For All Our Sakes

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Watson

"Thank you so much!" gushed the young Dr. Lewis for the umpteenth time.

"It was nothing, really," I replied, smiling back at him, and closed the door of his practice behind me. As I started toward Baker Street, I noticed that the London air had had grown foggier during the five-odd hours I had spent diagnosing patients and prescribing medications. Filling in for Lewis had not been overly difficult, as the usual winter illnesses had already run their course for the year. I was about to call for a cab when I realised that a familiar weight was missing from the pocket of my coat.

I had left my pocketbook back at the flat.

Since I had walked to Lewis's practice, I hadn't even noticed until now. Although I am not easily annoyed by such trivialities, and I was only a good twenty minutes walk away from the rooms I shared with Holmes, I was still a little irritated; not only was it foggier now than it was earlier, the wind had picked up and it looked as though it would likely rain. I pulled my ulster more closely round me, adjusted my grip on my stick and doctor's bag, and trudged onward.

Said irritation increased tenfold when a few raindrops fell from the sky, heralding the arrival of the veritable downpour which soon followed.

I had been walking for no more than ten minutes when I noticed a pair of figures that seemed to be following me. My years of living and working with Holmes had made overly suspicious on that point, so I hastened to assure myself that they only happened to be going the same direction as I was. But even so, I took a roundabout detour through several different alleyways and side streets (I was now very glad Holmes had forced me to learn most of the byways within reasonable walking distance of our flat) in an attempt to shake them off in case they really were pursuing me.

When I glanced over my shoulder again, I realised with a jolt that not only were they still behind me, they were far closer than before and still gaining!

Quickening my pace, I turned right at the next corner I reached, and left after that, then glanced up at a street sign. I was on Marylebone Road. Panting a little now, and shivering as the rain rolled down the back of my neck and soaked into my shirt, I crossed to the side closer to the flat in Baker Street, and made for the nearest alleyway, wishing in vain that I had thought to bring my revolver…and maybe an umbrella. I hurried to the other end without looking back, took another left turn, and didn't slow to catch my breath until in the middle of the next alley.

As I squinted into the fog before me, I saw three men walking swiftly in my direction, all armed with sticks and one with what appeared to be a heavy lead bludgeon. I glanced back through the downpour and saw my two original pursuers. I cursed myself for choosing this particular alley; it was completely deserted in both directions. Fear and anxiety knotted my insides, but adrenaline fueled my energy and heightened my senses. Could I make it around the two behind me if I ran past them quickly enough? That would be the last thing they would expect me to do, especially on the slick cobblestones of the alleyway.

I turned on my heel, and rushed at them as quickly as I could, and hit the man on my right—a thin man with blond hair—in the knees with my stick and he crumpled to the ground. I didn't have long to celebrate my victory, however, as I was immediately tripped by the red-headed man on my left.

My feet flew out from under me and a moment later I hit the ground—hard. My doctor's bag and stick flew out of my grip when I tried to protect my face from the ground, and my arms took the brunt of the fall, but the impact jarred my entire frame. I felt my forehead scrape against the wet stones. I scrambled to my feet, disconcerted by the fall and now acting on sheer instinct rather than brain power.