Friends Indeed

“You mark my words, when this case comes to be cleared up you will find that a woman named Rachel has something to do with it. It’s all very well for you to laugh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. You may be very smart and clever, but the old hound is the best, when all is said and done.”

—Dr. John H. Watson, A Study in Scarlet.

Early Sunday morning, with my service revolver in my pocket and the tantalizing thrill of the wonderfully unknown before me, I hurried down our Baker Street stairs. Climbed into a cab, “St. Pancras, cabbie!”

He drove me beneath the tower driveway and we were secreted into the mammoth red-bricked hotel. I left the cab and ran through the high-arched marble columned entranceway. Then climbed the elaborate double staircase where gold marble and ironwork roses led the way to the second floor Women’s Smoking Room. A first of its kind in town created for the New Woman. I took a moment to enjoy the ease of her approach, “Alfie!” She dowsed her cigarette and moved towards me with the grace I wanted to become used to and offered my arm. Quietly enjoying our warmth and nearness we walked down to breakfast. Our waiter seated us and we both spoke at once.

“I’m so glad you could come.”

“It’s good to see you, John.” We chuckled at this eagerness and put in our breakfast order.

“Alfie, you are very beautiful.” I took her hand. “Are you safe, have you had any more problems since our wild escape?” The wine arrived. She tasted and approved it, flustering our server, who looked to me and following my nod, poured the wine. We drank the first glass to stifle our laughter.

“Doctor, thanks to your courage and experience my flat is still my sanctuary. There is a group of young street boys who have taken up residence in the park. Do you know anything about it?”

“Holmes’ Irregulars, they are on guard and will bring us in if any trouble arises.”

“Thank you and please thank Sherlock for me. But he uses such urchins?”

“It is work, probably the only offered to them on the right side of the law. They are paid for it and are loyal to him. Holmes hopes to show them there are legal paths out of poverty. Alfie, I am in awe of what you’ve accomplished.”

“As I am of your superb stories, John.”

“Holmes and I use our different talents in the same pursuit.” I took her hand. “And you render me speechless.” I kissed her fingers. “Alfie, what do you want in a man?”

“Oh, John, I think you know. A handsome gentleman of letters, who can handle a gun surely and unaffectedly, who welcomes intelligent women, and who actively supports the cause one has devoted her life to achieve.” And she kissed my cheek. Honoured by her strength of character I kissed her. When she opened her eyes, I was lost in the electric blue of her heavenly gaze. Promptly, the check arrived and was paid.

Arm in arm, like naughty children, we laughed and slowly moved towards our carriage. Down corridors filled with elaborately tiled floors of ornately handsome Celtic design filled with roses. Our walk through the labyrinthine halls of St. Pancras came to an end on the secluded hotel driveway where we engaged a cab. She was on her way to a suffragist meeting. And I returned to that gentleman impatiently waiting to gather from the clues of my demeanour the result of this auspicious breakfast. Nevertheless, one needn’t be Sherlock Holmes to deduce the joy that exuded from my being or that the heat that arose from the parting kiss within our carriage was filled with the promise of future engagement.

And so began the most wondrous affair of my life. Alfie chafed under legal marriage ties. She believed in the free union, the state had no say over her heart. And I found to my astonishment that my heart was easily won over to what for me were extremely radical views. As a suffragist leader she lived with the constant threat of Scotland Yard at her heels. At our clandestine meetings she relaxed in my presence, with the knowledge that for these precious moments she was safe as Holmes in my company.

At Baker Street, Miss Rachel was happily home again for the weekend. As it turned out, her appearance in London at this time was of considerable value.

Holmes and Irene walked up the stairs, he said, “But a good place to start, I would think, would be noble gossip.”

Mr. and Mrs. Holmes joined us, entering from the landing as Mrs. Hudson brought us together for lunch.

“And just the sort of activity I’d adore,” Mrs. Holmes said.

“Irene, do you think this is something Rachel might add to her schooling?”

“Oh, yes, what fun!” Rachel said.

“But my dear you will have to dress in finery and observe the strictest codes of conduct.” Mrs. Holmes laughed.

“Yes, and get to meet so many titled women who would tell a young lady more than they would tell an adult.” She devoured a sandwich.

“Oh, we might discuss your ‘first season,’ though it wouldn’t actually be for another two years, it takes planning, and we are right with the timing.” She poured herself a cup of tea added a cube of sugar, and spread relish onto her sandwich.

“What’s that?”

“It’s full of dances and parties, where you meet eligible young gentlemen. All young women of character come out in society this way.”

“But I won’t really have to do this?” She downed another sandwich, poured tea.

“Of course not, dear. Yet it’s an ideal reason to be in the centre of gossip. When do we start, Sherlock?”

“Irene, as soon as you are able.”

She picked up a newspaper from the floor. Holmes watched her and she beamed a smile back at him. “Lady Beryl is throwing an early tea. She actually came backstage the other night. I’ll encourage her to send you an invitation, Rachel. We’ll have to dress the part, let’s do that after lunch?” She placed the newspaper back where she found it.

“Should I bring my derringer?”

“Not necessary dear, just appropriate undergarments.”

After the meal, they excused themselves and left for their costume adventure.

That evening, Miss Rachel and Miss Jane, friends from baritsu class paraded to the ABC Teashop after catching the evening performance of As You Like It at the Royal Victoria Hall and Coffee Tavern. With the fading sun they moved towards Waterloo Station. Behind an empty store window, a match was lit. It froze the image of a woman rushing toward the door. A tall man grabbed her and with one hand over her mouth, dragged her back into the darkness as the light was doused.

With a finger to her lips, Miss Rachel whispered, “Susannah, it’s Susannah!” She nodded to her friend and picked up a brick, threw it through the window. They leaped through the jagged edges and confronted the two men. Using a glass shard Miss Rachel freed Susannah who joined the fight. In minutes, they had the men tied up and talking. Miss Rachel’s gun caught the candlelight and was trained on them.

The police were called, but before they arrived, she questioned them. “Who sent you?”

“Never!”

She adopted a calm, disinterested tone. “It’s nothing to me your necks are on the line. Those football boots on your feet are your doom. The police will see this as proof of your involvement in four murders and you will hang for all of them. That is unless you tell me the truth.”

“Smith sent us!”

Blandy kicked him and knocked him down. “Shut up, fool, we’re dead men!”

“Not if he’s hanged!” Walker got up, moved away from him. Blandy lunged towards the door, Rachel fired a warning shot, and her friends sat him on the floor.

Walker continued, “He did the first one, you heard of it, miss? Then he got rung up and paid well to do the one in the church. He brought in those of us who was left. Idea Man, he calls himself. Boss used to brag that he worked for someone high up, House ‘o Commons or a Peer—never believed him. He’s the one behind it all. He’s the one you want.”

She thought, Are these the men who killed Ethel? And she cocked her pistol. “Oxford?” she said.

“I had nothin’ to do wit’ that!”

Holmes, Lestrade, Das, the officers, and I arrived.

Lestrade doffed his hat, “Miss Rachel, nicely done, girls. These knots again. Officer McBride, take ‘em!”

Holmes grabbed her in a hug, then held her out and scrutinized her. “Are you all right?”

“Not even scratches. I acted disinterested and they told me all, a beautiful strategy, Papa. I fired a warning that’s all.”

I consoled two rather well-muscled young ladies. He smiled to me and we climbed into our four-wheeler to join Lestrade at the Yard. Miss Jane was bleeding from a glass cut which I attended in the carriage, but other than that, they were unscathed.

Miss Rachel said. “Be very gentle with Susannah, Doctor, she is the victim. Although I doubt she felt like it after trouncing her attackers.”

“Thank God my sisters showed up. You came through that window, like Rosalind leaping into the Forest of Arden! And well met,” Miss Susannah said.

They hugged and clasped hands. Laughing over the particulars of the battle, like the heroines they were. Holmes and I exchanged a smile over the exuberance of these young champions. Their actions did more for me than my research. They were women of valour, fearlessly taking on the uncertainties of their world and enjoying the camaraderie of their great-hearted battle as much as any young men in uniform. And as a warrior, I exalted in their victory as did they.