The Question of Faith in Baskerville

Chapter Eleven: Between Doctors

John approached the bar where Louise Mortimer was standing. He figured the best way to do this was just be upfront, especially since he had no plans for afterward aside from sleep. "Dr. Mortimer?"

She turned, raising a surprised eyebrow. "Yes?" she asked cautiously.

"Dr. John Watson," he introduced himself. "Recent friend of Henry Knight. I would like a word if I may?"

"What about?" she asked.

"Henry contacted me and my friend, Sherlock Holmes, this morning for some investigative help," John answered. "If you are willing, we can sit down and I can provide you the details."

Dr. Mortimer considered him a moment. "I'll go out on a limb and trust you," she said. She ordered a bottle of wine then allowed John to lead the way to a two-person table. "So, why did Henry come to you?" she asked.

"Sherlock Holmes is a consulting detective," John explained. "Simply put, he solves mysteries and I blog about them."

"The two of you were on the telly last year, weren't you?" she said, faint recognition crossing her face. "During that monster invasion in London."

John chuckled. "I'm starting to think I should start looking for these clips just to know what everyone saw," he said. "But yes, that would have been us. So, maybe we weren't contacted just for the mystery solving aspect but also our monster slaying abilities."

"What happened to Henry's father," Dr. Mortimer guessed.

John nodded. "Henry came to us first thing this morning, giving us what he remembered and the events of last night that convinced him to come to London. Sherlock took the case and we've spent all day investigating, trying to find out if there is really anything behind the hound."

"And you're coming to me because?" she prompted.

"Sherlock and I know you are Henry's therapist," John said. "I fully understand the need of doctor-patient confidentiality. We just hoped that you could even remotely shed some light onto what could be the cause."

Dr. Mortimer sighed. "I'm not really sure how I can help." She poured two glasses of wine, pushing one glass to John before taking a sip from the other. "I can't really offer you anything without breaking that confidentiality."

John nodded slowly, accepting a taste of the wine. A good vintage he had to admit. "What if I were to offer a similar case and you share some theories?" he suggested.

She raised an eyebrow. "I would say you are persistent," she said. "But we can see how it works. So hypothetical case."

John smiled a bit. At least this was worth a try. "Earlier this evening, Sherlock, Henry, and I went to the Hollow," he explained. "For various reasons, I fell behind, but Sherlock and Henry got to the Hollow and both claim to have seen the hound."

"How did your friend react in the aftermath?" Dr. Mortimer asked, alert and business like. An alluring image with the wine glass in her hand.

John casually set his wine down, surprised and somewhat alarmed that half the contents were already gone. "Initially, Sherlock denied it. He was testy, harsh. Once I made sure Henry was safely home, I confronted Sherlock and he became very defensive." He released a long breath. "I'm almost surprised the other patrons aren't talking about how he shouted. The entire encounter wasn't loud or a shouting match admittedly, but . . . he was acting more aggressive than he usually does."

"How does he usually act then?" she asked.

"He prides himself on his observational skills, able to see what others miss or overlook. It is these things that make him such an exceptional detective. He also tends to consider himself without emotions, which for the record is utter nonsense. But," John took a deep breath as he considered, "I would dare to say that part of what knocked him off kilter was that he discovered that he could experience fear."