Chapter Notes: Let me point out some things right quick before we get into this rather short chapter.
This project's name says it all, this is a story of Doctor John Watson and Scotland Yard. If you want a story with Holmes and Watson you might want to consider ALL of the other projects that are out there.
My version of Holmes is true to ACD's, a cold calculating fount of logic and facts completely (and deliberately I might add) devoid of most human emotions. Yes he is friends with Watson, but he doesn't understand why, he just came back from three years feigning death so Watson in spite of ACD's flawed work is not feeling exactly trusting and snuggly to Holmes at the moment. These are Victorian gentlemen so out pourings of affection and emotion are OC!
At least that us how it is going to be in this work. Also bear in mind that this is a plot arch, Holmes and Watson do eventually restore some affection and repair some part of their relationship and go on to have many more adventures together but this is in the thick of things.
rant over...let the defections begin.
Okay for those of you who are left and willing to hang in there with me enjoy!
Bart
Doctor John Watson, Police Surgeon: Scotland Yard 5
One Last War
Chapter Five
Lest you think me addled, or fatalistic, I feel I need to make a defence of my following Watson on that day.
Yes, it is true that Moran was head of a lethal cabal whose scope we had no way of knowing. Yes, this same man was responsible for the deaths of at least three men in my experience up to that point. Yes, he had ready and able killers in his employ that would most likely bear Watson ill will.
Yes...I should probably stop there...
---
Lestrade took the declaration in stride.
"So we are intentionally allowing Moran's men to abduct us and take us to an undisclosed location. Without any support or backing I am to presume?"
Watson smiled. "You are correct. You do trust me, don't you Giles?"
Lestrade let out a weary sigh. "Of course I trust you...but have you gone mad?"
"If I had, would I be aware?" Watson remarked with a smirk.
"Where to, gents?" the cabby called down with a slight accent that Lestrade could not place.
Lestrade gave his home address. "If I am to die it will be in comfortable clothing with my wife's cooking in my belly."
"Now that is the spirit," Watson remarked with a sly grin.
Lestrade and Watson sat in silence; Lestrade was silently debating his further involvement thinking of Clea, when Watson spoke.
"If you wish to stay at your home, safe, I would not think less of you," Watson said quietly in a sincere tone.
Lestrade turned to him with curious eyes. "Why me, John, why not Holmes, he is alive and available now and far suited for a foolhardy rush into the jaws of uncertainty. He will be the first to tell you that I am an unimaginative functionary, a paper pusher who is more of a political entity than officer and have been for some time."
Watson studied his friend to judge his seriousness. "I chose you because if my plans are to come to fruition I need someone who will trust me absolutely, will follow my instructions and my lead. I have no doubt that I was Moran's stalking horse to draw Holmes out, but I am no decoy, a fact of which Moran is unaware."
"Moran and Holmes are playing their game, using you as just another chess piece, so Moran will underestimate the danger you pose, too busy watching Holmes for his next move," Lestrade replied seeing the implications.
Watson's knuckles were white on the head of his cane. "I will not lie to you, this game we are playing is extremely dangerous, it is vital that I have someone on which I can rely. At this juncture, I know you far better than Holmes..."
He turned to Lestrade his eyes holding a strange light, which Lestrade could not read. "My best opportunity to survive this night lies with you, I need you to trust that things are not as dire as they appear, I can tell you no more."
Lestrade smirked. "Because I am far too honest a man to lie effectively, my lack of expression gives me away every time?"
Watson rolled his eyes. "Damn it, Holmes!"
---
They disembarked at Lestrade's humble abode. Watson slipped a bill to the cabby, asking him to return in two hours, while Lestrade went to head off his wife and inform her of company.
After she answered the door and heard his explanation, she gave Lestrade a rather frightening look that he was placing her in such a position, and then she glanced over his shoulder to see Watson mounting the stairs. "Oh, hullo John." She suddenly slapped Lestrade on the arm hard enough to cause him to wince. "Why didn't you just say John Watson was coming over?"
"Sorry, Clea, I hope it's not too much of an imposition," Watson remarked as he passed a red-eared Lestrade with a chuckle.
"Never for you, now wash up," she ordered as he passed. She turned back to her husband and gave him a saucy wink. "It is a sorry thing that you brought an extra man home, I was looking forward to removing that uniform meself."
She sashayed back into the house as Lestrade let out a sigh and pulled out his suddenly hot collar.
"Damn it, Watson," he moaned as he went to change.
Clea showed her usual restraint after they ate she shooed them out of the kitchen to the sitting room to talk while she cleaned up. Lestrade kissed her cheek as a silent thank you for being so understanding. "Git," she replied with a smile.
Lestrade, dressed in a favourite suit and feeling more himself, pulled out two of the cigars from the humidor that he had been saving for such an occasion. "I hate not being able to tell her that I might not make it home," he remarked as he handed the other to Watson.
Watson lit it puffing with a content look on his face. "This is good, and you have my word, you will return home."
Lestrade gave him a dubious glance while he lit his own. "How are you so sure that we will be abducted so soon after the last attempt?"
Watson studied the cigar as he formulated his response. "If I've read Moran correctly, not an exact science I must admit, he is pulling up stakes and moving his operation. The earlier attack on me reeked of desperation and impatience, two things which he has not been to date."
"That whole affair with the impostor took months to plan and execute," Lestrade mused, "finding James alone would have taken months."
Watson nodded. "You are getting the picture; something has caused Moran to rush his play, the re-emergence of Holmes, for instance."
"The Diogenes Club may be ready to move, that information that they took from James's trunk was enough to dismantle the organization," Lestrade reminded Watson. "However, you did fail to mention how you can expect Moran to know our travel plans."
Watson's eyes picked up a twinkle as he replied, "they will know, because I told them."
He waited patiently for Lestrade to process the information, then chuckled when his friend startled. "You know who the mole in Scotland Yard is!"
Watson nodded, his eyes suddenly going grave. "We will settle with that gentleman when this is over, for now just be content that I have some manner of control in this matter."
Lestrade gave his friend a considering look. "I thought Holmes lamented that you have no talent for deception."
Watson smiled slyly. "Did he now? I might have written a negative when he meant a positive; I am a dreadful duffer when it comes to the small details."
"Such as, just how involved you have been in the solving of his cases?" Lestrade remarked with a grin.
"Perhaps," Watson replied shifting with a wince showing his bruised back was a bigger bother than he was letting on.
Clea stepped into the room carefully making sure she did not over hear anything, she was wiping her hands in her apron. "The cab has returned, should I be expecting ya back tonight, Giles?"
He exchanged a glance with Watson that told him what he needed to know.
"I will return on the morrow, if you wish to visit the Bradstreet's, I would not be opposed," he informed attempting to keep the worry out of his eyes, he need not have bothered.
She turned to Watson. "Bring him home safe, or not even the afterlife will hide you."
"You have my vow, dear lady," he replied.
She nodded and received her husband's embrace, which he held onto little more than was prudent, and then they left her nervously tidying up.
---
The trip to King's Cross station was one of tension and silence.
The cabby took a circuitous path to get there. On occasion Watson would lean enough to see behind and after a few times, he leaned back in the seat with a content smile. He raised his cane and tapped the ceiling as some sort of signal and the cabby eased into main traffic taking a more direct route.
They disembarked in the milling throng, Watson slipped the cab driver an extra quid for his contribution, and they joined the inflowing crowd.
"I'll buy the tickets, where did you say we were going?" Lestrade inquired stepping ahead of his friend.
"They will expect Cambridge, because of my schooling, so I told them Leeds," Watson replied his eyes scanning the crowd.
"Make that Colchester for three, Chief Inspector, and be very careful," stated a large, dark eyed, well dressed man who slipped up behind Watson, he had a folded coat over his arm concealing his hand which he nudged into Watson's side, Lestrade read in his friend's eyes that there was a gun under there. Obediently, Watson slid his own pistol out of his coat and into the man's grasp.
When Lestrade's turn came at the ticket booth, he bought three for Colchester in Essex.
"Still digging out from the quake?" Watson remarked to the stranger making conversation as they made to board the Great Eastern Line.
"Nice and deserted," the assailant replied.
"Splendid," Watson replied as his eyes met Lestrade's, and to the inspector's annoyance, the bastard was smiling.
Story Notes: This is my version of Empty House, the way I look at fiction is as a living breathing entity which has veins and skeleton and flesh and muscle and nerve, I believe that you must weave plot so that it is integral to what you are doing. I will not reveal all I know until later on, so try not to speculate about the entire picture while just looking at one color on the canvas. Feel free to review concerning this individual chapter but know that this all comes out somewhere and I think you will be pleased. If you knew where I am headed right now...why keep reading? I quote Watson in this chapter.
"For now just be content that I have some manner of control in this matter."
So hang in there with me a few more chapters, you have come with me this far why stop trusting me now because Holmes is elsewhere? He has been elsewhere the previous four installments and you were having a good time then! Right?
thanks!
Bart
