Continuation from the last. From Lestrade's POV this time. We're almost to the end of this misadventure, hopefully Holmes can hold out for a while longer.


Insanity

The clatter of hooves echoed across the cobblestone streets as the horses galloped along the police carriage I and Doctor Watson along with a couple other constables, including Clarke, were riding in the back of. We were busy preparing for the raid that was to come and I never thought that I would ever lead such a thing into a hospital that was built like a prison for the insane. The police were not suppose to raid prisons and yet, here I was with the friend of Sherlock Holmes doing exactly that just so we could save that barmy detective's arse.

Like the good Doctor, I too was quite angered at the thought of the detective deceiving us just so he could sneak in behind the lines of the enemy and gather the evidence he needed to end this wretched case. The only consolation I could take out of this whole ordeal is that Holmes suffered for his arrogance and over-confidence. It served him right, it did! But my good conscious could not allow him to continue to suffer even if he did deserve it half of the time.

With a click of the revolver barrel snapping into place, I glanced up at the Doctor who wore a determined expression that masked the quiet anger that lay underneath. I knew the anger he felt was not directed toward Mister Holmes but rather toward Doctor Ivanson for what the man had been doing to his friend as well as to several other patients committed to Bedlam.

It sickened me that someone who was suppose to up hold the Hippocratic Oath was abusing his position within Bedlam to torment people all for a more sick and twisted religious cause. If Doctor Watson had not come barging into my office disguised as a dark haired, mutton chopped, hospital doctor and carrying several incriminating files and a small journal with a golden pentagram with a squid head emblazoned on its cover, I would not have believed him. I am still reeling over the evidence the man had managed to filch from Ivanson's office.

"Can not this contraption go any faster?" my still dark-haired, mutton chopped companion demanded most impatiently after checking and rechecking his own revolver for the thousandth time since we left Scotland Yard.

"Patience, Doctor," I answered him. "Ivanson is not going anywhere..."

"It's not Ivanson that I am worried about, Inspector," the Doctor cut me off irritably and I could feel the concern that the former soldier was feeling toward his... our friend. Sherlock Holmes may be annoying, snooty even, and may take jibes at me and my colleagues, but I have, over the years, grown to accept that part of him and see past the insufferable arrogance for the brilliance and the person whom he was that lay behind the cold mask.

"Of course," said I while studying the Doctor. He looked tired and worn, no doubt the result of the last few nights without a decent sleep because he worried for his friend whom he had committed to the asylum which we were now going to rescue him from. "Holmes is a survivor. He'll fight them to the last, he will."

"That is what I am worried most about," Watson replied with a heavy sigh as he fingered the revolver in his hands. "They had said he tried to commit suicide once, Lestrade. But I know Holmes, he wouldn't do that. So that makes me wonder what exactly had happened to have had his wrists slashed by them? Did he manage to thwart their attempts to drug him again and they punished him? Did he manage to get free of the cell only to be caught again? What else have they been doing to him besides doping him up with that hallucinogen?"

"Was it not in his medical file?" I asked and tried to recall what the file had said. The doctor shook his head lightly.

"No. Ivanson was smart enough to leave the more... questionable practices out of Holmes file. Hell, even the evidence of the 'new drug' could be argued as nothing more than a doctor testing a new medicine on his patients."

"Fortunately you found that journal as well, Doctor," I said and straightened my posture as the carriage began to slow when we neared the hospital. "Which detailed the effects of said drug on his patients, among numerous other things that I can barely comprehend, let alone believe, were going on in this city and the asylum."

A moment later the horses outside, pulling the Maria, cantered to a halt at the insistence of the constable driving them. "We're here, Inspector," said the constable and I stood up to open the back of the carriage before jumping out and turning to help the Doctor out as well. He ignored my offered hand and jumped down with the same ease as a healthy man. Sometimes I forget that his war wounds do not always bother him like he claims in his stories.

"Right then, you lot stay here," said I, taking immediate control over the constables that came pouring out of the two carriages I had brought for this raid. I do not know what to expect in the asylum so I did not wish to come unprepared in terms of manpower. For all I knew the entire staff could be in league with Ivanson. Hopefully it will just be the doctor and a couple orderlies that worked with the man.

I turned to face the stone masonry building once I was done issuing orders to my troops, to see in time Doctor Watson marching through the wide double doors of the hospital. "Doctor!" I shouted but he ignored me to continue through the doors. Irritated that he would not listen to me, I quickly called to Clarke and the rest of the men that would follow me inside and chased after the heels of the former army surgeon.

"I am here on official police business and you will release Mister Sherlock Holmes immediately!" growled the irate doctor to the receptionist that had the misfortune to be working this night and thus had to deal with my uncompromising companion. I placed an arm on his shoulder as I stepped up to the two and immediately the Doctor calmed down under my touch once he realized he had the official police force as backup at last.

"I am Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard," said I while producing the court order that would give me free reign throughout this hospital in search of Doctor Ivanson and his accomplices, not to mention to remove any surviving patients from the care of Bedlam. Though what I was going to do with them was beyond me. "I have a warrant for the arrest of Doctor Nicholai Ivanson and any individuals who have aided him in kidnapping, murder and illegal medical practices. Now we can do this the hard way or the easy way, it is up to you, Miss."

The lady sputtered in nervousness and nodded at my words before handing over a spare set of keys to the hospital. "Doctor Ivanson is with a patient that is currently undergoing electroconvulsive therapy."

"Which patient?!" my companion snapped the moment the receptionist had informed us of what Ivanson was doing. It was not that difficult for me to put two and two together and figure out which patient Ivanson was most likely electrocuting at this very moment.

"I... I do not know!" cried the woman behind the desk as she cowered back from my angry friend. "He only asked that the ECT chamber be prepared for a patient of his."

"Holmes..." breathed the Doctor and I hurried after him as he rushed through the glass doors and into the inner sanctum of the hospital.

I had no clue as to where we were going and hoped that Doctor Watson did. With several of my men behind me, I followed the near panicked friend of Mister Holmes up a flight of stairs and down several corridors until we came upon a locked door and he peered inside through the barred window.

"No... he's not here!" Watson exclaimed and I took a look for myself. There were signs that the cell had been occupied, the bed was rumpled and the chains were draped over it carelessly. But there was no sign of Mister Holmes anywhere inside. As Watson had concluded, the man was not here. "You!" I heard him shout behind me and I turned in time to see him manhandle one of the orderlies up against the stone wall. "Where is the ECT chamber?"

"It's... in the north wing on the basement floor!" cried the man in fearful panic. I could not blame the man for feeling terrified of Doctor Watson. The surgeon had a look in his eye that said he would kill any man that got in his way or harmed his friend further. Even I was feeling afraid, but not for myself, but for Ivanson and his men. I knew what the man was capable of whenever Mister Holmes found himself in a difficult and harmful situation. The Doctor was protective of his friend and I knew without a doubt that the former soldier would venture into Hell and back for the eccentric detective.

"Take us there, now!" he commanded and the orderly nodded helplessly before being shoved forward by the Doctor. "Quickly or so help me God if I find my friend dead, you will join him!"

I stepped up to the Doctor's side as the frightened man trotted ahead of us back down the corridor we had come. "Doctor..."

"If you're going to lecture me about threatening people, Inspector, you are wasting your breath," the Doctor said in a clipped tone that left little room for me to willingly argue with him. But that was not why I wanted his attention. I would gladly help him punish any of these blackguards if we found Mister Holmes gone from this world forever.

"No, Doctor," said I and scowled at the back of the orderly's head as he lead us across the hospital compound once we had reached the ground floor. "I wanted to say that we will reach Mister Holmes in time."

He glanced back at me for a moment and I could barely see a wary smile register on his face at the confidence I had boasted before him. We both knew that there was a good chance that we might not make it in time to save the detective from Ivanson's insanity.

Oh my Lord... Watson and Lestrade had better hurry in rescuing Holmes from Ivanson! Next up is Holmes turn and we'll get to see what exactly that mad doctor is doing to him! Just hold on, old boy, Watson is coming!