14 October 1881

I am now on the night train to Paris and have completed my report to Colonel Sir Cameron Beachy-Edwards. It’s been days since the submarine boat episode, and things have settled down quite a bit. My thoughts have returned to the start of this adventure, when the Colonel identified Uncle Declan. I had regretted our failure to save his life, but would he have wanted to live without legs? Would he have wanted to be a half a man? He had endured suffering, but his search for truth and justice never ceased. His teaching during our visits to the museum was similar to Dr. Bell’s. He told me to observe carefully before deciding on a course of action. It is essential to gather facts in order to know the truth. Uncle Declan courageously gave his life in honor of that noble pursuit. I am proud of that legacy in our family and hope it will help lessen mam’s grief.

David Campbell is reading a novel by Dostoevsky while Sasha sits at his feet, twitching and whining, as if, in her dreams, she is chasing a rabbit.

After the near-catastrophe on Sunday, Dr. Bell had convinced the tsar to take his son south for fresh air and sunshine and ensure that the royal family was well out of danger.

And in the end, since Vera and Ivanov had committed no crime, I convinced the colonel and Dr. Bell to stay mum about their involvement with the plot. They were chastened and vowed to be good citizens of the tsar. Pavlov even agreed to employ both in his laboratory.

Ah, Dear Dr. Bell. At present, he is with Sir Cameron Beachy-Edwards in a separate compartment. The two of them have become quite companionable while they enjoy a tot of single malt and compare notes on criminal investigation.

Sadly, he still uses cocaine, but his use seems to be in moderation.

And Penelope? Dear, unfathomable Penelope returned to England on the royal yacht with Bertie. It is rumored that he has taken her as a mistress. I may never hear from her again. I will miss her, but perhaps that it is just as well. Who knows? Maybe one day, she will marry the prince and be the next Queen of England. Perhaps, instead, she will continue her dangerous double life. Or maybe - just, maybe - she might miss me and come back to cover me with her sweet kisses. Is that even what I want?

Oh well. At least with this adventure over, I am free to go back to my beloved Scotland and focus on my medical career. If I am lucky, and it is not Penelope who is destined to be Mrs. Doyle, perhaps I will fall into the arms of that pretty Scottish nurse back home. Even if those plans don’t work out, Sasha will certainly be my faithful companion for many years to come. After all, dogs are said to be man’s best friend...

Perhaps, someday, I will publish the stories in this journal so the world can learn about how I, in a small way, assisted Dr. Bell. It was really through his keen mind that we saved Europe from a great war!

In the meantime, last night I had a dream that gave me a glimmer of an idea for a story. I imagined a great detective in the very image of Dr. Bell who solves the most difficult crimes. Of course, he would require an assistant, perhaps a rather bumbling physician, such as myself...