From BookRookie12: "Are you happy?"
"Happy?"
Chester Hale peered down at me in that cold, curious way of his. It was rather unnerving, how the tilt of his expression recalled Moriarty to my mind- No, this was a man of lesser genius, although formidable in his own right. But by that darkest of points in the encounter I had stopped caring about such things. I had thought the Professor would be the one to do me in, should we ever encounter each other in more than passing.
But it seemed that Hale would be the cause of my downfall, and his agent a fast moving train.
"I should not be happy until I have retired to some villa on a coast, with my studies, never to be bothered by the mundane populous again." He said this in the same voice one would use to comment on the weather. Might as well have said he would only be happy if it stopped raining. I would be less uncomfortable, but by that time no weather would have brought me cheer.
Hale had retrieved his umbrella once more, for all the good it did him. We were both soaked to the bone. My legs were muddier for being dragged through the grass but neither of us had escaped. One of my shoes was lost somewhere between here and the station. I should have torn him to pieces when I had the chance.
"You'll be far less happy in the dock." I said. "Scotland Yard is already on your track. Adding another murder to the list will do you no good."
Hale kept peering at me, conveying nothing. "They will have a harder time of it, with their top bloodhound run down. No, Mister Holmes, I don't imagine an outcome of this little adventure where I lose. It is an hour or so still before the next train but… You would have to be every bit the wizard your reputation suggests to avoid it."
He was right, though I had hopes of freeing myself after he left. Hale did not seem like the sort to bother with waiting around to see my demise in person. Especially now that we were both drenched and miserable. Most of all, he sought comfort and luxury for himself. He wouldn't waste any more time than he had to.
"It is a pity. I do regret that our paths have crossed. It may gratify you some to know that I take no pleasure in adding murder to my record. Unofficial though it will be, I am no happier for that at least."
"And that is such a kindness!" I fear I lost my temper somewhat. "Why should I be unappreciative of your efforts, sir, they have only cost a life-!"
Hale only blinked at me, as if I were a laboratory specimen. "You will not forgive me of course, nor would I think to ask it of you. I simply wished to say, before I left, that it was no personal attack. You needed to be stopped in order for me to escape. And I harbored no desire to harm your late doctor-"
I am not one to lose my head in fits of temper. On occasion I have taken my frustration out on objects in the sitting room, or vocalized some dissatisfaction with the events occurring. Few remarks I make in this vein are directed at others. And the opposite end of the range is the same. I should not weep for an unalterable tragedy as it would do nothing for the victims and less for those still in danger. That is not to say I do not feel. It is folly to argue with facts and truth. Simply put, outward displays of emotion do little for me, and I do not see the benefit in performing solely to satisfy the expectations of others. My moods, when I have them, are genuine and expressed as they are. It rather suits me that they are few and mostly mild. I do not consider myself a volatile person on whole.
That being said, there are things I simply cannot abide. I respect cleverness in a person, be they criminal or otherwise. I appreciate originality. But I will not tolerate injustice. Perhaps my ideas of law and order do not strictly coincide with those written down but there is right and wrong. Mankind is capable of knowing the difference. Those who would ignore or inflict brutality and suffering for their personal gain… I will not endure it.
"My objection-" I began in a fury unlike any I had experienced for some time, "-is not with your intent, but your actions! It does not matter in the least whether you intended harm. Harm was done! That is irrevocable!" I had remained somewhat subdued due to a blow to the head when we had fought earlier, but Hale's weapon had been lost and he had no other readily available. I struggled against my bonds and felt a little give between my arm and the railroad track even as I stared him down.
"And I asked, Hale, if you were happy because I will do anything in my power to ensure it is the last happiness you taste. You may run to your villas and studies but so long as there is breath in my lungs I will hunt you with the intent of putting an end to it!"
I managed to wrench one wrist free and he took a step back. He could manage to secure me again, but he knew I was eager to see him try it. Whatever non-feelings he associated with our violent quarrel were not reciprocated. His best option was to run. To run, and to pray.
Alas, my arm was still pinned at the elbow or I would have made quicker work of it. Whatever could be said for Hale's temperament, he was thorough in his method. It seemed he was also to gain his wits before I gained any more mobility. He remembered his umbrella, and began retracting it in order to wield against me. I was tearing at the knot over my midsection and cared little for the obstacles that stood between me and his demise. I snarled from the bonds holding my torso just as Hale took his umbrella by the tip and raised it.
"Stop right there! Drop that umbrella or I'll shoot!"
We both froze, stunned. Neither of us had expected to be joined on the railroad track. Let alone by my dear friend.
"I'm warning you, Hale. Step back."
Shocked, he complied. The umbrella hit the mud and we both stared at the top of the hill where Watson stood, as muddy and wet as either of us. I quickly regained my presence of mind and finished freeing myself. Hale's ropes were turned against him, and I made sure he would not escape again.
Watson started sliding down the hill towards us, one hand on his revolver and the other out for balance. Never have I been so thrilled by such an uncoordinated effort and I doubted I would be afterwards. But I had no complaints for the moment. I pushed Hale over into the grass and ran to meet my friend.
"Watson! You never cease to surprise me, old fellow! I must ask though, what would you have done with that dripping revolver had Hale not stopped?"
Watson blinked at me. From the ground, our prisoner groaned with the realization.
"I… that is, I think…"
"Well, you've been resourceful thus far. I'm sure you would have thought of something. But I have one more question. How it is you've…"
"Yes, Holmes?"
"How did you fall from a moving train, survive, and manage to track the pair of us here?"
He looked as if someone had put him through the ringer, to be sure. But I was at a loss. The area of track we had been going over was perched on the edge of a ravine. Even at a low speed, he would have been hard-pressed to avoid injury.
Watson managed to smile without looking pleased. "It was pure luck, Holmes. By the time I reached the ravine, it had been flooded. The water was freezing, but it pushed me closer to the station faster than I would have come by foot. Once I finally managed to reach a bank, the train had already come and gone." He gave me a wry grin. "Fortunately someone left me a clue."
He reached into his sopping jacket and pulled out my shoe.
"I daresay you'll be happier with two."
I threw back my head and laughed. "Yes, Watson, I think I will."