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Chapter Eleven. Peace.

"I don't blame you for wanting to help him Doctor, but as Mr

"I don't blame you for wanting to help him Doctor, but as Mr. Holmes says this McMallen's beyond the law."

"But how is that possible?" I asked, bewildered. We were sitting in Lestrade's sitting room, smoking a cigarette and talking over the case. Lestrade was not at work, having asked special leave to assist me with my case. It was a useful thing, when one has built up a reputation, to be able to request assistance from the top organisations in the country.

"He's a crafty bugger, if you'll pardon the language, he don't do anything himself, just sends his lacky's to do it for him, we got plenty of them, but then there's plenty of replacements, plenty of folk round the East End that's skint and'll do pretty much anything to make a bob or two."

I had to agree with him, there were plenty of people who would risk life and limb to make ends meet, but still, I could not pardon the fact that Scotland Yard knew of McMallen's activities and still remained idle.

"But," Lestrade continued, seeing my distress, "That doesn't mean I'll not help you, I want to see this man behind bars as much as you."

I nodded,

"I'm not sure what we can do Lestrade, I just know that Holmes cannot face this man alone."

"No, of course not. I'll keep an eye and do what I can."

"Thank you Lestrade, at the moment I cannot ask more than that. I must be going," I said, standing up and shaking the detective's hand, "Holmes is already suspicious and it wouldn't do to arouse those suspicions further."

Lestrade laughed as he saw me out,

"No, indeed it wouldn't! I haven't known anyone to come out of Mr. Holmes' suspicions without harm."

"No, indeed." I forced a smile and hailed a cab from the busy street below.

My journey home was one filled with apprehension and doubt. Was going to Lestrade the right thing to do? Was it going to help in any way? I have to admit that during that journey home I doubted it very much. The houses passed by in something of a haze as I rounded the corner into Baker Street, the house looked very much as it did when I left it and I wondered if the occupants within were quite as peaceful. As I turned my key in the door I could hear Mrs. Hudson's voice from the kitchen, she was talking quietly and gently, as I approached the door – my curiosity getting the better of me – I saw Rebecca awake and smiling, drinking tea and talking quite happily to Mrs, Hudson. I closed the door on this scene and made my way up stairs to face whatever wrath Holmes had planned for me. I pushed open the door and found William sound asleep on the couch in front of the fire, a blanket pulled tight around his shoulders, and Holmes curled in his chair engrossed in a book. Holmes raised his eyes as I entered and cast a brief glance at William.

"How was you visit?" he asked in almost a whisper.

"Fine," I replied, taking a seat gratefully.

"Just fine?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Holmes I afford Lestrade the same confidentiality in his cases that I afford you in yours." I said, somewhat haughtily, leaning back and closing my eyes. Holmes made some derogatory noise and returned to his book. I was full of questions of Rebecca but was so desperate for silence that for the moment I let it pass. It was Holmes who spoke first.

"Rebecca is awake."

"Yes, I know I saw her in the kitchen."

"Are you not curious as to what she said or how she is?"

"Not particularly." I replied, aware I was annoying him but I relished these little moments of revenge.

"Well, she did not say anything I did not already know and I believe she feels quite well, apart from a little bruising. Her mental state however…" he trailed off and I opened my eyes to find him staring at William, sitting up I followed his gaze and his train of thought. Indeed, what would their mental state be after all they had been through? I could not imagine how one would live with such experiences. Holmes let out a sigh that seemed to echo my own thoughts and began to smoke, which he always did when at a loss.

"It wont work Watson." He said, almost to himself rather than to me.

"What wont?" I asked, still looking at the sleeping boy.

"Seeking help from Lestrade." He said simply, not looking at me. I believe my mouth must have dropped through the floor for Holmes smiled at me, "Watson really you are the most transparent of men, you would make an awful criminal."

He chuckled again and returned his gaze back to the fire.

"You are not angry?" I asked in something of a shaky voice.

"Heavens no. Why should I be angry? Because you feared for my safety? Because you want to see an evil man given the punishment he deserves? No Watson, these are the qualities that make up you and I would not have it any other way."

In all the years I have lived with Holmes, he never ceased to amaze me. I could think of nothing to do but smile stupidly at him.

"Watson please alter you expression, anyone would think I had just declared my undying love for Mrs. Hudson."

I laughed and disappeared to my room to write up what you are currently reading, I left Holmes reading intently and William sleeping and in spite of the danger we were all facing I don't believe I had ever felt more at peace in my entire life.

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