Home from Switzerland... Mary's words were a slap across the face, stealing the breath from me. How... how could my wife say such a thing – at this time, in this place! Had I not returned from Switzerland, in the midst of my guilt and grief? Had I not devoted myself to Mary since, tending to her every need, whilst working around the clock? Had I not fought off a pair of ruthless villains at our very door, then kept Mary with me as she had insisted, instead of sending her to Mrs. Forrester? What right had she now to accuse me of neglecting her, for Holmes of all people?!

Mary herself seemed equally shocked at the unguarded sentiment that had escaped, her cheeks as red as mine felt, tears finally spilling over. "John..."

I shook my head abruptly, turning to where Billy and Mrs. Hudson stood by the door, looking just as embarrassed. "You..." I cleared my throat and tried again. "You'd best be off, you three."

"Doctor..."

"Billy, go and find a cab, if you please," I continued coolly, ignoring Mrs. Hudson's stammering. "We're wasting time."

"Right-oh." Billy eyed me warily on his way out, a look I hadn't seen since... God, since Holmes had first sworn him into the Irregulars, in this very room...

Dear heaven, was this what Mary had meant? Was I so determined to prove myself worthy of being Holmes's colleague, I would thoughtlessly trample those with my best interests at heart? Billy's face just now, as if the man before him was someone he barely recognised, and didn't particularly trust... And to whom was I attempting to prove myself, really? Had I truly given Holmes up for dead... or was I still at the waterfall, shouting into the abyss and waiting desperately for my friend to answer, to tell me I hadn't failed him after all?

~0~

"Be careful, John!" Mary whispered, leaning back out of the cab.

"I will, love." I kissed her, trying to put everything into it that I still couldn't say aloud. I'll be home soon, Mary, I promise... but this is something I have to do. Avoiding eye contact with the other two, I closed the door firmly and handed double the usual fare to the driver. "Scotland Yard, as fast as you can."

With the cab out of sight, I headed straight for the back door again, pulling out my pocket knife. No need to wait for Sylvius in the cold and damp – Mrs. Hudson mercifully seemed to have forgotten about the spare key, hidden under a loose cobblestone beside the step... No! The key, where had it gone?! I swept the surrounding cobbles with groping fingers, peering through the murk, but found nothing, and the other stones all appeared undisturbed.

Damn! Who could have taken it? Mrs. Hudson was the obvious suspect, and it wouldn't be out of character, either, but with things as they were, I was much more inclined to think that somebody else had it... Which meant I would have no choice but to act as I had promised Mary: wait for Count Sylvius out here! Unless...

~0~

I all but fell over the sill into Holmes's old bedroom, lying motionless on the rug for a good five minutes to ease the trembling in my limbs, my freshly abused shoulder aching abominably. Chief among my thoughts was the dour reflection that Holmes had always made the climb look ridiculously easy – the man must have been part mountain goat! If that window catch hadn't already been broken... Coaxing the sash open from the outside had been hard enough with the wood so swollen.

What a difference a year could make, I mused as I gingerly massaged my shoulder. Strange to think how I had detested solving cases with Holmes in the winter – although I could very well appreciate why just at the moment! And now... I would have climbed the Himalayas to be at his side again... But this was hardly the time to remain sunk in reflection. I blew my nose hard, then set about easing myself up off the floor.

The house felt horribly empty as I re-entered the sitting room, which, I reminded myself sternly, was all for the best if I wished to take the enemy by surprise. I made one last painstaking tour of the room, ensuring that the place looked just as it had before my arrival, the tobacco slipper and pipe back in their positions on the mantel, then bathed my scraped and grimy hands before returning to the bedroom. The window blinds, the dark and the fog would give excellent cover for watching the street below.

~0~

Click.

I raised my head from the sill with a gasp, wincing as my neck protested. My God, how long had I slept? I could have boxed my own ears for being so careless! I stared down into the street, though the fog was too thick now to see much, even beside the back door... Oh no... Had I replaced the loose cobblestone before making the climb? I couldn't remember! And if Sylvius were to see that, he'd know for certain this was a trap! I was debating whether or not to open the window to get a better look, when a faint creaking noise from downstairs made my heart miss a beat. Who should know the music of that staircase better than I, having tried for years to reach the top undetected by Holmes? Sylvius was already inside, had just trodden on the left side of the fifth step, and would be at the upper landing in no time. I had never been less thankful that this chamber had two doors, because now I had to watch both with the corner of Holmes's wardrobe for cover, the weight of the revolver in my hand cool and reassuring – a far cry from that of the Koh-i-Noor!

Straining my ears for more creaks and groans, I was rewarded at last by the squeaky floorboard just inside the sitting room door. I had to grudgingly admit that Sylvius's reputation as a master thief was well deserved, the Count had the feathery tread of a cat! Patience now, just a few moments more and Sylvius would be at the fireplace! I trod as softly as I could to the door, took a deep breath as I grasped the handle, then yanked it open, revolver trained on the far side of the room and the shadowy figure crouched there.

"Good evening, Count, do forgive the mess. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" That is doubtless what I would have said... had I not felt the point of a knife at my back before I could utter a word.