Chapter Five:

Kathryn…

It was the beginning of the new year of 1891 when she received the anonymous letter, instructing her that if she needed the chemicals for her research, she would need to first dispose of Professor Moriarty. Staring at the letter in disbelief, she quickly thought of whom she knew that would have any inclination of where Professor Moriarty was located and how in the world they would suggest to dispose of him.

Then, coming to an idea, she brought a sheet of paper to her and quickly made out a telegram to her sister, begging for her help. For the past three years, Kathryn had positioned herself as Mary Morstan and wife of Dr. John H. Watson, the close and intimate friend of Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Occasionally, Kathryn would have need to call on her sister, Elizabeth, who was an exact copy of herself to take her place and act in her place as Mary Watson. Now was one of those instances. Therefore, she wrote to Elizabeth and nearly begged her sister to come to London from Midhurst to pose as her so she could spend her time following Mr. Holmes and watching him as his neighbour, Kathryn Bennet, which she still was.

Two days later, Kathryn received a reply from her sister: "You have my help. —E.B." Breathing a sigh of relief, she quickly devised how she could meet her sister without Dr. Watson's knowledge. But her sister came without waiting for any instructions. For the next day, she received a wire from her sister: "At Victoria. Come quickly. —E.B." Making some excuse along the lines of making a visit to a dear friend to her husband, Kathryn left her husband's home and took a hansom to the Train Station at Victoria to meet her sister.

Elizabeth entered the hansom without waiting for an invitation to do so. She sat beside Kathryn and asked, "What is this all about?"

After giving the instruction to the driver, Kathryn simply said, "I need you to take my place for a while. I don't know how long this will take me, which is the only problem."

The two sisters discussed the situation as the hansom rattled through London's streets. Kathryn explained certain habitual things that happened in her husband's household, and some of her personal habits that needed to be performed otherwise Dr. Watson would think something was amiss. If Elizabeth followed everything Kathryn told her to the letter, nothing could go wrong. After a short time, the hansom came to a stop and the driver opened the trap door and said, "219 Baker Street, ma'am."

"Thank you," Kathryn said, handing some money up to him as Elizabeth climbed out. Following her sister, Kathryn took a key from her pocket and unlocked the door to the house next-door to Sherlock Holmes, who was not at home at the present time. As far as Kathryn knew, he was on a short leave for a bit of rest and relaxation. She ushered Elizabeth into the empty house and into the bedroom. "Quickly, we haven't much time," she said, taking off her dress and handing it to her sister. Elizabeth did the same, then put on Kathryn's dress as Kathryn put on one from the wardrobe in the bedroom.

"How do you wear this dress?" Elizabeth asked, trying to do up the buttons in the back. "It seems more restricting that you would let it."

Kathryn sighed. "Come here," she said. She did up the buttons properly and sat her sister in the chair in front of the vanity. "You haven't cut your hair, have you?" she inquired, taking the pins out of Elizabeth's hair.

"No."

"Good," Kathryn said, combing out Elizabeth's hair and pinning it back up into the exact style hers was in at the moment. Then she bent and rested her chin on Elizabeth's shoulder. The sisters looked into the mirror and saw two identical faces peering back at them. "This is almost unnerving…" The clock in the hall struck the hour. "You must hurry," Kathryn said. "Here's my coat and gloves and hat. Dr. Watson will be expecting you soon for tea. Good luck, and remember everything I told you." Kathryn escorted her sister to the front door.

Before Elizabeth left, she turned to Kathryn and hugged her. "Do be careful, Kate," she said. "Don't get yourself killed. I enjoy being you for a little while, but I don't think I could do it for the rest of my life."

"You could if you fall in love with Dr. Watson," Kathryn said absently. "Now, go." She closed the door behind Elizabeth and sighed. Passing through the sitting room, she nonchalantly looked out the window. What she saw made her stop short in her steps. Mr. Sherlock Holmes had just passed by Elizabeth and stopped her for a moment to say hello. Then he turned to continue down the walk. Kathryn hadn't expected him to return home until the next day, and she silently prayed that he wouldn't stop by her home to see how she was. To her dismay, he turned up her walk instead of continuing to his own home. Kathryn quickly ran to her bedroom, unpinned her hair, brushed it out, pinned it up in a different fashion, and applied a little colouring to it, altering it from the blonde to a light brown. She had just added the colouring when she heard Mr. Holmes ring the bell. Quickly putting on a particular necklace, she became Kathryn once again, rather than Mary Watson.

"Mr. Holmes," she said, upon opening the front door for him. "What a pleasant surprise! I did not expect your home until tomorrow."

He examined her. "I suppose I decided to cut my trip short, Miss Bennet," he said. "May I come in?"

"Yes, of course," she said, standing aside for him to enter. Closing the door, she carefully watched him. "Was there something you needed?" she asked, following him into her sitting room.

He turned to her. "Have I ever mentioned how remarkably you look like Mrs. Watson?" he asked her.

"No, I don't think so," she said. "Please, sit."

Mr. Holmes sat in one of the chairs beside the silent fireplace. Kathryn took the other. "How have you been, Miss Bennet?" he asked her, watching her carefully.

"The same as when you last asked me, Mr. Holmes," she replied, hoping for a casual manner. "It's been rather quiet as of late on Baker Street during your absence. I trust you enjoyed your trip?"

"Yes, it was very pleasant," he said, still watching her carefully.

Kathryn was beginning to get a little uncomfortable. "Where did you go?" she asked.

"Midhurst, West Sussex," he said, chilling Kathryn. "While I was there, I saw a young lady, not many years older than yourself, who looks almost exactly like you. Do you possibly know who she might be?"

Thinking quickly, Kathryn said, "Could you describe her? I have some family who in Midhurst. She could be a cousin or one of my sisters."

Mr. Holmes leaned back in his chair, and placed his fingertips together under his chin. "She stood about your height," he said thoughtfully. "Her hair was long, usually unpinned, and brown. But the shape of her face and person was exactly your shape, if you don't mind me saying so."

"By all means," she said. "Use whatever you wish to describe her. She sounds like she could be my sister, Mary."

"Mary," Mr. Holmes repeated. "Speaking thus, I passed Mrs. Watson on my way to your home. She appeared to have stopped by for a visit."

Kathryn's voice caught in her throat for a brief moment. "Uh, yes, she did," she said. "She and I have become dear friends, and I enjoy her visits every so often."

He nodded. "Have you met her husband, Dr. Watson?" he asked. "He used to room with me next-door."

"No, I don't believe I have had the pleasure," she said, hoping that with that, Mr. Holmes would leave her in peace. The clock in the hall chimed the half-hour.

"Is that the time?" Mr. Holmes asked, standing. "I'm afraid I must go. Thank you for your time, Miss Bennet. I will see myself out." He nodded a bow to her, then left the room. Presently, Kathryn heard the front door open and close. She crossed to the window and watched as Mr. Holmes walked to his own home next door.

Kathryn sat bolt up in bed. She had just dreamed about one of her last few encounters with Sherlock Holmes. The time was extremely nerve-wracking for her. Mr. Holmes was a master of observation and deduction, and she was almost certain he knew she wasn't who she said she was half the time. She rubbed her face and slid out of bed. Walking to the vanity, she sat and examined her features in the flickering candlelight. She had taken to not dying her hair blonde and left it light brown, and her eyes had begun to collect dark circles under them. She was getting tired. Very tired.

She picked up one of her instruments of peculiar murder and examined it. It was one of the more worn ones. It looked like a normal bread knife, but opening the handle, one would find a vial that would insert poison into the bread it sliced, making it an innocent little method of murder. She had used it frequently, inserting small amounts of poison into her victims' bloodstream through their food, a little at a time. Over time, usually ten insertions, the poison would be enough and the victim would die in their sleep, as a result of their heart suddenly stopping. Kathryn opened the wooden handle, and disengaged the small vial that held the poison until she pressed the small, almost invisible, button to release it. Turning the vial in her hands, she pondered it. Shaking it near her ear, she could hear fluid rushing about in it. "Oh, gods…" she whispered. Dropping the bread knife to the floor, she ran out of her quarters with the vial in hand.