My Story Ends

"Of course there's more to the story than that," I concluded. "There's the story of how Dawson and I worked out our differences to the extent that I made him my associate. Then there's the anecdote of how Holmes reacted when he found my cap, which I had carelessly left in the middle of the floor."

"How is it you didn't know you were getting bandaged after you fought Ratigan?" Fidget asked.

"Apparently, I went into shock. At least that's what Dawson claims. I, for one, don't believe it. I, Detective Basil of Baker Street, go into shock?! The idea is utterly absurd."

"When I hear you describe the fight, it's almost too much!" Flaversham exclaimed. "I was Ratigan's victim! You didn't have to be! You took my place! And you almost gave your life for my daughter!"

"Do save the sentimentality, Flaversham," I responded.

Robert turned to the other prisoners. "This is probably the last time we'll all be together like this. Some of us are going to be released from prison shortly while others remain for quite a while. Those who never went to prison will be leading their own lives, having no time for the rest of us. We're no longer Ratigan's gang plagued by a detective because we're holding hostages; we're all either prisoners or respectable citizens. Years will pass without any of us speaking to each other, and then we'll all die of old age, and history will forget us."

"I admire your optimism, Robert!" Lewis remarked sarcastically.

"If we never have a chance to come together like this again, I want to live the rest of my life knowing I once had the chance to do this!"

"To do what?" Henry asked.

Robert whispered something to the other henchmen.

Bill laughed. "What an excellent idea! You want in on it, Fidget, for old times' sake?"

"I have a feeling I don't," Fidget answered.

Henry shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Before I could protest, Ratigan's former henchmen seized me and spun me around while singing. I recognized the tune, but this time, instead of using the words "Oh, Ratigan!" they changed the phrase to "Oh, Basil!" If I recall the song correctly, it described cases I had solved, ending with "To Basil, the world's greatest sleuth!" It was an incredibly humiliating experience for me, but they relished every second.

"You didn't get to share much of your life story!" Dawson remarked after we had returned home. "You shared some, but those fiends kept interrupting! No one ever got to hear the details of your former cases or what your family life was like when you were a child or…"

"Should not a detective's life story maintain an air of mystery?" I asked. "Besides, I sincerely believe there was absolutely no need for my narration."

"Don't you want to be remembered next century?"

"Doctor, no one in the twenty-first century will know or care that I ever existed."