第 17 页

“Very well...” he paused slightly, “I have to tell you something first...” but I wasn’t listening anymore and cut him short as I took the reins and pulled us up outside 221B.

The landlady informed us that Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson were due back at any moment and ushered us up the stairs to await their arrival.

The sitting room was just as I remembered it. The furniture was wonderfully worn and unpretentious. The air smelt of tobacco while the ambiance was one of relaxed, organised chaos.

I poured myself a drink while Jude paced in front of the fire nervously. I loved the room; an unexpected feeling of warmth and homeliness filled me. It was such a contrast to the grand palatial home I had left behind in which everything was opulent, a conspicuous show of power and wealth. It had been my perfect, immaculate castle with its fragile and imperfect king at the heart. Such a world apart from the cosy dishevelled rooms of 221B and their impressive master.

I just had time to gulp back another drink while Jude began to stammer about being such a fool and letting me down. He was very agitated and not making any sense.

“What is wrong with you?” I snapped impatiently, anxiously waiting for Holmes to stride into the room and desperately hoping that my nervousness wouldn’t show.

Jude stopped pacing and turned to face me.

“I need to tell you something, but you’ll be angry. You’ll hate me.”

“What have you done?” I asked sternly.

At that point footsteps rushed up the stairs and Holmes strode into the room with Watson slightly behind him.

“Tell me!” I screamed, cupping Jude’s face in my hands and shaking it. He reached up and pulled my hands away. “Don’t keep things from me, how dare you keep anything from me!” I shouted, angry and afraid of what the revelation might be. I slapped him across the face. I actually raised my hand and slapped him to the complete surprise of us both.

We glared into each other’s eyes briefly then Jude ran from the room pushing past Holmes and Watson.

“Jude, come back!” I shouted, running after him, but Holmes blocked me. He was much taller than I was and looked down into my intense blue eyes.

He raised a hand to Watson. “Go after him would you?” he asked, and his dutiful friend did as he was bid.

We were alone now and, even writing this after so many years, I find it difficult to describe my feelings. It all sounds so ridiculous, like words written in a cheap, fanciful romantic story.

My infatuation made me feel vulnerable, foolish and pathetic. I could feel his hand burning into my shoulder where he held me and knew that I was getting dangerously out of my depth.

I took a long, deep breath and broke from all this silly nonsense. I rapidly threw up my arm to remove his hand, turned and kicked Holmes hard in the stomach. He was taken completely by surprise and staggered backwards giving enough time for me to swig more Scotch straight from the decanter and steal a cigar from the ornate case next to it.

Holmes recovered and I aimed my revolver at him as I poked the cigar into the fire to light it.

“Get away from the door and let me pass. I look after Jude, no-one else, you understand? How dare you send your lap-dog after him and keep me here.”

I inhaled a wonderful deep drag from the cigar and felt restored enough to suppress my sentimental feelings. Holmes was fully upright now and completely composed. I couldn’t shock him; all my fuss, bluster and hard talking just seemed to wash over him and that deflated me.

I realised that I was consumed by hunger. I hadn’t eaten for days. My head felt light and the room seemed to be moving slightly. I angrily tossed my revolver to the floor and it slid noisily under a fireside chair.

“For God’s sake, what’s the point?” I exclaimed moodily, “keep me here if you want, I came here of my own free will anyway. But at least get me something to eat.”

Holmes bellowed down the stairs to summon his housekeeper while I flopped into a chair beside the fire.

Mrs Hudson regarded me with obvious disgust when she entered the room, particularly as I was still puffing away on the cigar. I looked away from her into the dancing glow of the fire. Holmes issued instructions and she scurried away, back to her quarters below.

Soon she returned, huffing, with a tray of tea, bread, jam and cheese. Clearly she had become accustomed to her eccentric lodger and his strange guests.

Holmes sat facing me, his fingertips pressed together. He watched as I threw the cigar into the fire and then devoured the food. Slowly energy began to flow back through my veins and I felt able to properly observe him for the first time.

He was an unusually handsome man, mid-thirties, with a strong facial bone structure and thick, deep brown hair. He was clean-shaven with flawless pale skin, a slightly long nose and a high forehead betraying his intellect. His eyes were beguiling, dark and intense. He was very slim and tall but powerfully built with broad shoulders and muscular upper arms. He had long agile fingers, thin lips and a wonderful freedom of movement.

He stretched out his long legs towards the fire and watched me intently as I finished off the last few crumbs.

“You have been held captive?” Holmes asked, and I was shocked at the accuracy of his presumption. “You are a wealthy woman Mrs Moriarty, even if I didn’t know your name I could deduce that from the large diamond on your finger. You clearly haven’t eaten for days, so why else would someone not eat when they could easily afford to, unless they were being held captive?”

He smiled briefly at the pile of crumbs collected around my chair and the front of my dress. I was overwhelmed that he knew who I was, and knowing that, wondered why he had not summoned the police.

“I’m not a rich woman any more Mr Holmes, in fact...” I pulled off my wedding ring and the diamond solitaire which had caught his eye and threw them to the floor. “I have absolutely nothing. I’m not Mrs Moriarty any more either. If you know so much about me, why am I still here? You should have sent me towards inevitable incarceration by now not fed me bread and cheese.”

“Because you came here to tell me something and I wish to hear it.”

I felt nervous, afraid of how much he knew. He picked up the rings from the floor and locked them away in his bureau.

“So, what’s for pudding?” I asked cheekily, trying to change the subject and play for time.

He walked back towards the fire and stood in front of me.

“Tell me about the plague Red, tell me how it started.”

“Are you asking for my help?”

I stood up and faced him. “You mean you haven’t reached your own conclusion yet? Oh come now, Mr Holmes, you are losing your touch.”

I was intrigued how he knew I was the wife of his greatest enemy, a man he had failed to bring to justice so many times. I understood that he hoped I would be the key to finally learning the secrets of Moriarty’s organisation. He needed me, and it was thrilling.

Frustration and anger welled up inside him. I wanted to push him until all his controlled, pent-up emotions exploded into the room like a hurricane. I wanted that power, wanted to provoke a reaction.

“I have caused so much trouble right here in your city, right under your nose. I’ve been turning tricks in London for years, since I was a child even, and you don’t know the half of what I’ve done. You’re meant to be a great detective but you didn’t detect me did you?

“You didn’t hand me in when you had the chance all those years ago. Why? Did you underestimate the danger I posed? How pathetic of you. Or did you desire me, even back then, is that the truth?”

I waited for the reaction which never came, then added quietly: “I have always desired you.”

I paused to pour myself a drink and tried to push him one last time.

“I came here for your help but you have no more idea of how to solve this mess than I do. You need my help but I’m as lost as you are. If you’ll excuse me, I need to find my friend.”

But in a rapid movement Holmes grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I raised my other elbow to jab him but he anticipated my move and grabbed that arm too. He glared into my eyes with an expression full of fire. Now I had my reaction.

I pushed against him but he just pushed me back even further, throwing me against the wall, pinning me to it by my wrists.

“How dare you!” I shouted, my wild hair tumbling over my face and shoulders. And then I saw his eyes betray an agonising longing.

While my dearest friend ran through the streets fearing that our friendship was over, and while my husband plotted his next act of evil, Sherlock Holmes kissed me. And to this day the memory lingers.

He kissed me aggressively, pressing my wrists into the wall, as if angry with me for making him feel that way and angry with himself for his own weakness.

It felt so exhilarating. Never before had I kissed anyone who was attractive to me. Such behaviour had been just a way of getting what I wanted. I had always been fully in control, but now I was lost in unknown territory.

He drew away suddenly and let go of my wrists before sliding his hands hungrily up my neck and into my hair. Silently, he drew me close and kissed me again, a blissful capitulation that made my taut and scarred body ache for him. I was so very experienced sexually but emotionally I was virginal and suspected that he was the same in this respect.

Deep longings that had been suppressed now exploded. Truly the hurricane was released.

His sensitive long fingers began caressing and exploring my body with a rough, hungry intensity. He lifted me against the wall, slamming me hard against it. I wrapped my legs around his waist and clutched his back, pulling him ever closer.

It did not take long for us both to be crying out to each other, holding on to each other’s bodies until finally the passion overwhelmed us both, ripping through us then subsiding into the most glorious surrender.

Then we heard footsteps on the stairs and sprang apart. He pulled me into an adjoining room, slamming the door. I grasped his hand with urgency and whispered quickly; so much to say and so little time.

“I’ve never loved him, James Moriarty. He plucked me off the streets, just a brave little thief who he wanted to possess, mould into his ambassador. I thought it was a fantastic opportunity, a way of getting an education, power and wealth.

“But, all I got was disillusioned. Please, you have to help me. I had the antidote formula but he’s taken it. Please help me find it before it’s too late. I’ve done some terrible, terrible things in my life but this is too much. I don’t want this life. I don’t want to be Red Moriarty anymore.”

We re-arranged our clothes hurriedly and stepped back into the sitting room to join Watson accompanied by the absconded Jude.

“Fear not,” said Holmes, “Watson has brought us the first player in our story.”

“Jude?” I asked, regarding Holmes with curious surprise, his face still flushed and his hair tussled.

I looked at Jude and remembered how I had slapped his face.

“I’m so sorry Jude,” I cried, and ran to put my arms around my friend.

“Tell her what you did Jude?” commanded Holmes, walking towards us.

Jude lifted his tear-stained face towards mine.

“I’m so sorry Red, I had to give it to him. I did it to protect you.”

I stood back in surprise and confusion. He continued:

“The guard said that he had been ordered by the professor to kill you if I didn’t give it to him, he loaded a gun in front of me and headed for your room where the professor had made you captive. I had no choice. I’m so sorry.”

I was overwhelmed but drew my broken friend back into my arms. I knew that whatever he had done was from the purest of motives.

I gently cupped his face in my hands.

“Who was the man Jude? You must tell us everything, I won’t be angry. What did you give him?”

“A guard in the same uniform as all the others at our house, but I hadn’t seen him before. He held the gun to the back of my head. I couldn’t fight back and I didn’t get a good look at his face. He told me to hand over your secret, give him what you would not give your husband. Then I remembered the papers hidden in your drawer. I didn’t know they were the antidote until you told me while we were held captive together.

“I’m sorry, truly I am. That guard must have been sent by the professor and now he will have the antidote. I feel so ashamed that I have handed over the one thing that could save us all to the very person least likely to care.”

Holmes walked towards us and placed a hand on Jude’s shoulder.

“On the contrary, the person you handed those papers to does care very deeply and has already given the antidote formula to the appropriate authorities. I believe that the country’s top scientists are now very close to completing its construction and the government will be able to begin its treatment programme across London within days.

“Sadly that will be too late for some, but a major national catastrophe has been avoided. The only remaining unfortunate situation is that Moriarty has escaped and I have no proof of his involvement. Which is why I hope you will both assist me in this matter and in some way begin to atone for your part in all of this.”

Jude and I both looked at Holmes in utter bewilderment, trying to understand, willing our slow, inferior brains to catch up with his meaning.

“Was it you? Were you the guard who threatened Jude?” I asked.

“Yes. You see, you were wrong. You underestimated me Red; I knew a lot more than you presumed.”

Jude went faint, a mix of hunger and shock. He collapsed onto the settee with his eyes transfixed on the fire.

How could Holmes have found out so much and managed to get into the house without the professor’s knowledge? I felt angry, like I’d been played for a fool. I had trusted Holmes, given myself to him completely but he had held something back. I turned on him furiously.

“Why didn’t you tell me all this earlier? Did you enjoy stringing me along? How dare you!”

I then noticed that Watson seemed very calm about these revelations too. I turned on him ready to explode.

“You knew didn’t you? Smug, pompous, boring old Doctor Watson who writes his silly little articles and traipses around after his friend like a pathetic pet dog! You’re laughing at me now aren’t you? Both of you! You’re enjoying every moment of this.”

I just felt so let down; I had given myself sexually and emotionally for the first time in my life to someone I felt I could no longer trust. I was determined not to let my hurt show and have my little moment of revenge.

“Well done Mr Homes, how clever and decent you are for saving the day yet again. I’m sure all this will make a lovely piece for your friend to write. But, the thing is Doctor Watson, it’s probably best not to include the part where your upstanding and righteous friend slammed me against that wall and had his way with me just now!”