felicia spit me out as carefully as possible, gently running her paw over my bandages to make sure none had been misplaced. I entered my flat and noticed Dawson at the breakfast table. Remembering how I had been bandaged without my knowledge, I strolled over to where he was sitting and announced that we needed to talk.