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Watson sits next to Mrs. Hudson on the couch. Harry, Challenger, and Conan sit at the table. Conan and Harry play chess, while Challenger polishes and cleans his long gun.
Holmes stands at the window overlooking Baker Street, his eyes distant.
“Funny thing that fellow turning out to be William’s long lost brother.”
“Harry, no one’s long lost. William despised the fellow and it’s easy to see why, seeing as he’s acted. I imagine William loathed him so much that he just plain erased him from his memories rather than face having such a scoundrel related to him.”
Conan nodded his head in agreement. “I agree with that Challenger. A dark soul tiptoeing through a life of grim possibilities and revenge.”
Holmes didn’t turn around, but he added, “Revenge is sweet only to those who have no taste for life.”
He turned then.
The others looked at him. “But I fear we have not had our last taste of this adventure brought upon us. I wish now I had not brought the three of you into this. I fear for your lives.”
Watson chuckled. “Holmes, you’re the one that told me that yogi fellow advised you to be fearless.”
“And he did exactly that,” Holmes replied with a slight smile. “But that doesn’t make it any easier for me to bear the weight of your possible deaths upon my soul.”
Challenger rocked with laughter. Finished, he wiped at the tears in his eyes. “Ah, Holmes, stop worrying so much about what will or won’t happen.”
“That is not what worries me.”
“Then what?”
“It’s what I can’t see in this.”
Watson got it. “The secret room that Manley died in.”
“That.”
They all grew pensive a moment.
Mrs. Hudson got up and headed for the stairs. “My scones should be ready. Come, my love, help me retrieve them.”
Watson scurried to catch up with her as she vanished down the stairs.
Challenger chuckled. “She’s got him well trained.”
“Had you stayed with our Good Queen Mary of Scots, she would have had you well trained and your head in a hangman’s noose,” Harry teased.
“Likely so, but I would have loved every moment of it.”
They all broke into laughter.
“One thing bothers me about this whole affair though, Holmes.”
“Yes, Conan.”
“How did William’s brother managed to take that leap and not be found on the stage with a broken body.”
“For that matter,” Challenger roared. “At all!”
Harry smiled. His right hand lit up a bright blue. “Let’s just say that he had a few tricks up his sleeve.”
Holmes nodded. “Let’s just hope he has no more.”
“What about the secret room, Holmes?”
“Conan, we need to give this a bit of time to cool down and then we shall return to divine its true purpose.”
He headed for his room. “Good night everyone!”
Watson and Mrs. Hudson returned with two trays of steaming scones, a pot of tea, bowl of honey and sugar and cream.
“Where’s Holmes off to this time?” Watson demanded, setting down his tray and helping Mrs. Hudson with hers.
“Bed.”
“Well, it’s not ruining my dinner!”
He and Mrs. Hudson sat together and they all passed around the pot of tea, honey, crème and sugar and finally the scones.
They all had at least four each.
Mrs. Hudson smirked. She knew Watson had eaten at least four before he followed her up the stairs. The man was incorrigible.
But he was her incorrigible!
After a few minutes they all were eating happily, not a sour face among them.
They neither saw nor heard Holmes climb out his window and descend to the street below, then hurry off without looking back.
He was too excited to sleep. He had learned much more than he had revealed or alluded to. Now was the time to put his hunch to the test, unburdened by any worries over the loss of his friends in the process.
As he hurried off, a dark shadow moved in the alleyway nearby and then stepped onto the street to watch him.
The Stranger.
