Disclaimer: Holmes and Watson belong to ACD. Other characters are mine. Geography is not correct for the purposes of the story.
Well, here are at the end of another case for the inestimable Mr Holmes and his trusty companion and biographer. But is the end of the case the end of them as well?
Chapter 8
The noise of the waves started to resound around the cave as it filled with water. The deep boom sound each time the waves struck the rocks outside seemed to correspond with Miss Wilcox's slow counting.
"Six."
"Miss Wilcox?" asked Holmes.
"Mr Holmes, what is it now?" she replied, clearly becoming more angry as the pain in her wounded arm grew.
"How did you get in here? There were no footprints outside."
"Holmes!" exclaimed Watson. "Do you not think that a better use of your skills would be made in working out how to save me?"
Holmes ignored him. "Miss Wilcox?"
"There is a smugglers' tunnel leading from this gallery to the surface. It comes out behind the old bothy up on the cliff. I can come and go in the dry."
"I thought as much."
"Seven."
"I do believe you have misconstrued my relationship with Watson, Miss Wilcox."
"Oh, of course I have, Mr Holmes."
"No, I mean it. Really, Watson's death would cause me no grief whatsoever." He ignored Watson's incredulous look, and continued, "You see, three years ago or so I found myself in London, alone, and needing to share the cost of accommodation. Watson was in a similar situation, surviving on the princely sum of 11/6d and he leapt at the chance of sharing rooms with me. I likewise condescended to 'put him up' as they say. No doubt he quickly saw how much he could learn from me, but all I needed was the money he brought – or rather, that part of his earnings that he did not squander on the horses. In truth I do not really know how he managed to become a doctor; but I will admit that his slowness has sometimes been useful to me, in that it has on occasion forced me to think more clearly about some proposed solution to a case. But on balance he has been a burden I will not miss."
"Holmes!" Watson exclaimed, shocked.
"Oh, do be quiet, Watson!" replied Holmes, twisting to look towards him. "If we are to die, can I at least ask that my final minutes are not spent pandering to your infuriatingly simple intellect? Miss Wilcox here, for all her scheming, is a far more intelligent person than you will ever be." He turned back to look at the woman. "So you see, there really is nothing to be gained by killing him first. I will not shed a tear. In fact, I think it would upset him more were you to dispatch me first. He seems to be more emotionally bound to me than I am to him."
"What does the good Doctor think?" she mused. "Shall I kill him first, then?"
Watson stared at Holmes in unbelief, but Holmes was looking to Miss Wilcox, not him. "I ... I don't know what to think any more," he said at last.
"Oh, this is wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Well, they do say that 'truth will out', don't they Mr Holmes? And in your dire strait you have certainly cleared the air on this matter. It will be good to kill you both knowing that you know where you stand in each others' esteem. Eight."
The water was still rising in the cave. It was now approaching the level of Watson's chest, and his desperation was starting to rise. The shock he had experienced at Holmes' words had now become a prevailing sense of depression. He watched as another ripple of water spread across the cave from behind him, the broken wave adding another half inch to the depth of water around them. He felt totally deflated and exhausted.
"Just end it," he said quietly.
"Pardon? I didn't quite hear that," Miss Wilcox replied gleefully.
"Kill me now. I don't want to hear any more."
"Not so easily, Doctor. I will give you the gift of time. I said I would count to ten, and I am good to my word. Just like the great Mr Sherlock Holmes, who always tells the truth, don't you, Mr Holmes?" Her voice was raising in intensity to make herself heard over the noise of the water. Then - "Do you hate him, Doctor?"
Watson was silent for a moment. Then he replied, sadly and quietly, "No. But I no longer like him."
"Oh well, that will have to do," she replied. "Nine."
"How could you, man?" he asked of Holmes.
"I intend to go to my maker with a clear conscience," replied Holmes. "I cannot bear falsehood. We have known each other for almost three years, and yet you don't know me at all."
"I did not know you felt so loathe of me."
"You had your uses. But things are said in the heat of the moment which on reflection should not be said," he continued emphatically. He faced Miss Wilcox. "Get on with it! Stop being so theatrical!"
She sighed, and raised the crossbow to her shoulder, but as she did so she grimaced with pain. "Ten." And then .... "No, I will take the one shot when I am ready and not before. Part of the fun, Mr Holmes, is seeing you helpless and bickering like two children. This has been most entertaining, not to say enlightening. I am sure the Doctor would agree."
"I am only thinking of your ability to satisfy your desire for revenge," he replied, calmly. "The tide is now getting to the fastest part of its incursion. I calculate that the water will reach Watson's face in four minutes. Watson, you see, will be dead first anyway soon. Then you can despatch me. I would much rather it be quick and easy for myself."
"Oh thank you so much," muttered Watson.
"I don't know, Mr Holmes, what irritates me most," she replied, getting to her feet. "Your arrogance, your smugness, your coldness, or just ... everything. Maybe that's it. Maybe it's just you. But on this occasion.... I think I will not give you what you desire." She raised the crossbow to her shoulder and lined up a shot for Watson's chest, now right at the water level. "Any last words?"
Watson looked across at Holmes. "I thought .... you would always get us out."
Holmes sighed slightly. "After all this time you think I can work miracles? Only One can do that. Sorry to disabuse you."
It all happened very quickly. From the mouth of the cave behind them a loud voice cried over the waves: "Stop, in the name of the Queen!"
A footstep was heard in the tunnel behind Miss Wilcox; she spun round to face a soldier who had made his way down the long stair quietly. The crossbow sang and he fell at her feet. From behind them, again, there was the sound of a command, and shots were fired into the cave, aimed at the ledge upon which she stood. Gun smoke filled the cave, but she turned and loaded another bolt even as they saw pieces of rock from the stone walls around her spray their debris over her as the bullets struck. She fired the crossbow again, and a scream from behind them indicated another would-be rescuer had been hit. But there was no more time; she looked at the two men one last time, blew Holmes a kiss, and then turned and disappeared up the stair from whence the soldier had issued.
"Mr Holmes!" Someone was shouting from behind them. "Can you make your way, Sir?"
"No, we are bound!" Holmes shouted back.
"Hold on!" the voice replied, and splashes were heard as they guessed one or more persons were in the water. Then - "It's no good, we can't get through!"
Another pause. "Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson, we will be a moment." "Not too long, I trust!" shouted Holmes.
Then the voice cried, "We have a craft, but need to blow the cave entrance open. One moment more! Cover your ears if you can!"
The water was up to Watson's chin now, but he couldn't have covered his ears in any event. The percussion of the explosion was physically painful, and the cave once again filled with smoke. Rocks fell on them from the roof of the cave, and an ominous rumbling was heard.
Water splashed into Watson's face and he felt himself going under. But almost within a moment they found a dinghy rowed between them, and their wire bonds cut. Rough hands pulled them out of the water and into the boat, gasping for breath and bringing them face to face with four soldiers. Rocks were still falling around them, and one indeed fell into the flimsy vessel, holing it, and water started pouring in. "Row!" shouted the coxswain, and the soldiers leant into their oars with all the effort they could muster.
Watson looked back, now realising what had happened. The soldiers had blown the loose rocks away from the mouth of the cave, but in so doing the cave itself was now collapsing.
A great confusion of noise and dust was rising around them, but the light they now saw was the light of day as they approached the cave entrance. Another rock landed in the boat, stunning one of the soldiers. Watson leapt into his spot before the oar was lost, and pulled with the others with all his might. He looked one last time into the cave as the roof finally collapsed - just for a moment the wall of stalactites and stalagmites down one side wavered, and then fell, in its last moments revealing a glimpse of something which took his breath away.
And then it was gone. The roar of rocks overwhelmed all other senses. The entire roof of the cave collapsed, and it was fortunate they were so close to the entrance, for the wave created by the collapse mounted up and then carried the boat clear of the destruction and out into the bay, like a cork popping out of a bottle.
Quickly they made the south side of the bay and drew the boat up onto the rocks before it completely sank. They looked back across to where they had been, and saw only a mighty cloud of dust which gradually settled on the water or was blown away out to sea. When they could at last see clearly, they saw that the whole end of the bay had been elongated by a good hundred feet; the path down from the village now ended not in a viewing point but in a sheer cliff, one hundred feet straight down, with a chaotic bed of rubble at its foot, over which the incoming tide was now breaking.
"Forgive me, Watson," said Holmes.
"Holmes?"
"For what I said in the cave. I was trying to buy time. I knew they were coming."
"I had indeed hoped that was the case," Watson replied. "You were very persuasive. You had me fooled, yet alone Miss Wilcox."
"I had to prolong the count until the soldiers had arrived. The lateness of their arrival was unexpected I must say – it was very close at the end."
"I suppose it is pointless me asking you how you had it all sorted out ...."
"When the Postmaster delivered the telegram, before we started our way down to the cave, I had already pre-arranged a sign with him – this was when I was in the Post Office earlier. He is a former policeman himself you know – very useful, very level headed. The telegram confirmed my suspicions on a number of points; so I gave him the signal. He immediately telegraphed the local military camp outside Boscastle – and they no doubt set off at a pace the rescue us. But, as I said, it was very close. I was as surprised to see the soldier coming down the tunnel as you were, though, old man." He grasped Watson's hand. "I really am most glad you are all right, Watson."
"Yes, Holmes, I am. Thank you."
They were shortly joined by the soldiers' commander. "Gardner at you service, Mr Holmes, Doctor," he introduced himself. "I apologise that we arrived a little later than we expected; the path down the cliff is steep and the boat was not easy to lift down by rope. But all is well, what?"
"We are most grateful," smiled Holmes. "Although you have lost two men, I see?"
"Yes, we have, and she will pay," Gardner replied. "Young Wilson, he's a local lad, and he seemed to remember an old tunnel he played in as a boy."
"Quickly, then," said Holmes. "We need to catch her. Never mind us, we are well, and will make our own way after you."
"Very well, sir," replied Gardner, saluting Holmes and then issuing orders as the soldiery made off. Watson and Holmes were left sitting on the rocks below the castle.
"Time for a climb, Watson," smiled Holmes, reaching out his hand to pull Watson to his feet.
"Holmes," said Watson, "before we start making our way up ... in the cave .... it sounds silly, I know ..."
"I did not mean a word of it, Watson, please believe me. It pained me to say it, but had I met your eye I would have been unable to keep up the pretence."
"No, I don't mean that," replied Watson with a smile, "although it is a relief to hear you say it. No, whilst I was in the boat, I was looking back into the cave, of course. As the last of it fell, I thought I saw ...."
"Yes...?" Holmes' voice was encouraging.
"As the curtain of crystal fell I thought I saw a throne. And on the throne was a figure...."
Holmes looked back at the still smoking rubble. "Well, whatever you saw, is now buried under fifty feet and untold tons of rock, Watson."
"Don't you think we should tell...?"
"Perhaps the stuff of legend is that it a mystery in and of itself," replied Holmes with a smile. "Leave it. Let it go." He took a deep breath. "But now, time for the off. And I think before making our way back to London, we should stop off at the Crown for a drink, don't you?"
"Miss Wilcox?"
Holmes was silent for a moment. "I do not think they will find her. She is a recluse. She knows how to hide. She will be long gone. But who knows," he concluded airily, "we may meet her again one day. At least we will know where we stand!"
THE END
