Chapter V: "Mrs. Sherlock Holmes"
I was ready to begin my wonderful adventures with the Doctor. But first came the task of finding him. Only he could solve this. I had been destined to be with Mr. Holmes, but now I have found an even greater man. I don't deny that. Mr. Holmes was only Human. Honestly, I don't know if the same can be said for 'the Doctor'. And it is with this positive mindset that I set-upon finding him. But it was quite obvious where to look for him: the last place I'd seen him. Choosing to run away from Lestrade, I arrived at that same park I had seen him stride through only yesterday. It was a tough effort, but I managed to find the same spot where I'd been when the ladder began. It was purely from memory, but I was proud that I'd managed to do so. Or, at least, I thought I had, as I never got the chance to test this. I couldn't reach the ladder, myself, so I tried calling up, with cries of "Doctor!". I'd have preferred not to, as it did attract something of attention toward me. And mostly, because I was taken from the park by a new character in this tale.
Her name is Jenny Flint, apparently. Early twenties. She knew the Doctor, as did her Madame, Vastra. It falls to me now to tell you that Vastra is definitely the strangest case I've encountered. Indeed, this is the most intriguing aspect of this adventure.
'Madame' Vastra is not Human. Instead she is lizard woman from the dawn of time. And is married to Jenny. And that's all I'll say of the matter. According to Vastra, her species, the Silurians (scientifically known as homo reptilia) occupied this planet thousands of years before Humanity. But they went into hibernation to avoid their vision of the Apocalypse, which was in-fact the Moon beginning to orbit the Earth. She was awoken by the construction of the Underground, and now lives at 13 Paternosta Row with her...wife, Jenny. This would make her at least one and a half million years old, by my calculations. (Not Mr. Holmes', who has a practical, but limited, knowledge of geology.)
They had become aware of my association with the Doctor and Ms. Flint had finally found me. Vastra needed the information I'd acquired to further her own investigation. The Doctor didn't help people. According to Vastra, he'd retired after losing his closest friend. They helped him, but weren't satisfied with his current apathy. The three of them had become a consulting detective agency all on their own. The three of them being Vastra, Ms. Flint and Strax, the stubby henchmen from the cab during my first encounter with the Doctor, who was now distancing himself from any future relationships.
Vastra was a deep green colour, with scales. How you might expect a lizard woman to look. Over the years, I've encountered many strange things that first seemed unexplained. But as a person already familiar with the Snowmen, nothing new could surprise me. Not at this point, anyway.
But this is where our narrative takes a - shall we say..."mysterious"? - turn. I told Vastra my name, John Watson, and her face clearly was taken-aback. She tried to hide it, I could tell. But Mr. Holmes' effect had rubbed-off on me. I knew. I just knew. For some reason, I was significant. At this stage, I was not prepared to wonder why. One question at a time. It was, I'll admit, an extra potential case, but it was something I'd save for later. Once this adventure had ended, then I could ponder the extra threads.
Her methods were different to others I'd seen. She gave me the one word test; asking me a question in exchange for one word as my answer. She believes truth is singular, whereas lies are infinite. She impressed me very much, it was a joy to watch her at work. I could tell she knew this, though it was probably in a way that wasn't good. Then she asked me to ask the Doctor why he should help me, in a single word. I honestly believe this was my greatest challenge I've faced as an amateur detective.
But I ultimately did find the word. I knew, if I could create a vague, yet intriguing reason for him to investigate the pond, he'd understand what was going-on. Thusly, that is the word I chose:
pond.