Sherlock Holmes And The Paradise Horror

by GWBear

In 1920, Dr. John Watson breaks his long silence on the darkest, most difficult case - actually a series of related cases which Holmes pursued for many months - that Sherlock Holmes ever worked on. Holmes believes it's his greatest failure, but Watson thinks very differently. He believes the cases showed Holmes at his very best.

11. Chapter 10: Out Of Time

Chapter 10: Out Of Time

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting another chapter. I have been busy with the December HLotD Calendar Challenge. Hopefully, more gular updates will occur in the new year.

24th of May 1895

I didn't hear from Holmes until Friday morning. I was on rounds when I received a telegram from him, a request that was all too familiar, as I heard before:

"Come as soon as you can to Scotland Yard, if convenient. If inconvenient, come all the same."

Some things never change.

I had an understanding with the medical ward supervisors at Bart's that there would be times when I might have to go if Holmes needed me. As long as it wasn't too often, it would be possible to break away. Considering the delicacy of our investigation, I notified the ward supervisor and was in a cab thirty minutes later. I was clearly expected, as the desk sergeant greeted me warmly, and said, "Hello, Doctor Watson. They're all waiting for you in the second meeting room on the left." I knocked and opened the door, to see Holmes, Lestrade, Gregson, Radisson, and Thomas engaged in an intense discussion, surrounded by a pile of all too familiar documents. "Here at last, Watson. Thank you for coming," said Holmes. "We have been summoned to an accounting of our progress or lack thereof. We knew it was coming soon, so there's no surprise. We're just going over our notes in preparation for a presentation to the top brass later today."

"Who are you going to talk to?"

"Lestrade, Gregson, Radisson, and I will be talking to Senior Superintendent Carrigan. He's taking the meeting for Commissioner Bradford. In some ways it's better to make a report to Carrigan than Bradford at this point in time. We may be able to buy a bit more time, or at least continue on for a bit longer without a complete shutdown."

"Even so, Holmes I expect the Yard's investment in this rather speculative investigation will be ending soon," said Radisson gloomily. I continued to be surprised by the man. He had been involved in all these cases from the start. He had expressed a great deal of skepticism at first, but once he had agreed that a larger conspiracy was possible, he fully committed to the investigative effort. As our investigation proceeded, he had become a valuable, respected member of the team - and had earned Holmes' praise on several occasions. He now appeared reluctant to let go of the overall investigation.

But then again, so were we all.

Gregson called in a constable and asked him to send out for tea and sandwiches. Over the next three hours, we torturously reviewed all the data we had, the sequence of events, every lab analysis, the names of every company, research, firm, university, and possible experts. Even as we completed our data review, we knew that Campbell, Newton and our "outside experts" were still at large, working the latest leads, and following up, so that no stone was left unturned. Our overall lack of progress convinced everyone involved that we had to leave no possible lead unexplored. At 3 PM, Thomas excused himself to gather the latest data from that day's activity from the rest of the team. He came back twenty minutes later with a thin pile of papers.

"Here's today's summary – what there is so far, anyway. It's not much and none of it is earth-shaking. More of the same it seems."

Over the past two hours, the clerk assigned to help the team had been writing frantically, taking input from both Lestrade and Holmes. Gone was the usual competitive edge, the ongoing rancor between Gregson and Lestrade. Early in this investigation, they had privately agreed to set aside their usual bickering – and were as good as their word. They were already well-along the path of more congenial relations before this, having had to work together much more closely in the years Holmes had been absent from London. It also helped that both men had long since established their professional reputations, and no longer felt compelled to struggle for recognition.

By 3:45 PM, the final report was ready, and Holmes stood up along with the three inspectors. "Thank you everyone! Well, we're off to the lion's den to report, and hopefully save this investigation. Watson, you and Thomas will be spared the agony of this meeting. Perhaps you can both meet me back at Baker Street at 7:00 PM. I'll fill you both in."

"Maybe Max would like to have dinner with us at Baker St.?" I asked.

Thomas' face brightened with a grin. "Mrs. Hudson's cooking? I would never pass that up."

"I will drop Mrs. Hudson a telegram immediately. Better yet, I'll send a runner. As long as she has notice to make enough food, she will be more than happy to have someone else eat her dinner fare," I said. "Good luck, Holmes, inspectors!"

"We're going to need all the luck we can get," Lestrade muttered. "Hopefully, we will still have jobs at the end of the day. I'm too old to go back to pounding a beat."

Sergeant Thomas and I shook hands and agreed to meet up later at Baker St. As I had already left Barts for the day, I decided to do a bit of shopping. I stopped off at my tailor and picked up some new collars and cuffs, and then visited one of my favorite tobacconists to peruse the latest offerings. I bought some of my usual brand, along with some cigars and even two new samples to try smoking in my favorite pipe. Knowing that Holmes would likely be moody and frustrated later this evening, I purchased a number of his favorite Turkish cigarettes.

When I eventually arrived back at our flat in Baker Street, I checked with Mrs. Hudson to ensure everything was proceeding smoothly for dinner. She had received my notification in time, so had no problems adjusting for one guest. She was happy to show off her cooking, and even changed her planned dessert to her best strawberry tart recipe. I thanked her, went upstairs, tired, and happy to be home early. Mrs. Hudson brought some tea, and I settled in to read the papers, pleased with the extra time – and knowing that Holmes had likely had a more eventful late afternoon than I had. I would find out soon enough.

Holmes arrived just after 6:30 PM, carrying a copy of the report, and the results of the day's investigation. "How bad was it?" I asked.

"Bad enough," he replied, looking tired and frustrated. "I'll give the details when Sargeant Thomas arrives, but the gist is we have one more week. Unless we get a breakthrough, the investigation will formally end next Friday."

I wanted more details, but also knew that Holmes had more than earned a cup of tea and a few minutes of rest before Thomas arrived for dinner and an update.

Promptly at 7:00 PM, the doorbell rang, and Mrs. Hudson was heard answering the door, greeting our guest warmly, and directing him upstairs, telling him, "Tell Mr. Holmes and the doctor that dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes." Sergeant Thomas bounded upstairs, with that endless energy only found in the young. I must have betrayed my thoughts, as even as I moved to the door to open it and greet our colleague, Holmes smiled wryly at me and said softly, "Were we ever that young, Watson?"

Sergeant Maxwell Thomas came in and offered me a hearty handshake, as if he hadn't seen me in months. "Good evening, John," he said, and then looked across at Holmes.

"Good evening, Mr. Holmes. It's not good, is it?"

"Hello Max," I said. "No, it isn't. Would you like a drink? Brandy or scotch? A sherry perhaps?"

"A scotch, John, thank you," said Thomas. He crossed the room and shook Holmes' hand – a gesture Holmes received warmly, even as he gave a slight, regretful smile.

"Good evening, sergeant," he said. "It's not good but I suspect it could be worse. After giving an extensive report, where all four of us were intensely interrogated, Superintendent Carrigan was ultimately persuaded to give the team one more week. Unless we achieve some form of breakthrough, the formal aspect of this investigation will be shut down. We can consider ourselves lucky because Commissioner Bradford wanted to shut the entire investigation down this evening. It took all our collective efforts to convince Carrigan to give us the extra week. He leaned hard on the inspectors, especially Lestrade and Gregson, being more senior than Raddison. I have to say our three inspector colleagues acquitted themselves well. I suspect that they had done some previous rehearsal or preparation for this, as they presented a remarkably calm, professional, and united front to their superior. They presented the primary summary of events, something they were clearly ready to do – and also spoke well of the rest of the team, especially the Yard employees. Our constables were praised, and you in particular was singled out for your 'extra-ordinary skill, effort, and dedication far beyond the bounds of duty."

"That's most gratifying to hear," Thomas said. "I must thank them for their kind words."

"It's no more than you deserve," said Holmes. "In fact, all of you more than deserve the praise you received."

"Did Carrigan ignore you entirely?" I asked.

"Not at all, Watson, but it was obvious he wanted to make the point that this was first and foremost a Metropolitan Police investigation and that his 'professionals' were in charge. I was ready for this and so were the inspectors. I just waited my turn. When he turned to me, it was rather obvious that he was prepared for a fight. What he got instead was my logical, dispassionate, scientific best. Most everyone I regularly interact with at the Yard is used to some version of this, and so has already made an adjustment in their thinking and attitude. Carrigan and I have spoken before, but he has nowhere near the same experience with my methods, or with my style of presentation. The inspectors had prepared, but so had I. I went through a great deal of effort to persuade our good inspectors to take on this investigation, so I was not going to let anyone be pilloried for not getting prompt or ideal results. Only, you, Watson, have truly see me at my presentation best – and that usually when discussing things with my brother, Mycroft. His intellect matches my own, and very often can exceed it, although I am loathe to admit it. Mycroft doesn't suffer fools gladly, is considerably less patient than me and always expects nothing but perfection from me. Let's just say I gave Superintendent Carrigan 'the full Mycroft.'"

I burst out laughing as my relative few opportunities to watch the Holmes' brothers interact have always been memorable. When they got going, most of the time, I could follow the gist, but I often missed much of the deeper meaning – and certainly much of the logic it took to get there. "I think I would have paid to watch that interaction," I said.

"Indeed, Watson," Holmes said with a smirk. "It would have been worth a dinner at Simpson's at least. I didn't attack Carrigan by any means, but I did bowl him over. Even Lestrade and Gregson, who have worked with me the most, were a bit taken aback – although they hid it well. Raddison did look a little lost by the time I was done."

"And Carrigan?"

"I gave him some hard facts about my history conducting complex investigations, including my work the for the government, as well as other foreign powers. I let him know this was the most complex and maybe even the most far-reaching series of cases I have ever seen - and I was still entirely certain there was a real fire in all of this some – and a terrible evil too. I made it clear that we may still not get the breakthrough he and Bradford expect, but that even if they shut the investigation down, I would go on pursuing this case on my own, even if it took years. The evil involved, and the lives lost, deserve no less."

"Well stated!" I declared. Thomas heartily agreed.

Holmes was about to continue, but Mrs. Hudson could be heard on the stairs. Sergeant Thomas leaped to grab the door; he took the tray from her, set it down and unpacked it, even as Mrs. Hudson went downstairs for the rest of the meal. Fortunately, the dining table had already been set, so it was just the serving dishes and the wine. Thomas went downstairs and met Mrs. Hudson at the bottom, bringing the rest of the meal up with him. Mrs. Hudson had outdone herself with a vegetable soup course, trout in lemon sauce, one of her best curried lamb dishes, along with one of our preferred Italian wines.

"Lord, gentlemen, do you always eat like this?" Thomas exclaimed.

"Not always," I said. "Although Martha Hudson normally feeds us very well indeed. Better than we deserve, sometimes – and better still when she knows we will be home with enough time to enjoy it."

"She is a treasure," Holmes said. "She's a gem who puts up with far more than she needs to, especially from me."

"Seriously Holmes?" I said, "I'd say mostly from you. Between your violin, the noxious chemistry experiments, the clutter, and the chaos … and there's the gunfire of course."

"Is that actually true? It's not an exaggeration?" asked Thomas, looking back and forth between us.

"Over there, under the woodland print," I said. "You can see the faint marks of the 'VR' Holmes shot into the wall, back in 1883. I thought she would toss us both out on ears for that."

"I did apologize!" said Holmes.

"But you regularly continued to do the insufferable," I said, laughing. "Then of course, there are the innumerable missed meals."

"No!" exclaimed the sergeant. "How could you? Cooking like this? I'd never miss a meal."

"The work comes first, sergeant. You should know that by now. I can't afford the time to eat, or the energy spent on digestion when I'm deep into a case."

"Does the human body really work like that?" Thomas asked, looking to me for medical confirmation.

"No, it doesn't," I replied. "I've tried often enough to change his mind, but Holmes rarely listens. He's gotten better at eating more regularly. More importantly, he's far better at telling Mrs. Hudson when he won't be eating a meal, or home for dinner. This saves her wasted effort – and wasted food."

"She would have no such issues with me!" exclaimed the Sergeant. "I would be there with my napkin ready and a smile on my face, every day. I should only be so lucky!"

"Behold my many faults - such a terrible tenant!" Said Holmes sarcastically. "Maybe you should tell him the good things I do as well?"

"In fairness, Max, he pays promptly for any damages, and he often throws in extra on the rent. He calls it 'an inconvenience tax,'" I said. "So that makes it all right in the end, at least he thinks so."

Lighthearted banter continued while we gathered around the table, uncovered the dishes, passing the food around. After we had all served ourselves and started eating (assessing the food as exceptional,) the conversation drifted back to the afternoon meeting with the Superintendent. I was curious as to how Holmes had managed to gain the extra week - but even more surprising, winning the superintendent's respect in the process. "So how did you convince him to give the extra week?" I asked.

"I believe I overwhelmed him with my detailed analysis of the case. The inspectors gave him the story, but I explained what it all meant. The senior brass know we have been working hard, but the ramifications of it all - and the complexity - I think that surprised him. I had two goals for the meeting: to gain us more time, and to ensure that there would be no negative consequences for any of the inspectors, Thomas, Mercer, or the constables. Even if the seniors shut it all down, I want them to respect and understand the work, effort and the people who invested all this time and money. I partially succeeded with the first, but definitely succeeded with the second. Nobody in the force will have to fear for their jobs or their reputations, no matter how this investigation falls out."

"Thank you for that, Mr. Holmes," said Thomas. "I'm sure I am not the only one grateful for that. The constables will certainly be relieved."

"I'm sure they will be," said Holmes. "The inspectors most assuredly were. They even got handshakes and some praise from Carrigan - something they never expected to receive."

"So, considering we have a week left, what do we do?" asked Thomas.

"We have a meeting as soon as possible," said Holmes. "Watson put it best to me in a note earlier in the week. 'Where haven't we looked?' It's clear that this is a clever organization. There is clear method and purpose here. There's nothing random going on. These people know what they're doing is grievously wrong, and they have taken great care to hide themselves. This is looking far less like a grand pharmaceutical error, and more like a methodical criminal enterprise. I think the medical and chemical boys should continue chasing their open leads, but both myself and all the Metropolitan Police employees involved should shift our focus to looking for active criminals."

"Are you thinking someone along the lines of Professor Moriarty?" I asked.

"Very possibly, Watson. If that proves to be where our investigation leads, we will ultimately not be needing the outside experts, as it will become a far more traditional police investigation, deep and complex because it may be. It is very possible this is going to take many more weeks, even months, to crack."

"The top brass may end the formal investigation, Mr. Holmes, but you have my full ongoing commitment for as long as this takes," declared Thomas. "I am your man as long as you need me."

"I'm with you too, Holmes. All the way," I said.

"Thank you both," said Holmes, clapping his hands. "It's good to have loyal, stalwart companions on the journey. Watson will tell you: I am not a man given to emotional speeches or high sentiment. However, I assure you, your help, participation, loyalty, and ongoing insight is not only appreciated, but also critical, both now, and as we move forward."

We gradually drifted away from discussing the case. I think we all knew we were committed to a long road, but also recognized that we needed to take a step back for the evening. Holmes got talking about some of his earliest cases, and even some of his university studies. Both were topics even I didn't hear about often, so it was very interesting for me - and fascinating for the young Sergeant.

It wasn't until later, after Thomas had left, that Holmes and I took up the discussion of the investigation again. Holmes sat idly playing some warmup exercises on his violin. I could tell his mind was elsewhere, and he was thinking hard. "It's going to be a three-pipe problem night, isn't it?" I observed. Holmes laughed, but did not reply immediately. Eventually he spoke.

"You know me well, old friend. You read me almost as well as I do you, but you lack the confidence of your observations. This is indeed going to be a three-pipe night - perhaps even more. There is much to reconsider. I think we both know that we are almost certainly not going to make the grand miraculous breakthrough that will impress the likes of Carrigan and Bradford. We may get a clue or two but a shining light in the darkness is unlikely."

"Any idea where to start again?" I asked.

"Yes and no, Watson, at least not yet. I'm going to visit the Oracle about this again. I have had a few talks with Mycroft about this case in the last three months. He's been consumed with concerns about the Balkans, German fleet growth, Russian anarchists and the Irish question as always. He pays little attention to my work, although he will offer comments when asked. He's still of the mind that I am wasting my considerable God-given talents on petty concerns and trivialities far better left for Scotland Yard. He would infinitely prefer I devoted myself to weightier concerns on the national and international stages. Nothing would please him more than if I came to my senses and decided to come to work with him in the in the foreign affairs office-or even as a senior liaison to Special Branch."

"Nothing new there, Holmes, I said. "It's the same as it ever was."

"Indeed Watson. All in all, I would have expected Mycroft to take a more active interest in this case, especially considering the number of deaths, and the rather obvious implications for public safety and national security. Perhaps I can rouse his interests further. I could use his insights - and his own network of contacts, both here in Britain, and internationally as well. I will pay my brother a visit tomorrow and see if I can shake free some pearls of wisdom from that particular oyster."

I could see that Holmes wanted to retreat into his complex ruminations, so I let him be. I spent the rest of the evening catching up on the ever-present newspaper backlog. I decided that if Holmes was going to be busy, I might spend some time at my usual club, or even pay another visit to the Athenaeum club. It had been a few weeks since I had dropped my line in the water at that particular stream, looking for information. Perhaps I will learn something new. I owed it to the team to try.

The following morning saw Holmes and I rising somewhat later, per our usual Saturday routine. The lingering odor of strong shag tobacco was the only indication that Holmes had made a long night of it, as he otherwise looked well rested and dressed for a day about town. Mrs. Hudson served us her usual Saturday breakfast, a modified full Scottish breakfast - which meant everything but the haggis.

"Good morning, Watson. I hope you slept well. A full Saturday feed as usual. Thankfully, some things never change. off to your club later today perhaps even the Athenaeum I see."

"Right on both counts," I said. "Although I no longer need to ask how you deduced that. It's the club pin and medical medallion no doubt."

"Indeed Watson," he laughed. "You are no longer the wide-eyed apprentice. You are wise to all my tricks. I am glad you are heading to the Athenaeum today, as I decided last night that your colleagues there were due at least one more visit, perhaps more. For my part, I'm off to the Diogenes club, and then some time at the British Museum. I have an avenue of inquiry I want to pursue. Along that line, try asking at your clubs if anyone knows of recent exhibitions in tropical places that focused on gathering exotic flora, especially for medical purposes."

"An interesting line of inquiry, Holmes. A long shot?"

"Another possible field of stones to uncover, Watson. A long shot indeed, but at this point I don't think we can leave any line of investigation unexplored. I want to know who has discovered what, and when. I also want to know if anyone brought anything of interest back."

"That could be a very big field, Holmes. There's usually something going on in the area of natural explorations. In fact, more now than ever before. The more explorers open up the far corner of the world, the more they find - usually leading to more questions than answers. There's a dawning understanding that many of those tropical places could yield new foods, medicines, and raw metals aplenty."

"Exactly Watson. It's another road to wander down, perhaps. But I take your question seriously: 'where haven't we looked?'"

I couldn't help but wince as I pondered what such a line of investigation could mean. "We could be digging up these rocks for years, Holmes!"

"I know Watson. It's not an entertaining prospect. Hopefully, it doesn't come to that. For now, it's a start."

We both decided that the case, and faraway lands could wait while we ate breakfast. Microsoft was a late riser on the weekends, so Holmes pursued the papers for a while before heading out. Both of us had fallen behind on our daily news consumption. I liked to keep informed, but for Holmes it was both a professional obligation, and an obsession. Holmes' backlog was a sign of how much the case had consumed him such that he had fallen so far behind. It didn't help that the Scotland Yard inspectors kept him busy with numerous other cases as well.

A glance at Holmes' desk also showed a very substantial pile of backlogged correspondence, both from research colleagues and the many people from all over Europe who begged for his attention or help. Holmes decided to give this mail pile some priority at last, so he took about an hour sorting through the pile - setting aside some, looking vexed at three of them, and laughing loudly at one letter, before also setting that letter aside. "Remind me to tell you about my adventure with Professor Adam Fender," he said. "He's a most interesting fellow. I ought to introduce you to him someday." He made another pile of letters that clearly left him unhappy. With bills in one pile, ongoing correspondence in another, cast offs and obvious rejects ready for burning, this was clearly the backlog of clients he could no longer avoid. He finished sorting his backlog and then lit a cigarette, sitting back and staring at the painful reminder of unfinished and neglected work.

"I have been neglecting other important clients of late. What am I going to do with them?"

"I have been wondering the same thing," I said. "Your pile has grown for some time, and I've lived with you long enough to know that a large percentage of your incoming post is requests for help, or advice of some type. Unfortunately, you're going to have to make time for it. You have a business to run, and a profession to maintain. You are much more financially sound than you used to be, as I am, but you still have to earn a living. We both do. You only have one active client attached to this case, and while the metropolitan police and other jurisdictions have been known to cover your expenses on cases you work for them, they certainly don't pay you much. I know without asking that you are deep in the red in this case, both as far as expenses you have borne, and opportunities you have passed over in the last three months. This one case, plus all the favors you are doing for the yard, can't be all you do. Your own consulting business - all those potential clients - need you. Frankly, you need them too. You can't live on fresh air or work exclusively as an unpaid white knight for the poor and forgotten."

Holmes picked up the top letter, side and said, "You are the solid voice of reason as always, Watson. My own affairs have been sadly neglected as of late. This case weighs heavily on me, more than many others in my career. So many deaths, so many unanswered questions, and loose ends. I know some terrible force is at work here, and yet I remain completely blocked without a glimmer or a sign of how to proceed, except as I have been. It's maddening Watson!"

"There's one other oddity," I said tentatively.

"Only one Watson? I can think of several huge issues, and quite a number of peculiarities That remain entirely unaddressed. What's yours?"

"Except for the one additional death that we all went chasing after, there haven't been any others recently - at least that we know of."

"That we know of, there's the rub, Watson! These deaths came like a bolt out of the blue, they came, did their carnage, and then stopped. But did they truly stop? Will they start again? Take another form? Or are we done? If it's over, then why? Are we being watched, with the killer or killers lying low, who's to tell?"

"We have a week, Holmes. It's not a long time to conjure a miracle."

"Deadline or not, Watson I will continue to investigate these deaths - at least until a suitably convincing alternative can be found!"

I left Holmes to the solitary task of prioritizing his correspondence. After he had written off a few quick letters, he gathered them up and said, "I'll just drop these off at the nearest mailbox. I'll take whatever you have as well, if you have anything." I gave him two letters along with my thanks and a parting "good luck with Mycroft," - and Holmes left. I just hoped the combined intellects of The Holmes Brothers could provide our team with the necessary breakthrough.

I left for the Athenaeum Club soon after. This rather exclusive club for scientists, medical specialists, technical experts, and explorers was never a place I felt I truly belonged. My active membership was a gift from a grateful colleague who was also a client. I had only been visiting regularly because I was hoping to uncover some clues regarding cutting edge pharmaceutical research. Today I was hoping for something different: information about the latest expeditions to tropical or odd places. I arrived just before midday, ideal for catching the mealtime crowd. I greeted a few professional colleagues I knew well, then deliberately seated myself at a table of men known for their awareness of the latest gossip and accomplishments. In the club they were called, "The Journalists," or "The Old Hens." – depending on the opinion of who you asked. Today, I wanted the best of whatever they had of news or rumors. I was in luck as four of the most garrulous club members were already settled in, deep in conversation. They were Saturday regulars; about the best I could hope for. Professor Franklin Richards, a respected geologist, Chester Williams, a wealthy textile exporter, famous for funding the explorations of others, Dr. Alan Kingsley, an Egyptologist, and Professor Carter Wellers, an anthropologist - an ideal mix if ever there was one. Of all these friendly tale spinners, I believed Chester Williams might have the most to tell me, as he knew not only of the explorations he had helped fund, but the doings of many others, going back well over ten years.

In this club I was seen as something of a minor celebrity: a successful author, medical man, ex-soldier, past and current world traveler, and most intriguing of all a daring crime fighter. My exploits with Sherlock Holmes were known not only through my stories in The Strand, but also through the rumors spread by my medical colleagues, many of whom were used to seeing me dash off suddenly to parts unknown, only to come back days (or many weeks) later looking tired, weathered, even battered and injured, and unable to talk much about where I had been. It took me years to realize my reputation was also boosted by the constables and inspectors at Scotland Yard - who often thought better of me than they did of Holmes. I had a history of patching up injured constables which earned me their eternal gratitude, and praise. My natural reticence and reluctance to talk about myself apparently had only added to my mystery. At least in this environment I could use all of this to my advantage.

I was greeted with great enthusiasm. It didn't take long to bring the four friends around to a discussion about foreign explorations and expeditions past and current. As I suspected, there was a constant web of activity. Numerous universities, geographic organizations, and a surprising number of wealthy patrons were funding trips to Asia, Africa, and unexplored places in the Americas to find pretty much everything exotic and new. I was readily able to steer the focus of discussion to expeditions to find new flora and fauna for medical research. To my surprise, this type of research was far more common than I expected. The four of them even found my surprise quite amusing.

"John, I don't think you truly understand," said Williams. "Sure, some people and organizations are lured by the thrill of the odd and unknown, but far more are drawn in by the quest for fame, or good old-fashioned profit potential. Remember governments and wealthy patrons have been at this for hundreds of years. The first explorations that led to discovering China were driven by a need to find a new market, goods, and tradable commodities. The vast wave of exploration first started by Spain and Portugal, which ultimately discovered the Americas, was first undertaken to find fast Asian trade routes, then later to find valuable products like gold silver, gems, or specialized plants like tobacco. Even in more modern times, most of our foreign activity is driven by trade, exploitation, and profit - even if we like to pretend it isn't. Need I remind you of the East India Trading Company or the dynamics of the opium market? Don't even get me started on the dark history of the slave trade, or the vast scope of the rum, sugar, and cotton trades. It's all about economics and profit in the end."

"So how does medical research fit in?" I asked.

"Well, look at opium as one example," he replied. "It is a plant based raw medical product that has fueled an entire series of industries – and one which now dictates a substantial portion of our international policy. Same with a vast number of food products. Countless people are looking for the next tobacco, coffee bean, banana, or opium poppy. Vast amounts of jungle and the warm, tropical places of the world remain only marginally open to our understanding, with their resources and raw materials almost entirely unknown. Private investors, corporations, and organizations large and small, and even a large number of lone investors, adventurers and nere-do-wells are constantly looking for El Dorado in the swampy, mosquito ridden corners of the world. Take it from me, there's ever more demand on people like me, or the well-connected people in this club, or even on all the members of the British aristocracy to fund such projects. All the petitioners have a plan, a dream, a driving ambition. When they fail, which many, even most of them do, a whole new batch comes forward to take their place."

Even as he spoke, the others around the table nodded their agreement. Apparently, I had stumbled upon a large, long-established fact of scientific and economic reality, which I had been entirely unaware of.

"So, who tracks all this activity?" I asked.

This question earned me a burst of laughter from the entire gathering. "Why, nobody does," said Kingsley. "This activity just goes on, even as regular business and life does. Just like nobody tracks how many pubs or tobacconists open and close, or even considers if another twenty shops are really necessary, these enterprises come and go. The larger ones, or the projects that draw big names tend to make at least a wave or two. So do the biggest successes, or the greatest failures. A huge expedition where many lives are lost, or someone wealthy loses their fortune will make headlines. Of course, a great find, discovery or economic success will make noise too, but not always. Gone are the days when every discovery makes a splash. First off, there are just too many. Second, people who invest in a new project that makes good often want to keep the story of their success, and the profits to themselves at least until the money starts rolling, and a truly large success is assured. Significant findings have almost certainly happened recently that even the 'experts' know nothing about as of yet. This is more likely for a new food or plant because it takes time for a new product to be understood and then yet more time to determine how to exploit it. If you are the holder of such a secret, all that time when you are determining its potential, your secret will be held close, so that others don't get hold of your secret resources and determine how to make a profit from it before you do. You see, John, it's all rather logical, even obvious when you think about it. It's just business." Again, the group nodded agreement.

"So where is all this exciting exploration happening?" I asked. I was determined to at least bring back some kind of lead or clue for Holmes to consider, even if I didn't have a name.

"All over. Africa, Central and South America, remote parts of China, and Southeast Asia" said Williams, with agreement from the table. "Siam and the Malay kingdoms have all manner of exploration and research teams wandering around making discoveries, as do even more remote tropical islands in backwaters in the Southeast. However, nothing matches the exploration going on in the Amazon jungle. The region is beyond vast, with entire areas never even seen by white men, let alone fully explored. Remember the Amazon basin covers more than one-third of all of South America. It's not just Brazil. It covers Bolivia, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Venezuela, and Guyana. Truth be told, Europeans barely understand it all, let alone have traveled much of it. What is known for certain is that the number of undiscovered creatures is considerable - and the new plants, never seen before, are vast. The entirety of it all could be greater than the number of plants and botanicals currently known and cataloged from around the world!"

"Lord, I had no idea!" I exclaimed.

"Indeed," said Kingsley. "South American exploration is big, very big. As for lost civilizations, who knows? The jungle is so thick in parts of central and South America that entire lost cities are probably hidden there. I expect you could troop your way through one - hack your way with a machete more likely - and not know you went right by." He sighed. "If I were a younger man, and could tolerate the mosquitoes, I would probably be interested in a trip of exploration myself. But that's an adventure for younger men than me."

Try as I might, I couldn't get more specific information. I was told the British Museum, or the Royal Society might be good places to start if I wanted a list, or even the vague beginnings of a list. The group broke up after lunch, and I decided to stay, rather than head off to my usual officers' club. Enough professional colleagues, and other medical and scientific contacts were coming and going to make it worth my while; I might get lucky.

I spent a convivial but otherwise uneventful afternoon talking with a wide assortment of new and old contacts. None of them had any additional insight beyond what I had learned earlier. By 6:00 PM, I was talked out, tired, and felt the need to be home for a simple tea served by Mrs. Hudson. I had learned a great deal, but I was frustrated because we were still nowhere. We were no closer to a usable lead for our investigation. I made it home and had just settled in with tea and the evening papers when Holmes arrived. I could tell immediately that his afternoon had been at least as long as mine, and likely as unfulfilling, because he looked tired and defeated.

"You don't look happy Holmes," I said. "No luck with Mycroft?"

"Nothing I can readily use," said Holmes. "Although he promised he would do some digging around for me. I captured his interest more than I had in previous discussions on the topic. Giving him a solid review helped me sort all the facts again. Sometimes laying out the cards afresh leads to new insights eventually. He doesn't believe we have left any stones unturned, at least within this country. Like me he does not see a likely breakthrough, by the end of the week. He also agrees with you that I have left my own affairs to drift for far too long. His strong advice is that I step away from the yard as soon as possible and get back to my own work. 'You spent many years developing your practice and your reputation. Don't risk it now!' That's his advice. I am forced to admit it has much merit. I am going to have to find a way to balance my own needs and the many other demands on my time, along with this case, especially if I'm going to continue to work on it long term after next week."

"Will you work the case exclusively all next week?" I asked.

"Yes, I will, but meanwhile I will write a number of these potential clients and tell them that I will have at least a little more time starting after then, from the 3rd of June onwards. Unfortunately, just to make things even tighter, Mycroft has three 'little affairs' he would like me to look into, two of them in this country and one in Paris with a side trip possible to Munich and Berlin as well. June, and perhaps the entire summer, could be very busy indeed. It's possible that you and Mrs. Hudson will both not be seeing much of me for four or five weeks or more."

"What are you going to tell Mister William Sullivan about his case?" I asked.

"The truth, Watson. Nothing but the truth. A huge amount of effort and extra expense has gone into deeply investigating his fiancé with no results so far. The yard will be pulling back soon, but I will not, at least not entirely, I will still dedicate some time to his case, as will Sergeant Maxwell Thomas. I will also tell him that the Ever-worthy doctor John H. Watson will still be in his corner."

"For that, Holmes. I will indeed. You have me for as long as you need me for this investigation. Such a monstrous evil cannot go unanswered!"

"Good old Watson! You represent the very best this country has to offer. But I hear Mrs. Hudson assembling our dinner. Let's finish up this tea, and you can tell me your news. I can tell by your demeanor that you have some, although it's not the most ideal."

"I cannot even remotely fathom how you have deduced that, Holmes, as you are right on both counts. I got something of an education at the Athenaeum Club, but I am entirely at sea as to what to do with the information I learned. If anything, it means the scope of potential investigation is far broader than we have imagined. There's a lot more fields with a vast number of rocks to look under."

I poured both of us a cup of tea and began a concise summary of my discussion with my lunch companions as well as the other small supporting details I had gleaned from the others I spoke to throughout the afternoon. I was interrupted by Mrs. Hudson's cod course, chops and potatoes dinner arriving. I resumed my narrative as we both started in on Mrs. Hudson's excellent cooking. Holmes listened carefully and asked only a few questions throughout my report. When I was finished, he didn't say anything for a few minutes. This did not bother me, as we often paused our discussions during meals to focus on eating rather than conversation. I had given him a lot to think of, and I knew he was carefully considering everything I had told him. Indeed, it wasn't until our food was eaten and Mrs. Hudson had brought a raspberry tart and coffee that Holmes emerged from his reverie.

"You did very well, Watson, although like you I am hard pressed to know what to do with this whole new way of looking at this investigation. In truth, some of what Mycroft said today supports this new angle of consideration. He seemed to think we were not fully appreciating both foreign influences, as well as the 'ever evolving new' as he put it. You have given me much to think of, my friend, and many new rocks to turn over. I have some chemistry colleagues to talk to, as well as Andrew Mercer and his team. Maybe we can determine a way to test for the new unknowns - although that will be a tall order indeed."

"I wish I had better news for you, Holmes. It sounds like we have an almost infinite number of new possibilities and not many ways to track them down."

"So, it seems, Watson. We need a new approach, certainly a new source or two of information. There isn't much to consider. I beg your indulgence this evening. I would like to sit and ponder this over a few pipes without any interruptions. This is at least a three-pipe problem, maybe even five."

"I know your methods and habits by now, Holmes. I'll leave you in peace," I said. Holmes curled up in his Wicker chair, nesting in a pile of cushions like a contented Buddha. I decided to catch up on some of my medical reading, so I took my backlogged pile of medical journals, and started in on the latest edition of The Lancet. The rest of the evening passed in silence. When I finally made my way upstairs to bed, Holmes was still sitting quietly, eyes closed, smoking his latest rather vile brand of shag.

The next morning saw Holmes in a quiet mood. He said little at breakfast, and immediately afterwards he sat at his desk, attacking his correspondence with a grim, focused intensity. For years, Holmes kept up a regular and extensive range of contacts and professional associates through the post. His usual method was to spend short bursts of time furiously writing every day or two. However, rarely had I seen his pile of letters grow like this, or become so neglected, except for when he was abroad working on a complex case. Today he worked rather frantically, writing letter after letter sorting, considering, and occasionally discarding and burning. He stopped only for a quick lunch break, and later for tea - and then only because his hand was cramping. Much later when the pile was gone, he continued to write, either in response to clients I did not know of, or to some of his academic colleagues. It wasn't until well after 8:00 PM then he finally put his stationery and pens aside. "A long unpleasant task, Watson, but it's finally done," he announced. "Thank you for your silence today. I would appreciate it if you gave me a not so gentle nudge in future should you ever see my correspondence pile up like that again. Just point at the pile, and say, "Ben Nevis." I will be infinitely obliged to you. I will drop this not so small mound of letters in the nearest post box tomorrow morning. Better yet, it's a warm evening. Would you care for a brief walk to stretch your legs?"

"Why not? We have both been camped out here all day," I said. Within two minutes we were both out the door armed with hats, walking sticks and our postal obligations. A few minutes later saw us heading to Regents Park, which would bring us past a letterbox. We walked in companionable silence as was our long habit. It wasn't until after our post was dropped off and we had entered the park that Holmes broke the silence.

"One of those letters is a request to meet with Bill Sullivan on Wednesday evening. I will drop by his flat at 8:00 PM and bring him up to date on our current status. It's not a conversation I am looking forward to, but it's necessary, even somewhat overdue."

"Do you want me to come along?" I asked.

"Thank you, but no need. I want to make this short and concise as possible. Sad news quickly delivered is probably best at this time. I will send him your best, and a promise from both of us that we are not closing the case. It's the best I can offer him."

"Your ongoing attention is no small thing," I said. "This case has already gone far above and beyond almost any other case of yours in recent memory, same with the lads at Scotland Yard. He's gotten the best efforts of many. Our efforts have been a form of solidarity and support which I hope brings him some measure of comfort."

"As do I, Watson. It's all I have, that any of us have to offer."

Our conversation drifted into other topics. The few birds we heard in the park led Holmes to tell me a story about his childhood growing up in the countryside. He used to wander late into the evening, exploring. Apparently, he would not come home on summer evenings until he had heard and identified a predetermined number of separate bird calls. As Holmes rarely, if ever shared stories of his past, especially his childhood, I cherished this rare confidence. I found it amusing that even this was something of a competition between Sherlock and his brother. It was a point of great pride that Sherlock eventually got more skilled at this bird call game than his much older brother. Going back to when he was a young boy, Mycroft was always the measure of success for Sherlock. Decades later the comparisons and the competitive spirit still persisted between the two brothers.

The following morning began the five business day deadline to Friday afternoon. I was up early but Holmes was almost finished with his breakfast, and ready to leave when I came down. "I don't know when I will return this evening," he said as he put on his hat and spring coat. "You may not see me at all until very late. I've asked Mrs. Hudson to leave out bread, cheese, and cold meat for me. That will have to do. There's a lot of people to meet with starting with all the inspectors and then Thomas. I want to meet with Mercer and his team. I will also try to arrange an interview with Albert Anders at the University of London. He's weighed in a few times already. I am hoping our latest insights might provide something he could add value to. Your conversations on Saturday were enlightening. Maybe he can further clarify. I'm off!"

As I read the morning paper, eating eggs and toast, I could not help but wonder how the few days we had left could yield us anything useful. I am normally an optimistic person, but even I had to admit it did not look good for us. Thinking ahead to Wednesday evening, I did not envy Holmes having to face Bill Sullivan. Our results will be hard to hear; I could only hope he would understand we had done our best.

My day was calmer than the usual Monday. Cold and flu season had passed, and we were at that time of year when the average citizen of London was at their healthiest. It helped that countless thousands of coal fires were not turning the air around us into a sulphureous yellow fog. As expected, Holmes was not there when I arrived home. I had dined at my club, giving Mrs. Hudson the night off. In the daily pile of mail, I had an unexpected letter from Dr. Sears, telling me that Susan Crossford had shown little improvement. She was self-aware enough to take care of her basic biological needs most of the time and could feed herself simple food if coaxed. Unfortunately, she was only slightly more communicative, even when her husband visited. In all the high priority issues surrounding our main case, I realized I hadn't even raised the mystery to Holmes yet - and likely would not - at least until the deadline was past.

There was still nothing approaching a breakthrough by Wednesday evening. Holmes told Mrs. Hudson he would be very late for dinner, as he decided to visit Bill Sullivan first. It wasn't until after 9:30 PM that I heard the downstairs door open, and the familiar sound of Holmes climbing the stairs. He came in looking worn and defeated. " Good evening, Watson," he said. "I see you decided to wait on your dinner. You did not need to. I'm sure you had a long day and are quite hungry."

"Good evening, Holmes. I decided that after the day, and a difficult meeting with Mr. Sullivan, you would appreciate the companionship over your evening meal. How was the meeting with our client?"

Holmes sighed and shook his head slightly. He walked over to the decanters on the sideboard, reached for the brandy, and then changed his mind.

"Mrs. Hudson will soon be up with our meal. I'll wait." He went over to the dining table and started making room for the food. "It went about as well as could be expected, all things considered," he said. "The man is even thinner and more careworn than when you last saw him. He was polite, gracious, appreciative of the visit, and most incredibly grateful for the large-scale team effort. He wasn't surprised as it was obvious he hadn't expected much success. I left him with the assurance we would not give up on him, and that our efforts would continue. He asked me to convey his profound gratitude to everyone on the team, especially you, Thomas, and the investigators. We agreed I would communicate regularly with updates. And that was that. Nothing more to say."

"Did you discuss a fee or payment?" I asked.

"He agreed to send a payment. He wants to pay something, and I suppose it's right that he does so. Clients should pay for the effort and work, not a guarantee of results, although that is often not my way. He knows that we will continue more ongoing investigation, regardless of payment schedules. Clearly there is much more involved here than money."

"Mrs. Hudson brought in the tray, with Irish stew, new salad greens, and a strawberry tart. By unspoken agreement we did not talk about the case anymore, but rather a few other active cases being worked by Gregson and Radisson. I finally was able to give Holmes a brief summary of the Susan Crossford case, and mentioned that there was an odd increase in similar cases reported from several area asylums.

Holmes definitely found the entire situation peculiar. "Has anyone died, turned violent, or done something spectacularly unusual?" He asked.

"No, nothing unusual, beyond the above average number of cases. It's men and women both although a few more women than men."

"How odd, Watson," Holmes said. "Never let it be said that you and your professional colleagues don't have your own deep dark mysteries to solve. Please let me know if any strange pills or medications appear to factor into any of these cases." He paused to consider further as he ate. "I've got an overflowing list of tasks on my plate. At the moment there doesn't appear to be anything I can do to contribute in your case - or is there?"

"I do not believe so, but I wanted to let you know about it, on the off chance that you would see something I missed somehow."

"This is your field of expertise, not mine," he said. "But thank you for letting me know about it. If something brilliant strikes me at 3:00 AM…" Holmes laughed. "I doubt that will happen though I've got a lot of balls to juggle as it is. Far too many."

After dinner, Holmes spent a few minutes updating the central case files, then took a quick read of the day's papers. Since he was soon going to be getting active in a broader range of cases, he felt the need to reacquaint himself with the daily events of our great metropolis. "You saw the Lord Sanderson issue I assume?" He asked. "I expect someone will come knocking about that little problem sometime soon, perhaps on Friday. Fortunately, I can work several cases at once. If Scotland Yard does not monopolize my time, I might be able to look into the matter."

Holmes was already gone by the time I came down to breakfast the following morning. "He ate nothing but toast and coffee," Mrs. Hudson complained. "He's not sure he'll be home to eat a decent dinner. Asked me to leave a covered plate on the sideboard for him, he did. That man don't take proper care of himself! Plenty of bacon for you this morning."

I assured Mrs. Hudson that I was ready and willing to eat anything she put before me as always. As a result, I had a very hearty portion of bacon to go with my eggs, toast, and coffee. I told her that, unlike Holmes, I would be home for dinner, but I had to leave early, as I was filling in for a few hours at Dr. Amesbury's practice before I took my regular shift at Bart's. Without pausing to do much more than read the first two pages of each of the morning papers, I was off for what promised to be a long day.

I didn't make it back to Baker Street until almost 8:30 PM. Fortunately, Mrs. Hudson had planned for my late arrival, so nothing was burned or overcooked. There was a brief note from Holmes, delivered earlier in the evening, asking me to join him for an extra early breakfast the following morning. It was Friday at last, and, barring a miracle, our extended team would be disbanded at the end of the day. He wanted to go over our status again before he reported at the meeting with Superintendent Carrigan and Commissioner Bradford. To prepare, I took some time to review the latest information collected over the last few days as well as the report written for last week's meeting. I couldn't help but feel frustrated. So much time and effort invested, so much talent applied, and so little to show for it. I felt for all the victims: young, poor, powerless, and virtually forgotten by anyone except their family and friends. We knew, knew with absolute certainty, that their lives had been cut short with a horrific obscene brutality, long before their time. What would happen now? I did not doubt Holmes's dedication and skill - or even my own. Sergeant Thomas was brilliant and would undoubtedly stay the course. The inspectors - Holmes had his long-standing concerns about them, but this time they had truly come through, both for him and the victims. They were good men, nothing like Holmes or even Sergeant Thomas, but when it came to loyalty, heart, dedication, and a commitment to justice, they had all of these in abundance. And what about our four young outside experts? It had taken a while, but each of them had risen to the occasion, and then some. What would happen to them now?

I went to bed shortly afterwards but slept fitfully. The current circumstances weighed on me rather poorly. I could only imagine how things sat with Holmes. The man accepted defeat far worse than most, especially when lives had been lost, and justice was on the line. He was sitting at the table when I came down, dressed more fitting for an audience with the Prime Minister than a trip to Scotland Yard. "Good morning, Watson," he said. "So sorry to get you up so early, especially because you slept so poorly. But needs must. It's our day of reckoning at last." He looked tired and worn, sober, but not nearly as downcast as I expected.

"You seem to be taking this better than I am," I said.

"Ah, my friend, I have had longer to get used to this. At least a week. I knew last week that we would almost certainly not meet Carrigan's or Bradford's deadlines. In fact, I am still surprised we got the extra week. While I deeply regret our lack of conclusive progress, I have always known right from the start that this was a risky venture, with no guarantee of success. Failure was always far more likely. As it is, the team gathered far more data, did far more and a far more thorough job of this than I expected. Don't look so surprised dear friend. I am first and foremost a scientist, a rational mind always. I've been under no illusions - indeed have not been since two weeks into this case, right from the start."

"You certainly have kept your doubts to yourself!" I declared.

"No doubts, Watson. Just a healthy grasp of reality. Complex problems don't resolve quickly and easily. I have always known this, even when, as younger men as a younger man, my natural impatience rebelled, and I wished otherwise. As for being more candid, my grasp of reality also told me I wasn't going to move this case forward with my usual hard-driving, often ruthless focus. This case would need time, delicacy, the help of many others, and dare I say it, tact, and diplomacy. Yes Watson, I believe I have surprised you by being a politically sensitive soul at last. but it's what this needed all along - and we'll continue to need going forward. To keep this case active, I will still need the help, ongoing cooperation, and resources of the Metropolitan Police, maybe even the resources from other departments and cities far beyond London. You may not credit it, friend Watson, but Sherlock Holmes, the political animal is here to stay."

"Well now, with this as the new lay of the land, what do you need of me? How can I help?"

"Good old Watson! You are always the first to volunteer and the last to step back! What I need right now is first your honest assessment of where we are. Second: knowing that our goal is keep all our options active, what do you suggest I focus on during my meeting with Commissioner Bradford?"

"Today? I would be ready to give a concise summary of the case and be able to address any questions about why the desired results haven't been forthcoming. There's not much particularly new or exciting in this week's data, so I would not dwell on it, but rather the things learned in the overall effort. I would put focus as much as possible on the lives lost, as the team is pursuing this as a multiple murder investigation. Most of all, I would be generous and grateful. Praise the Yarders on the team and our four outside consultants. Let it be known everyone did fine work and deserves stellar references. Praise everyone including Carrigan and Bradford themselves. Since you will be wanting their help and goodwill in future, it's imperative that the senior management feels good, even appropriately clever and foresighted for having approved of this project. I would go so far as to say the happier you can make them today, the better. If you get them ready to raise a toast to the team and the results of the investigation you will have succeeded admirably."

Holmes leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily. 'Oh Watson! You are the best of men. I always look to you for the resolution to anything regarding the finer, human sentiments. You never disappoint and you certainly have come through now. I shall do as you suggest. I will be sweetness, light, and gratitude personified. I expect it will give our dear inspectors one collective giant fit of apoplexy. They may need to be carried out on stretchers! Oh Lestrade - the poor man! I'll never live it down with them, but if it gets us the relaxed rules and the open doors, we will need for the future, so be it."

"Do you need me there today?" I asked.

"Thank you, but I think not. Bradford and Carrigan know you, but not very well. Your presence may throw off their focus. I need them to concentrate only on the immediate issues of the case, rather than getting to know a less than familiar face."

"Your point is well made Holmes. However, I would suggest you tell the inspectors what your approach will be. They need to be ready to react appropriately and back up any assertions you make about the team and the case. You will get only one shot after all."

"You are right again, Watson. Theatrics will have to wait for another time. I suppose I would be well advised to invite the entire team to a local pub for drinks after their shifts are done?"

"Good idea. Make sure to invite Mercer, and anyone on his team who has contributed - like Flynn."

"I will do so. I will send you a note at Barts with results, statuses, and any meeting that is scheduled for tonight. I will tell Mrs. Hudson not to expect us for dinner. If there is no pub meeting, perhaps we can catch dinner at Simpsons."

"Good luck! Give my best to the team. I am with you in spirit!"

Holmes gave me a brief wave and a smile as he left. Throughout the afternoon, I kept expecting to receive some type of message from Holmes. Eventually a note came to me from Holmes, but it wasn't the status and team meeting notification I expected. A young runner from the yard delivered something completely different.

Team officially disbanded. Further unofficial investigation is approved. Your approach to Carrigan and Bradford was entirely correct. I have been pulled into an immediate double murder investigation with Lestrade and Thomas. No team gathering tonight. Duty calls! If at all possible, please meet at the Thames River morgue at 6:30 PM. Your medical insight will be most appreciated. S. H.

Duty calls indeed, I thought, as I hurriedly got ready to leave. A consulting detectives work is never done - nor is a doctor's…

Holmes and I did not make it back to Baker Street until after 2:00 AM the following morning. A detailed examination of both victims, combined with some clear and clever analysis, and then quick follow up by Thomas led to a vigil at a riverside barge, a frantic foot chase along the river, shouts, screams, and a short, violent struggle. The result was the apprehension of five aspects, and the ringleader of a smuggling gang shot dead. Two of the five were wounded, by Thomas, and me - using a borrowed Webley service revolver, as for once I was not prepared with my own. An hour of paperwork followed, with a promise from Lestrade to come by on Saturday afternoon, for additional details.

Both Holmes and I were beyond exhausted by the time we left Scotland Yard to make our way home. "I owe you a thousand apologies, Watson," said Holmes in the cab, breaking along silence. "Your clothes are, or were, among your professional best. They are now in need of a thorough cleaning, and some repair too, especially your jacket. I will of course cover all costs I also dragged you into something violent without your trusty service revolver. It was a bit much to expect that you would have it on your person after a shift at Barts. I dare say you have always been a crack shot. I tend to think it's long familiarity with your Webley, but you were as accurate with Lestrade borrowed pocket persuader as you are with your own. That was a long shot running at speed. Once again, your actions saved my neck. My thanks!"

"One Webley is pretty much as accurate as another, if it's in good working order. You are always the faster runner, especially with my bad leg. You got to Collins before any of us. I saw the glint of the knife, probably before you did. The rest is just training and instinct. Can't have you dying by the river, Holmes. Imagine trying to explain it to Mrs. Hudson!"

Holmes burst out laughing. "Not a conversation either of us would like to have with her, about each other. I know all too well what my disappearance in May '91 cost her - cost both of you."

"We operate well as a pair; we always have. Lestrade too for that matter. He's small but he's a holy terror for his size, and loyal as a brother would ever be. As for Thomas, you have far more experience with him than I do. Lord is he handy in a fight! Brave as a lion, fast on his feet, and one hell of a shot. Were we ever that fast when we were his age?"

"I was faster than he is at his age," Holmes replied. "I expect you were as good before you were wounded. Your rugby mates and a few of your former soldiers have told me stories over the years. We're both getting older. Neither of us is going to be as fast and capable as we were fifteen years ago. But we have something just as good, maybe even better." Holmes looked at me with a crooked eyebrow, clearly expecting a response.

"Experience, Holmes. Experience and guile!"

"Indeed Watson! Never underestimate the old!"

"It wasn't until a late breakfast later in the day that I heard how the meeting with Bradford and Carrigan had gone. "You were right in every particular, Watson. They came to the meeting clearly expecting an argument or worse. 'Gracious gratitude,' and warm accolades for the team were the last thing they expected from me. They knew they would get no resistance from their subordinates. All the difficulty was supposed to come from me. They were taken aback when they didn't get it, although they tried to hide it. Warning the inspectors - that was a nice touch, Watson. I was not planning on doing it, but their pleasant agreement with me, and the united front we presented, did the trick. The team got praise, promise of support if data comes forward in the future, and laudable references for our expert consultants. If anyone is taking this badly it's the four of them. They just got settled in and were hoping for something of much longer duration. We warned them it might not last long, and they were well paid. It was a valuable experience for all of them. But still, it's a disappointment."

"As a medical man, my personal reference for each of them will be very useful. They will all get one next week."

"Well done, Watson. I too will give them my professional approval. I dare say, with our reputation well established across the country, and even in Europe, our letters will get them further along than any statements from the Commissioner. I'll never say as much to anyone else, but you know it's true: thanks to your writing about our exploits for years. Our four young lads are well set up for their futures."

The rest of the day was spent in companionable silence, with both of us updating our notes on the case, writing additional reports on the previous day's adventure, and giving Lestrade our particulars when he finally arrived after 2:00 PM. Considering how worn out he looked, I realized yet again that I would never want to be a Scotland Yard Chief Inspector. No time for yourself, always on call, forever tied to the job, and endless paperwork. There's really nothing to recommend it.

After Lestrade had completed his report and data gathering on the murders, I asked him about the meeting with Commissioner Bradford. Lestrade gave me a tired smile. "It was a far better experience than I expected or could hope for. Holmes was exceptional. Thank God, he gave us a warning beforehand on how he was going to handle it. Even forewarned, it was still something to behold. Holmes can be persuasive as you well know. But you also know he can be overwhelming at the best of times, certainly intimidating. I haven't seen him turn on the sugar and sweetness, not like that, ever before. I almost felt bad for Carrigan and Bradford - almost. By the time Holmes was done, he could have sold them snowballs in January. He did well by the team, by the consultants, and all us constables and inspectors. Thank you for that, Holmes. You did well by us all we appreciate your kind words."

"Not at all, Inspector," Holmes said. "It was all well deserved."

"He had nice things to say about you too, Watson," Lestrade said. "He left nobody out. In fact, I heard earlier today that there will be a few more days of work for our young consultants. Bradford wants them to go over the case notes and add any finishing touches they deem necessary, followed by a summary report from each of them."

"A good suggestion," said Holmes. "Watson and I have already been working on our equivalent notes and summaries."

"Are we going to have some kind of team send off?" I asked.

"Perhaps next Friday evening?" Lestrade suggested. "It will give everyone time to get their reports in, Mercer and Flynn too. It should work - barring any last moment interruptions such as double murders down by the river! Thank you again for your invaluable assistance, doctor. It's always a pleasure working with you. I must say, you impressed Sergeant Thomas something fierce. 'The man really was a soldier, and a damn good one!' he said. 'Downright nasty in a fight, and clearly handy as hell with a Webley.' I think he's eagerly looking forward to the next time he's in a fight with you."

"How's Collins, the man I shot?" I asked. "I hope he'll recover."

"Oh, He'll recover doctor, but he's got a hanging trial to face. They all do. If not the gallows, it's a life term at Dartmoor."

Lestrade left soon afterwards, with a promise to meet again in a few days. Holmes and I decided to spend the rest of the day quietly. A short walk to Regents Park was followed by a good dinner from Mrs. Hudson, and later, an evening of Holmes playing his violin.

The following day was spent with Holmes conducting some overdue chemical analysis while I went to my club for some billiards with old mates from my regiment. A long-delayed meal at Simpsons with Holmes followed. We talked about the change of pace we both knew was coming this week. Something close to our 'normal routine' Was returning, but we both knew that nothing truly normal would return until we had a resolution for this ugly, dark evil that was left hanging over the poor, young, and powerless women of London. Somehow, we were going to proceed, without a formal team, or many clues, and without a clear consensus even now. But we at least were committed, with permission to proceed.

A lively team send off at Sweeneys Pub did occur that Friday without any homicidal interruptions. Warm regards were expressed, references provided, and promises made for future help if ever we needed it. Both Holmes and I knew we might need that help, and much more besides, before we were through. The inspectors knew it as well, as did Thomas and Mercer. Those who knew Holmes knew he would never give up. Everyone also knew that as long as Holmes was committed, I would be too. We were a matched pair on this. Thomas had his heart in on this as well. Nobody on our team would turn aside if their help was required in future, and we all knew it. London's 'Railway Girls' would not be forgotten or abandoned without a hard fight.

We lost this round, but the battle would continue.