Previously:
As soon as we were alone, Marypulled herself from my arms and gazed at me knowingly. "You and Sherlock have some sort of plan in place, I take it? I know that must have been a code, what he said before he left," she added, proving yet again just how admirable and intelligent a woman I had married. "And you are both as unharmed as you seem to be, in spite of your alarming appearance? I knew of the bombing," she added in the same breath, her worry for me brimming in her eyes. "Mr. Moriarty took a great deal of delight in describing his plans to, as he put it, 'catch your attention'."
I nodded and reassured her further, then swept her into my arms for a final kiss. "Lestrade's men?" I asked when I was able to tear myself from her.
"Unconscious and tied up in the cellar along with the maid and cook," Mary replied succinctly. "I shall release them and we shall all leave the premises, the servants to their own homes and myself along with the guards to Scotland Yard," she announced. "As for Dr. Hooper, apparently she and Sherlock concocted a scheme to be implemented as soon as you'd left her here, wherein I and the guards would act as decoys to keep Moriarty's attention focused on the wrong location. I do not believe he expected him to manage to overpower Lestrade's men," she hastened to add as I felt anger suffuse my features, "or else he never would have done so. You know that, John; he and I have not always seen eye to eye, but you know he would never deliberately put me or our child in harm's way."
I knew no such thing, but allowed her words to placate me, at least for the moment. Once the current crisis had been averted, however, he and I were going to have words. "I must go to where he's hidden Dr. Hooper, and alert Lestrade so that he can have his men in place while Sherlock leads Mr. Moriarty on a merry chase around London," I announced. Mary persuaded me to wait just long enough to don a clean coat and wash the worst of the soot from my face, and then I was off to fetch Dr. Hooper from her hiding place in the storm drains beneath Parliament.
Holmes and I had worked out the code after our last adventure together, when Moriarty had come out of the shadows to directly confront my friend and, albeit temporarily, effect his death. If Holmes ever were to say to me 'Watson, the married man' then I should know that something – or, in this case someone – was waiting for me in the drains beneath Parliament, where Lord Blackwood had set his diabolical device meant to kill hundreds of lawmakers in order to further his scheme to take over England. The murderous contraption had been dismantled and carted away by Holmes' elder brother, Mycroft, to some undisclosed location for further study. Although I felt there were enough devices of war out there as it was, I could understand the government's need to seek out ways to nullify such if they were to be used against us.
Such musings occupied my mind while I engaged a hack and then one of Holmes' river rat acquaintances to bring me to my destination and extract Doctor Hooper from her hiding place. She had been instructed to reveal herself only if I arrived unaccompanied, and I was grateful that the boat's owner had refused to leave his vessel and insisted he would await my and the young lady's arrival.
"Doctor Watson," the lady in question greeted me when I announced my presence and several minutes had passed in silence before she came into view. "Forgive the skullduggery, but Mr. Holmes insisted…"
I waved away her apologies, relieved to see that she was, indeed, none the worse for wear. "And your wife, is she well?" she asked anxiously as I explained what had happened after Holmes had sent her to this noxious sewer to await further developments. I was most impressed that the lady had gone willingly, and unaccompanied by anyone other than the self-same boatman who had delivered me here to retrieve her. Nor did she show any signs of anxiety at either her location – not so different from her usual place in the morgue, granted – or at having been left alone whilst a madman searched her out in order to kill her. Her pluck and determination were well worthy of admiration, and if I had not already witnessed Holmes' interest in her, I would have undoubtedly engaged my dear wife to assist me in some scheme to throw them together!
We returned to the boat without incident, each filling the other in on our time apart. Molly's sense of humor tended somewhat to the morbid, which personality quirk would no doubt further add to her appeal as far as my moody, unconventional friend was concerned.
Once we were on the river and headed back to the shore where I had first boarded the small vessel, however, my thoughts were driven away from such pleasant trivialities and back to the brutal reality we still faced. Holmes had deliberately put himself in harm's way in order to decoy James Moriarty the younger away from Mary and Doctor Hooper. And even though the good doctor had informed of the location to which Holmes intended to eventually bring the madman – London Bridge, still not entirely constructed and the site of the demise of the late, unlamented Lord Blackwood – I still held grave reservations as to the eventual outcome of my friend's predicament.
I did not express those reservations aloud, of course, not wishing to further alarm the lady, but was forced to remonstrate with her when she voiced her determination to accompany me to the site of the inevitable confrontation. "Miss Hooper!" I exclaimed, strong emotion causing me to temporarily neglect the use of her proper title. "Surely you have no desire to place yourself anywhere near your former fiancé, when we have all gone to so much trouble to keep you away from him!"
"I cannot sit idly by and wait for you or Mr. Holmes – or worse, some random policeman! – to tell me the outcome of this meeting!" she replied with a great deal of spirit, her brown eyes flashing with annoyance in a way that struck me as exceedingly familiar. Holmes had looked at me thus many times – and I daresay he'd seen the same look in my own eyes on far more occasions. "It directly affects me, Doctor Watson," she continued, placing a slight but noticeable emphasis on my title, an indirect chastisement that I well deserved. "And perhaps if he sees me, then Thomas – I mean James – might make some slight error that will give you and Mr. Holmes some small advantage. After all," she concluded, driving her point home with a sad smile, "it is me and me alone he seeks; he might be an attempted murderer, but thus far he has been scrupulous in not causing any secondary casualties in his single-minded pursuit of my humble self."
I could find little in her words to dispute, and so I bowed to the inevitable – at least for the moment. I silently vowed to find a moment to put a word in Lestrade's ear when we reached Scotland Yard, imploring the man detain Doctor Hooper with my wife while we hastened to reach London Bridge before Holmes and his captor arrived.
We arrived without incident, Doctor Hooper springing to the pavement from the cab while I paid the driver, too impatient to wait for me to hand her down as propriety demanded. I understood her haste, having felt it myself, along with anxiety that I see for myself that Mary had safely arrived while I was away. Upon announcing ourselves at the front desk, we were immediately ushered to Lestrade's cramped, dingy office, where he waited impatiently by the door for our arrival. I ignored him, however, in favor of rushing to my wife's side and taking both her hands in mine when I saw her seated in one of the two small chairs in front of the inspector's desk.
"I am well, John," she said with a smile as she squeezed my hands before releasing them. "Now inform the inspector of Mr. Holmes' whereabouts so that you may seize this diabolical bomber and prevent him from doing further damage!" Her gaze drifted over my shoulder, and I understood her to be looking at Doctor Hooper.
"Yes, Watson, do get on with it," Lestrade said impatiently. However, when I attempted to first extricate our two selves from his office in order to speak with him in private, I was foiled by both my wife and Doctor Hooper exclaiming at us not to leave them in the dark.
"This directly affects me, Inspector, as I have already pointed out to Doctor Watson," the young lady said, while my wife nodded vigorous agreement. I sensed that the two of them had already formed what might eventually become a formidable bond of friendship between them, and knew my own desires in this matter to have been entirely discounted by their show of unity.
Lestrade muttered something under his breath about a showdown involving Holmes being no place for a woman, to which both ladies bristled – and I received the distinct and uncomfortable impression that, had it not been for my wife's delicate state, she would have insisted on joining us as well!
I therefore explained to Lestrade where Holmes would be waiting for us, but found myself at a loss when Lestrade pressed me on the timing of the matter. I turned to Doctor Hooper, who met me with a cool look, and was given to understand that she would say nothing unless we allowed her to accompany us. "Very well, Miss – that is, Doctor Hooper," Lestrade finally grumbled. "You may join us as long as you and Doctor Watson remain out of the way and let us do our blasted jobs!" He seemed to immediately regret the inadvertent use of a word that might be expected to discommode the young lady in question, but she brushed it off as if it were of no consequence, merely relaying the information that Mr. Holmes and Mr. Moriarty would arrive at the appointed place at dusk – a mere hour from now.
Upon receiving that piece of intelligence, Lestrade sprang into action, shouting for his sergeant to gather the needed manpower and rushing about in preparation for the journey – and the upcoming confrontation at the bridge. "We must be prepared for anything," I warned Doctor Hooper, in a futile attempt to yet dissuade her from accompanying us. "He might have weapons other than the pistol he used to hold my wife and Holmes hostage, and of course he has accomplices, else he could never have taken out Lestrade's men so swiftly."
She nodded, eyes clear and chin firm, with no sign of womanish weakness, as some of my less enlightened brethren might have worded it. "I am prepared for anything that might come, Doctor Watson," she said. "In his desperation, I know that Thomas – James – might very well eschew the more humane tactics he has thus far displayed, and it might very well come down to…well, if he threatens larger violence, then I will do what I must to stop him. Just as you and Mr. Holmes and the police are prepared to do."
With that speech Lestrade burst back into the room, shouting for us to come along if we did not wish to be left behind. Sparing only a moment to press a farewell kiss to my dear Mary's cheek, I hastened from the room, hard on Doctor's Hooper's heels.
oOo
When we arrived at London Bridge nearly three-quarters of an hour later I was wild with impatience, although I did my best to keep from transmitting my tension to Doctor Hooper. The lady of course was far from easy in her mind, and much as it chafed my gentlemanly instincts to allow her to accompany me on this journey, what I had seen of her thus far gave me to understand that further remonstrations for her to remain safely aside would be met with disdain.
"I know you think I am foolish for placing myself in harm's way after Mr. Holmes has worked so hard in order to protect me, Doctor Watson," Doctor Hooper said quietly as we pulled up to our destination, "but pray do not think ill of me for doing so. I could no more sit idly by under these circumstances than you could." She sat very straight, her hands clasped tightly on her lap, and I could do nothing but admire her spirit and determination yet again.
"I cannot convince you to wait here, in the conveyance Inspector Lestrade has provided?" I asked, knowing what response I would receive even as I did so.
She shook her head and offered me a small smile. "No, Doctor Watson, you cannot." The carriage jolted to a halt, and she peered out the window. "We've arrived. I only pray we've done so in time to foil my former fiancé's plans. I would not be able to forgive myself should Mr. Holmes come to any harm at his hands."
I aided her from the carriage, and we joined Lestrade's gathered forces as he quietly dispersed his men into their various hiding places. It seemed likely that Holmes' ultimate destination would be the very same place where he last confronted Lord Blackwood, but I hoped that we had arrived in time to prevent their ascent to that dangerous locale.
Sure enough, not ten minutes after Doctor Hooper and I had ensconced ourselves behind an unfinished abutment, the sound of horse's hooves and the creaking wheels of some kind of conveyance met our ears. As the carriage came to a stop, I was startled to feel Doctor Hooper running past me, not stopping until she stood just in front of the two horses, facing the driver. I cursed and made to go after her, but stopped when I saw the doors to the carriage open, one side discharging a stranger, but the other revealing the face and figure of my good friend Sherlock Holmes. Visible proof that he was yet living and unharmed served to slow my racing heart somewhat, but it only began pounding again at the sight of the other man hurrying to Doctor Hooper's side and pulling her roughly to him.
"So, Molly, you're here, just as Mr. Holmes said you would be. How…extraordinary," the man drawled, eyes darting about. I eased back into concealment, and so lost my line of sight and had to rely solely on my ears for the remainder of the confrontation.
"Yes, I am here, Thomas," she replied, her voice as steady and calm as it had been while in the carriage. "You must give your word that no one else will come to harm, promise me!"
He laughed, a low, bitter laugh that sent a chill up my spine and had me easing my weapon out of my pocket. "Promise you?" he repeated mockingly. "Just as you promised me that you would become my wife? But you broke that promise, Molly, and my heart as well. So why should I make any promises to you?"
"Because you have worked very hard to prove to myself and the rest of the world that you are not your brother." That was Holmes, sounding as relaxed as if he were sitting at Baker Street, sipping tea with Mrs. Hudson. "To change tactics now, when you've striven not to bring harm to anyone other than Miss Hooper, would be perhaps an indication that you are, indeed, as unhinged as he was."
"It's Doctor Hooper, do not misuse her title!" Moriarty snarled. I risked another look, and saw that he now faced Holmes, his back to me, while the driver had pulled out a pistol which he held aimed at my friend. Moriarty held no weapon of his own that I could see, but had taken tight told of Doctor Hooper's arm, pulling her snugly to his side as he glared at Holmes. I hesitated to shoot at him because of her proximity, and because I could not be certain that he held a gun in the hand hidden from my view. And if I took the shot at Moriarty, would the driver then gun down my friend? And where were Lestrade and his men in all this?
The answer to that last question was answered when Holmes next spoke. "I presume the men you had in place awaiting our arrival are busy dealing with Inspector Lestrade and his men at the moment, Mr. Moriarty – Oh, I do beg your pardon, Mr. Harrison," he corrected himself with a sardonic lift of the lips. "I had quite forgotten your request that I address you by the name you have assumed rather than the one bequeathed to you at birth."
Moriarty – or Harrison, although I cared not one whit for how he preferred to be addressed! – seemed likely to lunge at Holmes in a rage, but checked himself. "You cannot incite my anger, Mr. Holmes," he said, although to my ears it sounded as if he were speaking through clenched teeth, belying his words even as he spoke them. "Nor can you alter my plans, even with the presence of the police here. My dear Molly will be taken to the highest point on this structure, where I have already concealed enough explosives to bring about not only her own demise, but yours as well. Yes, I have changed my mind," he gloated in answer to Holmes' (to my eyes at least) exaggerated expression of alarm. "I find myself in the unique position of not only avenging myself, but my elder brother as well, with one singular act. And then I shall vanish from London, to live a quiet life on the Continent under an identity I have already set up and that is entirely unknown to either you or the police."
Doctor Hooper had remained very still during all of this, aside from starting a bit when her former fiancé described his ultimate plans for disposing of her and Holmes. I was just beginning to think I should act in spite of the possibility that Moriarty was pressing a gun to her side, when two things happened nearly simultaneously: Doctor Hooper collapsed to the ground in what I presumed at the time was a dead faint, bringing the unsuspecting Moriarty down with her, and Holmes moved his arm in an odd fashion that I later recognized as that of a man flinging a bladed weapon. This was proven to be the fact when the driver of the carriage, who had been briefly distracted by the sight and sound of his employer, gave a gurgling cry, stood up and pawed at the knife-blade now protruding from his throat, and toppled over the side of the carriage seat and onto the pavement, startling the two horses into sidestepping away from his twitching form.
The sound of a scuffle from somewhere behind me caused me to turn around, gun at the ready, only to find myself face to face with Inspector Lestrade, who was wrestling one of Moriarty's thugs into submission. When the man let swing a wild blow that threatened to free him from the inspector's grasp, I sprang forward and laid him flat with a blow from the butt of my pistol on the back of his head. Lestrade thanked me with a nod and a grunt, and busied himself with cuffing the now-unconscious prisoner. "You all right over there, Holmes?" he shouted, and I turned back to see what had transpired during the scuffle.
"Perfectly fine, Inspector."
I was astounded to see my friend calmly standing over Moriarty's prone form whilst Doctor Hooper knelt astride him, just as calmly tying his hands together with what I later learned was Holmes' cravat. She had also somehow contrived to render him unconscious during her faux-faint, and I could see a small, proud smile hovering about Holmes' mouth as he watched her.
Within minutes it was over; the remainder of Moriarty's men had either been captured or fled, and there were no casualties on either side aside from the unfortunate driver. However, since he had clearly intended to use the pistol in his hands, no recriminations were laid at Holmes' feet for the act. Especially after Doctor Hooper insisted that he had done it to save her life, gazing so earnestly into Lestrade's flustered face that he could nothing more than mumble his acceptance of her words.
And with that, the entire sorry chapter of the last of the Moriarty brothers came to an end.
A/N: Many thanks to allthebellsinvenice for reading the first part of this chapter over and reassuring me that I hadn't lapsed into melodrama. And thanks as always to my readers, followers and reviewers! This tale is drawing to a close soon, hope you've enjoyed the ride!