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[Sherlock Holmes] My Infinite Variety (A Case of Identity) 5 / 5

Title: My Infinite Variety (A Case of Identity)
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes / Watson
Rating: R
Word Count: 41,410 (W) Part
: 5 / 5
Warning: Slash, what if, something else that comes to mind now
Notes: What if EMPT up.
Written by: [info] bigbangitalia , second edition.


1 so to speak, since no one was ever caught in practice, but all they did, and quite another thing in a stable relationship between two adult men in London, and two not exactly unknown to the public. My widow played in our favor, but it was necessary the utmost discretion and caution. I have learned with difficulty to always close all the doors, to consider the presence in every moment of my household and their location are more likely to calculate the thickness of the walls and floors to make sure that no noise would reach the wrong ears. I learned the correct position of the lamp because you do not cast shadows on the curtains closed, and that the windows were not our friends. I learned to take a neutral stance whenever I spoke affectionately of Holmes, and to speak neither too much nor too little, with the proper posting of a friend. There is no doubt that the benefits of repaying the hardships, but I welcomed the change with relief. France was a friendly country, a Paris beauty. I would not have given up in London for the world, but comforted me for a few days, you can stop worrying. Holmes gave me the first evening demonstration, involving them in a rather adventurous interlude in an alley of Montparnasse. was he who opened the letter. Beth had me on the desk to find the mail of the week, meticulously neat in accounts payable and letters personal, but quite honestly, when I had other thoughts come to mind. The pleasure of being at home, the little rediscovery of all things familiar, albeit after a short period in a foreign land, had done wonders for my mood slightly irritated from the trip. I was sitting at the table to attend to what was there to attend to, reluctantly, and then Holmes had joined me there and opening the mail had been delayed. "You got me distracted," I said some time later, pleasantly exhausted in my chair. I had to compose myself, but the door was shut and Holmes sat, still half-naked, in the chair opposite me. I do not know how he desperately stylish look with one leg thrown over the armrest, his shirt open to his navel and the member out of his pants. One day I would have applied to seek the answer.

"rudeness on my part, I admit," said Holmes, stretching his arm behind the back. "I must say, Watson, with all your distaste for secrecy can not remember a meeting like this ... is significant in all the time we spent in Paris, where we could do what we like."
"It is a reproach?"
"Not at all. Anything else would be disastrous - if rifiorissi to life only one or two weeks a year, when going on holiday. "

"In all honesty continues to seem a reproach. Do not spare my feelings, please. I was so terrible, in Paris? The man's face it, "swore solemnly.

"Terrible?" Instead of continuing in the ironic, Holmes' tone changed dramatically. He pulled down his leg from the arm and stood up, impossibly sensual in

that would seem to put anyone else an idiot. "My boy," he said, half sitting on the edge of the desk, the other foot on the floor, leaning toward me in a slow down, "you ignore the very definition of 'terrible'." The

rested a hand on her neck. Holmes was right, Paris was not the case. I always wanted, but most of all I wanted in my house, among the objects that were familiar to me, where his presence was not striking contrast, but the culmination of everything. I felt a slight tremor of desire, and premature away like an echo of the one just consumed, but Holmes pulled back.

"Later," he muttered, pulling off my hand from her hair.

ributtai me back in his chair. "Help me, then," I said pointing to the match so beautifully ignored. "If you keep at home that still have gas and running water ..."

"I thought that paying a rent frees me from having to manage the house for the landlord," said Holmes, but he took the first bag from the pile of bills and opened with two strokes of the knife sharp.
was true that I was paying a rent, because I had failed in any way to convince him not to. In the end, because my refusal to accept the money had been resolved in a fight in three days of silence and obstinate on both sides, we reached a compromise: the money would be set aside for the needs of the house. They were kept separately, and I care not to use them for something he never, directly or indirectly, it did not benefit too.
We started with the accounts, dividing them by type, and in this way we finished them in no time. That left the personal letters. Those addressed in Holmes, Beth had taken care to leave the ex-ante hours adapted to a consultation room, and Holmes had already opened and peeled before coming to 'distract'. Now he got up, intending to leave the discretion to my business, but I took a bag and threw it to him in her lap.

"I do not want to be here to consider post until tomorrow," announced by opening up another drawn with the emblem of the Medical Society of London.
And you can read my mail, if you like, because I have no secrets and if he had I discover them all, I have no fears, take everything you need to take, I'm offering.


Holmes stood a moment and said nothing, but it touched my fingers to take the opener. While

read, comment out loud the content or identity of the sender. Holmes believed that the letters do not concern me the past announced the author. "Illegible signature. Probably a doctor. "" Miss Violet Farnsworth. "" Oh, Mrs. Whitaker. "" Doctor. "" Mr. Wilkinson. '"Mr. ... No, I give up. Doctor. "

Then silence fell. After some time I looked up curiously. Holmes was extremely pale.

"Holmes?" When I answered him, he rested a hand on his knee. "What? What does it say? "
Holmes dropped the paper on the desk and spun around, reaching the library in the far corner of the room.
The letter said:



Dear Dr. Watson,

I am writing in response to your advertisement in the number of

Times of May 7 this year. The person you describe matches in every way with my poor brother William, who fled in late April by the pious institution from which we had found a welcome. The poor man is no longer severely disturbed: it is not in itself the most of the time, can not remember the names of his family and thinks he is strange characters, none lasting more than a few months. Doctor, you do not know that I have brought joy to read your ad, although with so much delay! It was surely the hand of Providence in guiding my attention to that old newspaper, as well as to conduct by William Lei

If you have recent news of my brother, please, tell me. My husband and I are terribly sorry for his fate.

Sincerely,

Henrietta Chapman

Now I understood how he must have heard Holmes when the world was crazy about him. It was a terrifying vertigo, an agony in the chest, a trickle of reason, was dropped from a height and infinite knowledge that there would be a bottom. It felt so horrible that I would do anything, whatever, just to drive it away. And Holmes had lived all this, but luckily had passed, and now these people ...
I turned away, arms outstretched and hands clasped around the edges of the library, her knuckles white from the effort, as the cross.

"I know I've never known any Henrietta Chapman."

"Holmes ..."
"Do not meet them. And I forbid you to answer. Do you understand, Watson? I forbid. "

" Holmes. "

He turned. The posture was controlled, his arms stiff at his sides, and his mouth was firm and tight in a line. But the eyes were altered. The eyes of a madman.

"Do not meet them," he repeated.

"Okay," I muttered. "Okay," I repeated, louder. "I will not let these people. As far as I care, you may be the queen with all the imperial court and would still take you away over my dead body. "Resumed confidence, seeing that my words had some positive effects, which seemed to calm him down. "But we to be rational. If your relatives are, it is important that we meet them. "

" Why? "He said. "I'm not quite as isolated phenomenon

? I need an entire family tree to keep you interested? "

With a sigh, I brought my hands to the eyes and rubbed them until you see flashes of multicolored light behind his eyelids. "God knows if it looks like a nightmare," I whispered. "Do you think I would prefer not to tear the letter, pretend not to have ever received? Do you think

happy? "

" I think your damn sense of honor we lose both, "he said, teeth tight.

"I will not let you go, Holmes. But is your family
. We have been trying for months, I felt about you. Imagine how you would feel if tomorrow I vanish into thin air. "
" I do not need to imagine, "said Holmes.
"Well," I said, "then you know that we can not pretend nothing happened."
"And how do you explain that these souls in torment, these relatives caring, have not thought about putting an ad missing person or to review columns looking for a listing as yours? How do you explain that Mrs. Chapman has stumbled

by chance in an old newspaper three months? "
" I do not know, "I said, tired. "You like you explain it?"
"I do not mean, and that is precisely why I do not like."

"Okay," I admitted. "There are some unclear points. It is one more reason to meet these people? Just think how good it could be drawn. We might discover your past, your roots. Not because I'm interested in your genealogy, Holmes, but because every man is entitled to his past and you're not the exception. I can only imagine that your condition is terrible, and I think it destroys. I can not be your only link with the rest of humanity. If we can somehow overcome this lack, I think we should do it. "

Holmes grabbed the armrests of my chair and made her turn toward ninety degrees, so that now we were facing one another. I took his head in his hands.
"Why?" He asked. "Why were you scared when you wrote your friend and you're so quiet? Why do you talk to me meet people who could ruin everything, that could throw me in a sanitarium for life? I have not explained clearly enough that this would be death for me? Why, in God's name, because
knowing all this you even meet them? "The

rested her hands on her cheeks. I had never seen him so frightened and against - in spite of the horrible feeling of having an empty space where once was my stomach - I had never felt so polished.

"It was not fear, was disgusted with myself. Holmes, you have my word that will not get you anywhere. If you are caring people who seem to see for themselves that it is much better for you to stay here rather than spend the rest of your days in an asylum. And if not, I will use other topics. If necessary, I'll pay your weight in gold because it will leave us in peace. In one way or another, the situation we will accommodate, and in return we will know who you are now. I know this has value for you, even if you try to deny it. You who can not tolerate an unsolved enigma, really want me to believe does not want to melt your? "

His hands slowly retreated from my temples, and so I took my slowly from his face. He straightened to his full height.

"If that woman is my sister and I have been declared of unsound mind, then it is my legal protection. If you decide to apply to a judge to let me take away, you will not do anything. Nothing, Watson. "
" On the contrary, "I said with determination. "I could go to a friend and get a certificate, stating that apart from amnesia, you're perfectly sane. I could say that Napoleon Bonaparte and give me a cell next to yours. We could escape to France. As you can see, there is a wide range of alternatives. "
" The curiosity to find out my name and my father was a notary or a farrier does not apply any of these monstrous alternatives. "

" The worth all, and beyond, "I said softly. "Holmes, listen, why do not we sleep on and I'll talk about tomorrow? For one reason or another, these conversations always come when we are both exhausted. "

nodded reluctantly and I can say that it was a good idea, because the next morning, Holmes was himself again, calm and controlled, without that look awful, as if about to fall apart at any moment.

"We will write to Mrs. Chapman," he told mo 'greeting, while still struggling to emerge from sleep.

"Oh, really?" I muttered. "Magnificent. Good morning to you too. "

Holmes I lifted her chin with his thumb and I pressed a kiss on the lips. Oh, must be in excellent spirits.

"But since I have no intention of ending my day with a straitjacket nor change of nationality, we will things my way. "

The rested a hand on her neck. "Okay."

"Watson, I have not even told what it is."

"It does not matter. Whatever it is, okay. "I closed my eyes. "Love, do not believe that I do not care, but that clock marks the five and a half hours and another hour and a half hours of sleep would make a big difference to me," I muttered into the pillow. "For good."

I heard him huffing and the weight on the mattress shifted abruptly, but was already asleep again before Holmes began to fumble around the room. Tuttavia è probabile che il suo buonumore mi avesse contagiato, perché wonderfully rested and woke an hour later in great shape.

Holmes was in the living room, sitting in front of his breakfast, but he had lifted a lid or a cupful, and instead he smoked thoughtfully with his feet on the edge of your seat and knees against the table. The boundary of the gray robe, too long on one side, hanging on the floor.

"Hello." I touched his shoulder in the next pass. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm-mm."

took place and I need, without ceasing to look at him sideways. "Eggs?" I offered.

"No, thanks, nothing for me," he murmured, taking the root of the nose between your thumb and ring fingers, the cigarette between the index and middle finger. "Watson, we must talk."

nodded. "I'm glad you've changed your mind," I said to mo 'debut.

"And to me that you were listening to. While you were sleeping, I have perfected the details in my mind. It surprises me that you never have thought to put a chair there, "he pointed," the window. Before Sunrise is an ideal place to meditate. "

" I do not often before dawn to meditate, "I admitted. "What conclusions did you come?"

"Three points, and a number of secondary. A: Mrs. Chapman or someone you will never see me. Two: for them and all those like them, you do not know where to find me, you are not in touch with me, you do not hear from me recently. Three: Your friend Sherlock Holmes is out of town and do not know when he comes back. "

" Wait, wait, "I interrupted. "What does it matter that has to do ... Sherlock Holmes Sherlock?"

"Maybe nothing," he said. "But if they are in place, decide to make the tour, I want you to clarify that the beast is not rare at home."

sighed. "Holmes, I understand your point of view, but consider: it makes no sense
I
meet your relatives. Want to seeing you again, is that you must recognize. "

" But it so happens that I do not have any desire to see them, "he said. "I admit that is an elegant solution, Watson. You'll have your answers, I mine, and they - within certain limits - their own. If necessary, we will later consider a meeting. Under certain conditions. "

" What are you afraid? "

" Oh, please. Do not make me repeat the list. "

" All right. Rephrase the question. Why will not you see? I understand that you do not feel safe, but it would be only natural to want, even if you do not remember them. I mean, "I hesitated," is really what I think or do it for my benefit? Because if so, I assure you ... "
" What? "I asked, blankly.
"What I have every confidence in you, and I will support whatever you decide. So I want you to decide freely. Do not intend to be your friend obstacle. "

Holmes with deliberate slowness crushed the butt in the ashtray. "Do you think that our life, the only thing I own and I hold dear, myself could stand in the way?" In spite of the sweetness of words, voice was surely devoid of inflection.

"could," I replied, not be misled. "I do not want you decide to make hasty decisions."

"Do not you ever decide to make hasty, Watson. I've got to analyze it from all angles while you drooling on the pillow. "

" Thank you. Anyway. "

" We talk about the real problem, however. You feel guilty about the fact that my idea of happiness includes tea rather than mental health, and now you have a way to relieve the conscience you feel relieved. Want to have a chance to heal, but do not want me to go. Want to stay, but do not want to have any part in the choice. "

Serrai the jaw. "I love you and want you to be happy. I do not know how you can make them seem like something so horrible. "

" It's horrible, "he retorted. "Really, it is not. But it is not running unnecessary risks that emerge from this
cercle vicieux
. Just you, you talk about making snap decisions, you should think more calmly. "

" Well, "I said, trying with all my strength not to sound petulant or wounded," then just tell me what to do and I will follow the instructions. "

" Ah, Watson, "she sighed, as if I said anything incredibly stupid and incredibly sweet at the same time. I went back to my bacon not to be compelled to answer or look at him.

We were silent for a few minutes, I aim to breakfast, just nibble Holmes, but it was a tense silence, full of thoughts. Holmes was right on my guilt, but this did not make more bearable the things I had said. And there was the specter of this meeting on the horizon, of course, to make it more heavy.

"I have a feeling," he finally said, cautiously. He said it as if the word 'feeling' was biting an animal to be treated with the utmost care.
"I thought that Sherlock Holmes not rely on feelings, "I said, unable to hold back a bit 'of sarcasm.
"No, in fact," he confirms. "But nevertheless I feel it, and do not like. No, I should be more precise, I do not feel at all. It is an absence of feeling, an emptiness where there should be something. "

" I do not understand. What?

you chew the inside of the cheek thoughtfully. "These people. You're right, of course, is not it natural that feels no desire to see them. But it is so. There is nothing. "

" But you did not even met. Perhaps, seeing them ... "

"I miss my brother at times. Atrocious. And Mrs. Hudson. Sometimes it seems to me that even Lestrade, if only once came through the door ... But these people, not so much that I do not know

who they are, but not

hear anything? I do not like it, Watson. I would never do anything which tried to drive every trace of my existence from the mind of another. I can not even conceive of a thing. "

I considered the thought for a moment. "It seems a little 'just to follow that they are unworthy."

"not derived anything, Watson. I just know that if they have never had a place in my heart, lost without trace. "

not said with a sad voice or affected, in all honesty, as if he did not say what caused him nothing but a deep perplexity. But it seemed to me a terribly sad thing to say. I stretched a hand on the table, palm upwards. I was angry with him, but not so much to offer not comfort me whenever I seemed to need it, and some more for safety.
Holmes did not smile, he was still thinking, but he took my hand and turned it over, stroking his knuckles. "It would be stupid of you to believe that I can not evaluate your opinion. Or do not listen. "
" Ah, it would be stupid

by
my
, "I said, smiling despite myself.

"Yes, because I spend a lot of attention to one thing and another. I know that once ... "He hesitated. A slight wrinkle of disappointment appeared on the front. "Let's just say that I remember other occasions when I have not struggled so much to convince you of my point of view."

"I was more malleable, before '91," I suggested politely.

Holmes I just reserved a quick glance, check. "I suppose so. I wish you would trust to leave anyway and that we do things my way. Should we determine that there is danger, we will always be time to find out our cards. "
We agreed, because it defines the details and before lunch I sent a telegram to Mrs. Henrietta Chapman, a concise message in which I asked to meet at my studio if she was comfortable, and to propose the date and time according to his needs. The answer came before dinner, and the meeting was set for two days without other pleasantries after eleven. Holmes confiscated the letter and the telegram and all the next day I saw him at all. Part of the morning remained in his study to see old newspapers, asking not to be disturbed, then went out. He had to do research, but I do not I asked and he did not tell me anything. Not heard back. Late at night I scontrai with her body in the darkness of the bed, his arms and legs were cold, as if he had just slipped under the covers, and even though it was a rather warm night.
I heard him crawling on my pillow, a strand fresh touched my cheek. Then I seemed to hear him hold his breath, as if to say something, but no sound came out. Took a breath for a second time, and then whispered: "Russians tremendously in this position," a strange voice from the route that I took for laughter, but could have been a hiccup.

I embraced the dark and sank back into the darkness from which I had emerged, bringing down with me my prize.

Mrs. Chapman was accompanied by her husband. She was high and dry, a bit 'over forty, with an aquiline face and clear eyes. There I found many similarities, except for the thin lips, the fold demurely, that reminds me of my friend. Her husband, however, was a stout man with ruddy cheeks, under his wife in his ways, but not harsh or rude in itself. They were indeed both the epitome of kindness and good manners, in that way that it is spontaneous and free of the petty bourgeoisie, just a few spans from the lower classes.

I made them wait in the lounge. I felt anxiety squeeze the stomach, but as I could see I was not alone. Mrs. Chapman, although it controls which are admirable, appeared fragile nerves and often touched her husband's arm as if to take from him the necessary strength.

"Beth, tea for gentlemen."

"No, doctor, please do not waste any more time," he began Mrs. Chapman. "The telegram was awfully vague ..."

"It did not seem the case to entrust important information to the post," I said. Expected that Beth had left the room and closed the door. "Unfortunately, gentlemen, the help I can give is very limited. I have not heard from your cousin before the summer. "

The face of Mrs. Chapman is composed slowly nervous anxiety to curiosity slightly tinged with disappointment. "Tell me everything, please."

told them the story that I had agreed with Holmes. Around the beginning of May I had come across in man corresponding to the description during a round of visits: he was alone, without documentation, fever and clearly not in itself. I had given him hospitality in my house for some time, during which I tried to trace his relatives with the famous ad in the Times

, but as soon as the fever was down and my host was able to get back on their feet had not been able to restrain him. He had not even left my house after ten days, in the middle of the night like a thief. I thought that I would see again, so the gentlemen could imagine my surprise at receiving a letter from him less than a month later, in which informed me that he had found a job as a man of hard work on a farm at Norbury.

"My brother, a man of hard work," said Mrs. Chapman, covering his mouth. "Oh, excuse me, Doctor. But if you knew him understand my surprise. William has studied, has the manners of a gentleman and the bearing of a prime minister. Men's hard ... "

spread my arms. I could not imagine Holmes in the role of a worker, except in one of his disguises, and therefore fails to see why his sister. "I am sorry to upset her, Mrs. Chapman. The'm just telling you what I know. "

" Sure, sure, "he hastened to the lady. "Continue, please."

"I do not have much else to say, unfortunately. I've answered my time with a letter, but I came back some time later with a notice of 'recipient unavailable', and I have not heard from him again. "
Mrs. Chapman dropped his head on his chest, clasping hands . With trembling fingers she opened the bag, drawing a sheet of thick paper, in small format. She looked stricken for a while with air, then handed it to her husband and they got up to him.
"An impression of Will," he said, speaking for the first time. "Oh, they will be twenty years ago. You say, dear? Them twenty years ago? "

" Moreover, "murmured the woman, smiling bravely. "Twenty-five at least. I'm sorry not to have a better picture, doctor, this is all consumed. But my poor brother did not like being photographed. He had an aversion to this sort of thing. The only other picture which could be found throughout the house, grabbed him and pulled it out in a fit of rage a decade ago. He said that we do not recognize. "

The press was very worn, in fact. We stood out, with some difficulty, a teenage boy dressed in the uniform of any school. The face was a blur, but the body was slender and agile Holmes.

"It looks like the man I knew, yes," I admitted cautiously.

"I think I should tell you something about us, Doctor. She was kind enough ... My husband has a small business pledge just outside London. I have been for many years secretary and typist, before getting married. We are certainly not rich, but we have our means, but it recently, the disease of Will ... "He sighed painfully. "The specialists, as you know, have a price. We were ready to give our resources to fund every penny, but it was only after five years of consultations and treatments that a doctor told us honestly that there were no prospects of recovery. The only thing we could do, he said, was to find my poor brother, a quiet place for the crisis worse. Because maybe you have not had time to notice it, Dr. Watson, but my brother is subject to periodic crises, violent. When this happens it is really a distressing spectacle. Can remain in control of himself for months, once even almost a year, and then suddenly an insignificant detail, something bothering him for no reason, led him to destroy everything in its path. "

nodded gravely, feeling as you sink into an abyss more and more black and threatening. I tried to say something. "It is not unusual in such cases."

"But tell me, doctor," she continued, "when William ... I mean, when this man met her for the first time, how it is presented? Who said it? I know that may seem a strange question, but doctors have told us that there is a method in his madness. Shortly before fleeing the institution, had taken a new identity, if we can say, and if it were to coincide ... "

was the question that Holmes and I had considered more carefully. "Sometimes it was in itself, and admits he does not remember much," I said quietly. "But a couple of times said he was an explorer of northern European origin. A Sigerson. The reason I mention the strangeness of the name struck me right away. He also had a trace of an accent, Norwegian or Swedish, I do not know. "

" Did you hear? You hear that, Eddie? "Mrs. Chapman said, sounding excited. "I knew it, Doctor. I knew it had to be him! "

" match? "I asked, feel faint voice. Sigerson was an invention Holmes, moreover, was the identity that he had chosen for himself during his travels (real or imagined that they were) for Europe. Holmes had been

Sigerson. And if Mrs. Chapman said that his brother, one day, had assumed the identity ...

"Absolutely," confirmed the woman, her eyes shining.

"... It is a wonderful discovery," I managed to say. I cleared my throat. "Mrs. Chapman, Mr. Chapman, I wish with all my heart to find your relative. I am sure that ... "

" Doctor, to tell the truth ... ", his cheeks were painted by Mrs. Chapman of a delicate blush, "to tell us the truth, my husband and I were hoping to be able to ask the help of Mr. Holmes for this."

I tried with all my strength, and I think I succeeded fairly well, to keep friendly and neutral expression. "I fear that when it is not possible. Holmes is gone. "
" Party! "Repeated Mrs. Chapman, her voice hoarse and pained, full of disappointment.
"Yes, and unfortunately I can not tell when ..."

It was then that the drawing-room door opened, and Holmes appeared at the door with the more casual air of the world.

"Oh, you're busy, Watson, "he said with a glance at my guests. "I beg your pardon." He leaned against the frame, lifting the index in my direction. "If you can give me a minute when you're done, I have very important things to discuss with you."

"Certainly," I agreed, checking the lords of the corner of Chapman. "When you come back?"

"Just a moment ago."

"Sometimes, um, turn in your investigation?"

"Oh, yes," replied Mrs. Chapman openly now looking into his eyes. "A not entirely unexpected, but which I appreciate. Gentlemen, with permission. "

" William, "cried Mrs. Chapman, jumping up.

Holmes turned slightly, her fingers already on the handle.

"Do not you recognize me?" Insisted the woman. "William, I am your sister. And that's Eddie! Do not ... do not remember? "

Holmes's expression hardened, just for a moment, and then broke into a faint smile gently mixed. "My dear lady, trust me, I remember I had a sister," said a voice from which every trace of courtesy had been forcibly removed and poured with the dropper. "They will certainly remember a sister like her."

Mrs. Chapman marched in his direction, place your hands on the arms. "My dear, dear William," she murmured, her voice broken. "You do not know ... can not imagine how we felt about you!"

"Why did you lie?" Mr. Chapman said, standing up in turn. It took me a while to understand that he was addressing me. "And she would be a doctor? Coward! "

The situation seemed about to degenerate, but Holmes was quiet and self-possessed. He put a hand on that of Mrs. Chapman, beating a reassuring pat. "Certainly she confuses me with someone else, my dear lady." He smiled briefly, a horrible smile, predation, which could not in any way to explain. All of Holmes seemed to me incomprehensible at the time, from the fact that he had decided to appear after vehemently stressed the need to avoid it. "Wonder how many times I happened to be mistaken for someone else. A mistake is quite understandable. If I were you, I would accept the possibility. "

Kindly but firmly led her to the couch and made her sit, separated from their arms. Mr. Chapman also sat down slowly, without losing the spirited and hostile. Calmly regal, Holmes sat in his chair.

"Gentlemen you mind if I smoke? No? Thank you. You have a match, Watson ...? I think I lost somewhere on my train. "

Of course all that time was in the adjoining room, and I had no doubt that he had heard every word. I took the opportunity to exchange a quick glance with him on his cigarette. In spite of a loving, Holmes's eyes were steel. He put his hand on my guide for the cigarette, exhale, and let the first puff of smoke.

"Dr. Watson," said Mrs. Chapman, with barely controlled anger. "I ask for an explanation. What does this clown? He told me he had no news of my brother, and now I discover that her famous friend 'Sherlock Holmes' is none other than him! He wants to explain? "

I was short of words, and so much more than explanations. Holmes crossed his legs, bringing the cigarette to his lips idly.

"My dear lady," he said slowly, lovely. "I find it annoying enough that she persists in her unpleasant misunderstanding after having been advised of the error. But attacking the doctor in a way is far too rude. I have more than half a mind to put her and her kind to the door. "

shadow of doubt passed into the faces of Mr. Chapman, but it lasted only a moment. Mrs. Chapman seemed to gather energies and then I asked, sounding claimed: "She wants to answer, Doctor?".

looked Holmes. Did not give me any indication.

"I'm afraid I can not," I admitted honestly.

"denies that this is the same ad?

Holmes exhaled loudly, with a sigh, but said nothing.

"No."

"Then you all this time has kept my brother, he indulged in his madness and made it ... My God, a freak," said Mrs. Chapman, the vibrant voice indignation. "Not ashamed? Not even a modicum of dignity? He took advantage of my brother William ... ... for, what made you this man? "

" A number of things, "Holmes said, absently rubbing the corner of his mouth with his thumbnail. "Last but not least, give me a home and a bed and a study to return to practice my profession. It is difficult to get back in business after a long period abroad. "

" Abroad? "Repeated the woman. "William, you never set foot outside England."

"But she did, is not it?" Said Holmes, sharply. He had not moved, but suddenly he had completely abandoned that air lazy and bored that did not belong.

"I ... What does this mean?"

"It means, my dear lady, that she is my sister more than it is Dr. Watson."

"William!" She knelt beside his chair, taking him his hand in hers. "William, my darling, you're terribly confused. The doctor told us that it was possible, remember? We talked for a long time when you felt better at Christmas. We had warned that such a thing could happen again. What is this madness believe Sherlock Holmes, eh? Not see that it is absurd? I wonder what made you believe this man ... "

" Absurd? "Holmes said again, pulling with his hand from his decision. He crushed his cigarette in the ashtray. "Grotesque, rather. The situation is extremely ludicrous. I dare say that tends to farce, a bad comedy of errors written by a mediocre writer. I'm not Sherlock Holmes, that is clear, she is my sister because I have no sisters, and neither she nor her husband is called Chapman. The only part of himself is Dr. John Watson, as he also sometimes has other names. "

The woman blanched. "W-William? What do you mean? "

" Isa and Margaret Harding, of Winchester. Wanted for robbery, fraud, kidnapping, circumvention of an incapable, and not the least of a sordid little affair that prostitution might be whether or not an accusation of murder. "He drew from his pocket a bundle of papers held together by a paper clip and threw it on the floor in front of him. There were newspaper clippings. "I know we have the same hobby, madame. I, too, you see, are a lover of old newspapers. They are used to fill my store. I went back to work for a short time and unfortunately it is still quite baked, but luckily I can count on the help of an inspector or two. "

Behind woman, the man who had called Harding Holmes reached into his jacket and pulled out a small revolver from his pocket, opening against my friend.

"Holmes!" I called, getting up in my turn, but Harding pointed his weapon at me.

"Good, doctor," said the criminal. Margaret Harding got up quickly, bringing with her husband. He was livid with rage, his lips contracted into a grimace. You are not the slightest resemblance to the more elegant and understated mouth of my friend, at that time slightly stretched in a sardonic smile.

"She is the mind, this is clear," said the woman. "Sincerely, Madam, I admire. If I had not started working months ago to you, maybe you would have fooled me. Maybe. Of course, the letter would require some minor attention, as well, is it? "

" You're just a poor fool, "hissed Margaret Harding.

"Yes," Holmes admitted, with absolute calm. "I know." He reached under the lapels of his jacket, but followed the shot gun menacing dog Harding. Holmes looked at him with a slight sigh of impatience and ended in peace gesture, pulling out his cigarette.

"So," he said, carefully choosing, "Where were we? Ah yes, the letter. "He closed the container with a metal snap, still talking about the cigarette. He raised just look, back down immediately afterwards. "It can lower the gun, Harding. The Doctor is helpless and I'm not going to attack me. I do not know how to wash my hands afterwards. "

" Breed ... "

" The letter, then. I have here with me. "He put back his hand under his jacket, drawing from a folded sheet. "An admirable example of epistolary prose, give him action. And yet I always recommend to wash their hands when handling certain trinkets. "He pointed the gun. "It threatens to leave incriminating stains."

lifted the sheet, indicating a low point. You could see, crystal clear, a small halo askew, like a fingerprint, which makes the paper translucent.

"Cooking Oil? Furniture polish? Ah, but the grease to polish the weapons have this peculiar smell. On the other hand, is not a crime to keep weapons at home. Most of us do. Do not our women, though. When I see a letter written by a woman so clean-cut, so fine on paper, with writing so elegant, grease-stained arms ... honestly, I can not help but think that there is something strange. On the envelope I would not surprised - the envelopes pass from hand to hand, God only knows how many times before reaching its destination. But the letter?

"It was just a suspicion, but it was worth a check. In all honesty, I think I would have done anyway, but it's always good to have an incentive. So I took the address of the sender and I have booked a visit. The lady - if I pass the exaggeration - may remember a postman with a bad cough that has asked for a glass of water. "

" You! "Growled the woman. "It was you! You just have not wanted to remove the bad habit of crawling behind, eh? "

Holmes looked at her coldly. "I have excellent memory for useful knowledge, and all the rest are unaffected. So when I saw it, I could not quite remember it's already met her, because her face and that of her husband are less than nothing to me. But on the other hand I perfectly remembered having seen her photograph in the newspaper. Oh, it's changed a lot, of course, a different hairstyle, a different color, and makeup is excellent. Almost unrecognizable. But that nose is unmistakable. It was in my store, under the H Harding. "

I was speechless. Holmes's hand, squeezed in a fist over the edge of the armrest, trembling slightly.

"So I did some investigation in neighborhood. It was not too hard to find girls. Finding that it lacked one was even easier. That's the problem with respectable neighborhoods, tend to be much more talkative than those who have something to hide.

"And the rest came by itself. I smelled acidic chemicals in the house - your area, Harding, is not it? Certainly not in the hands of an agent to pledge them. Ex tanner, perhaps? A solid foundation of chemistry useful to the criminal always returns to a good standard. And of course the story of disguise is not something I could have learned alone. Streak behind is not a natural attitude. Someone has to resent
taught
.

Holmes sat up in his chair. Her voice completely gave up the light tone and bored that he had used until then.

"Stop," growled Harding, adjusting your aim.

"Oh, do not shoot me."

"Oh yeah? And why not? "
" You have two good reasons not to. The first is that, despite all the evidence is against you, you have not killed anyone. The second is that this unit is at the door with three or four agents strong, and just waiting for a signal to storm. "
Harding and his wife exchanged glances, then I saw the man's eyes Notes on the window. Holmes also noticed.

"But please, accertatene yourself," he said, pointing behind him.

"If you put into it well you're finished," said Margaret Harding, while her husband went to the window to glance out and threw a terrible curse. "Are you finished well," she repeated, her voice tense. "It's over the free ride! This beautiful life you've had with this poor fool, puff!, You can the dream. You put in and we do everything we say to the cops of the things you did with us. "

"

For you, "Holmes corrected. "Oh, I suppose you have made all sorts of things, not having to go without a name, a purpose, knowing that no one else would give me the only thing I need: to solve problems. Yes, I can imagine the things I did. A gentle soul from long memory in Winchester gave me the exact measurement. But luckily I do not need, because they were made by another person, I do not know and with whom I have nothing to do. We can go together to tell the inspector, your version and mine, and we see those who believe. "

" You're crazy, "said Margaret Harding. "You're sick. People like you should lock them all and throw away the key! "

"Curious," said Holmes, quietly. "I said the same thing to you."

"You are an ingrate. All that we know you taught us! Without us you'd be out on the street! "

" Yes, "said Holmes. "And that is why you see, that will make you a favor, despite the idea disgusts me. We will fulfill the charge of murder. Believe me, no one else will go to the trouble. "He shrugged. "If you know what is best for you, get out the door and follow the inspector without much fuss. But if you prefer you can always groped flight. In this case we hope good luck sincerely. There are agents from here to Holland Street. "
rested his elbow on the arm and hand in his face, as if the energies were finally abandoned. Harding crossed the room to go near his wife. They did not speak, only exchanged a long look. Harding then lowered his gun and slowly put it back inside his jacket.
closed above the door behind him, quietly.

Holmes had not moved from his position. When I touched his shoulder, stood perfectly still as a statue.

"Do not touch me," he whispered.

"Why should not I?" I replied, with all the kindness possible. I shook his hand around the wrist, pulling it gently from her face.

"Because I believe that in a moment transmit breakfast," murmured Holmes, livid.

There was a slight commotion outside the parlor, we heard the voice of Inspector Brooks declared in Harding's arrest. I deduced that Holmes was giving precise directions to Beth, and I took a mental reminder to increase the salary. What the poor girl was forced to endure a few months in that part ...

"The 'just a word and I'll stop too," Holmes whispered, staring somewhere around my shoulder, but never met my eyes.

"Do not be ridiculous," I replied.

"I could understand if not longer tolerate. I swear I'd understand. My God, I can not understand anything else. "

" Then I'm afraid you'll have to get used to extreme stupidity in this. "

" Thou shalt not ... "She looked up suddenly, with an anger that instant died within a second, like a flame without fuel. "You do not know what it means."

"No," I admitted. "But you could tell me."

"I do not think I can be."

"You, incapable of anything?" I kissed his knuckles. "Forgive me if you do not believe so."

At that time we heard footsteps approaching the door and jump shooting in both feet. Holmes had a sickly complexion was pale and frightened to do seemed about to collapse at any moment. Inspector Brooks seemed to notice it right away, and for a moment I feared that he would comment, but he refrained him and I was immensely grateful.

"Well, Mr. Holmes," he said practical. "They are the Harding, no doubt."

"Yes, Inspector, and the sky is blue. It has something to tell me that it is not entirely clear, or should we resign ourselves to continuing this pleasant exchange of obviousness? "

replication, although his usual shade of sarcasm, and cutting off a lot harder than was necessary.

"Why, Holmes," I said placing a hand on his shoulder. I felt him relax, albeit marginally.

"I expect that arises in the police station tomorrow," Brooks said, passing the hat from one hand to another. "To give a complete testimony of what he knows."

"It will be done," Holmes assured. "Anything else?"

"I expect that also tell us why

Harding's were in his house."

"A extraordinary coincidence, "he said. He exhibited an intolerable smile, the smile of a benevolent creator deity as stupid insects you have created. "I do not believe it, Inspector. They believed that a relative had escaped from a mental hospital months ago. "

" Who knows why, "muttered Brooks," I find it less than many other amazing things. "

" This is because, in spite of the category, is a man with the greatest gift possible, that of the imagination. I will not hold it over, Inspector. "

shown the door, however, Brooks straightened his shoulders with a remnant of dignity. "Tomorrow," he repeated. "At ten. This is not a story in the Strand, Mr. Holmes. I want a witness
complete, or as sure God in the slam with his two friends. "
Holmes shut the door behind him, always with that same, ugly smile on the lips, then leaned against it with all its weight, exhaling a long sigh exhausted.

"God help me, it's a nightmare," she murmured, her eyes closed.

"Do you really want them to acquit of murder?"

He opened his eyes. "It's untrue."
"Yes, but it is not the point. "
" What is it? Disgust me. I think the world would be a better place without them. But there are two killers, and if I can prove it I will. "

I took her face in her hands, just touching it. Holmes started to instinctively retreat, but stopped in mid-gesture.

"What do you remember?"

"None. This is the terrible part. Whatever, Watson. No matter what, and I'll never know. "

" You're not a murderess. "

" No? I know I could kill. And anyway, is not the only indignity that I could have done. "

" Do not you're a criminal. "

" Oh, yes, I remember saying that. I remember having believed. "

" You're not a criminal, "I repeated, slowly. "I've been at war, Holmes. I saw how he becomes a man after the army pulled out of the criminal in him. I saw that look. You are a better judge, no doubt, but this time only grant me to tell you that in you there is no such thing. "I looked at it honestly, wanting desperately to believe me. "You would not be here otherwise," I said firmly. "You have my word, Holmes, who would not be here."

"Maybe I'll be there tomorrow."

"This," I said, "will only happen if we'll be together somewhere else."

Holmes leaned his head against the door with a thud and closed her eyes dry. First let alone kiss, her lips tightly against mine, but then I felt his hand crawl through my hair and his mouth to answer.

"What if tomorrow forget everything?" She murmured, her fingers full of my hair and a glimmer of the morning sun in your eyes that faded irises in a silver blind.

"I'll be here to remind you."

"And if you believe it to be someone else? An explorer? An Italian painter? "

"Oh, great. I've never been in Italy, "I replied. "And in ten or fifteen years I'll try to convince you to believe a senior and we will buy a house in Sussex or anywhere else in the country, where you can believe what you want for the after ten or twenty of them."

"What prefer? Even something extremely ridiculous? "

" Absolutely. Do your worst. "

" A veteran in retirement? "

" That I find ridiculous? Thank you. "

" On my person, of course. A pervert who has transferred his unmentionable vices in the countryside? "

"Oh, much better. We are almost farcical. "

" A beekeeper with a bad temper and a knighthood in his desk drawer. "

" Perfect. Perfect. "

At the end we laughed, and even though it was a slightly hysterical laugh neither tried to stop it. The case investigator forgetful was closed, and therefore gives us a lunch Mancini, gallantly insisting both to offer (I won myself, but honestly only because Holmes was exhausted). And that evening we had dinner early and we retired early, moving around each other in circles ever closer, touch and urtandoci in every way more awkward, until I asked Holmes if you prefer to sleep alone, and I told him that I preferred not to sleep at all.

There were no other questions.




+



The interrogation went for long. Since Holmes was trying to exonerate the Harding from a double murder charge, and because he had given to Scotland Yard in two dangerous wanted hunted for years, he was allowed a number of private talks. Holmes bartered his services as an investigator with information about his past, but I get a lot. Whether they would not cooperate, whether they really knew little or nothing, knew only inform the Harding the short period he had spent with them.

Apparently, Holmes had been the planner of the group. When they think of a robbery or anything criminal, Holmes had to deal with the details. He knew the city of London, all the streets and alleys as the palm of his hand, had a good knowledge of the routine of Scotland Yard, he knew the paths of preferential CIT and so on. He never went home, and everything he did when he was left to himself he was reading newspapers. Tons of newspapers. It was his only vice. He spoke very little, and the girls said that gave them the shivers. One of them, who had found beautiful, was rejected in a manner so sudden and violent that we no longer had rejected. As for the scars of the needle, they had never seen him take a drop of any substance. They called him William

not because it was his name, but because they had to even call it in some way, and Holmes had not raised objections. When they had found a year earlier, had no memory, wearing modest clothes and maybe a shilling in his pocket. Others did not.

Holmes returned exhausted from each of those talks, and if I had not lobbied for news is certain that she would never taken the initiative to speak. His mood went worse day by day, and night found him slumped in a chair, sleeve turned over to the arm, seriously intent on fixing the scars point in the crook of his elbow.
I did not want to give the impression that he was spying, because it was so, and certainly I had already heard from the corridor ol'avrebbe done now if I come back. So I continued on my way and went to sit in an armchair. Holmes pulled my sleeve down slowly and continued to smoke thoughtfully.

"I met with Richard Woodley, this morning," I announced.

"Oh, really," he replied, absently.

"He returned to London these days and thinks that will remain at least until Christmas. Carstairs does not offer great attractions, apparently. "

" I have already suggested a drink at a club or another? To Mulberry Street, for example? It is well known. "

" Oh, no, "I replied, chuckling. "The boy knows that I'm not interested. Also, I'm too old. "

" My God, what nonsense, "said Holmes, in a tone of endearment.

"It is nonsense. I spent forty. I'm not too old for adventure escapades and relationships of so much per pound. I need certainty. I need to know that the same face will always be waiting for me when I get home. "

" It sounds like a nightmare, "he said. "How can you tolerate?"

"Married life has its merits. Wait, let me remember why I told you. Ah, yes. Woodley asked me if I thought I would go back to writing. "

" I asked if you thought

to go back to writing? "

" He asked me

to go back to writing. "

" And you, intoxicated by young admirer of your devotion and the not insignificant appeal of his beautiful little face, so you swore? "

" Nothing like that. No, I have no plans for now and I told him. But Woodley felt the need to let me know that Lady Constance was in favor of a little record of the case involving his son. He argues that would feel ... vindicated, in a certain way. "
" The trial of Colonel Moran is not finished yet, and anyway I do not esporrei talking about for some years. "
" That's what I thought, "I agreed. "In a few years. I did not hurry, but ... I also have other notes, for the truth. The case that lawyer of Blackheath and the manufacturer of Norwood, for example. "
" I would call the Blackheath
's lawyer, I hope. "

" I thought
The Norwood Builder
. "

Holmes put his hand to his face, laughing silently. When pulled back, however, was the expression of new thoughts.

"What do you say to Sherlock Holmes? As has emerged from that terrible abyss in Reichenbach? "
" I will say that there never was. It's the truth, after all. And then I will say that he spent three years in some ridiculous place, like Tibet, or - what was it? Marseille? - No, Montpellier, doing research on something equally unlikely, so those who wish may refuse to believe that is the same as Sherlock Holmes and an inch closer to the truth. "
smiled, and Holmes smiled with me more for not feeling sorry for unadulterated fun. I put a hand on his. It was hot.
"I thought ..." he murmured.
"Oh, I hope so."

She gave me a dirty look. "I do not remember ever having tried most abject unhappiness and complete than I do at this time, except for those horrible days when the world came off its tracks."

"My dear ..."

"Yet they are perfectly master of myself, and I no desire to stun me with cocaine or morphine, as I have not had the time. And then, "he raised his left arm, with a nervous gesture," Look at this, and I wonder what I should be miserable in those years. I can not imagine doing something so stupid for the mere pleasure of feeling. "

" But you're not more, "I said, gently.

"No," he admitted. "After this reflection, everything appeared to me strangely scaled." Hint of a smile. "I know you were worried tremendously in recent days."

"It's not your fault."

"I know. But still know that it is past. Melancholy is inertia and inaction not apply to me. "

" I'm happy to hear that. "

" And I have work to do. "He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "The next woman who comes to ordering a detailed report on the infidelity of her husband will put it on the door, I swear."

"You could accept only cases that interest you," I suggested. "You must not keep us both, and I personally do not like expensive gifts."

"What nonsense," he said. "You do not send home patients with chronic uninteresting. I would be a poor professional do not you think? "

I stopped looking at him with curiosity. I did not think I would have never heard him say one thing less to Holmes, and for a moment there I was almost afraid. But then he lifted a corner of his mouth and added in a veiled gently: "Go to bed, Watson. Keeps me from thinking. "

I retired laughing to myself, deriving a perverse satisfaction from the fact that he looked at me with concern, not even imagine the reasons for my happiness.

"A pipe," contrattai the door.

"Three."

"Two. There are thirty pages of my William James. I'll wait. "




+



Thus ends an incredible story of the detective with no memory, not written for the pleasure of the audience but to my memory private to the major points of interest - Holmes would say, the puzzles, I tell you, the exceptional nature of history itself - should not be completely lost when my memory is dim and rust. Even for these restricted pages in the dark of my discreet drawer, however, I had the courage to use the real names of the persons involved, except, of course, for myself. Caution is essential, especially when it has to do with the secrets of others.

On this silent. The task of the prose is carry on the past, and yet the same distance. The prose is an inert thing, and memories, and photography, while the present is alive and knocking at our door at any moment, impossible to reduce it to its suggestions impression while still pervade us. No, I'll stop here, however: the steps of Holmes in September of 1894 slowly ascend the stairs to my dim gas lamp that shines against the page, slight bump to the closed book, which coincides with the creaking covered handle. I will stop here, the wonderful and terrible suffering in the world to be born a second time, and there will be other words.

Used Amish Clothes For Sale

[Sherlock Holmes] My Infinite Variety (A Case of Identity) 4 / 5


Title:
My Infinite Variety (A Case of Identity)

Fandom:
Sherlock Holmes

Pairing:
Holmes / Watson

Rating: R
Word Count: 41,410
(W) Part :
4 / 5 Warning:
Slash, what if, something not now I remember Notes: What if
EMPT up. Written by:


bigbangitalia
, second edition. [info] 1 Woodley was a member, and introduced me as his friend, using the fake name we agreed on. I found it unlikely that Moran would be suspicious on the sole basis of my name, but the fame of Sherlock Holmes had quickly made the rounds of the city and we had all agreed that there was no reason to risk it. The room was moderately crowded, and the arrival of Woodley sparked a small commotion. The news of his attack was known to all, of course, and everyone wanted to know something more. While a large crowd of gentlemen surrounding Woodley, and indirectly me, I saw Moran in the process of getting up from a table in the back of the room. I had never met personally, but Holmes had described me. He was impressive in every way more wrong. Apparently he was a gentleman of the most distinguished, but his face betrayed a lot of evil that resides within. It was a tremendously virile face and at the same time left. With a philosopher's forehead and the mouth of a lecherous, he must have started its life with the equally huge opportunity to do good or evil. But it was not possible to watch those cruel blue eyes, his eyelids heavy and cynical, or that aggressive and ferocious nose, or forehead and ominous signs, but read the clearer signals of danger, deliberately made by Mother Nature. This man got terrible So from his chair and raised his eyes ice on my companion. At that moment the fate would have it, Woodley also divert the eye from a gentleman he was talking about and meet those of Moran. The effect was electric. Moran's eyes grew dark, his cheeks were full of shadows. Woodley stared with an expression in which hatred and amazement were equally blended.

The young man had been hitherto calm and balance, but when he took the match to a cigarette I saw that his hands were shaking, and it did not go unnoticed. I beat him a pat on the shoulder. "It's nothing," I said aloud. "A small side effect of the wound. It has been touched a nerve, " improvvisai, e se qualcuno aveva le nozioni mediche utili a correggermi, dovette pensare che volevo risparmiare a Woodley la vergogna di far sapere a tutti che era ancora profondamente scosso.
When Moran came up, the gentlemen were almost all returned to their tables. Woodley shook hands with a desperate decision. I, for myself, I was carefully weighed and kept at the margins in check. Moran was like a predator who is aware of all possible enemies in its radius of action even when it focuses on only one of them. "Richard," he said with a heavy relief in his voice, like a big sigh. "But I doing? I almost took a hit this morning when I open the newspaper. "The freedom to put his hand on his arm, with a familiarity that seemed excessive, but not unjustified if the two had really gone. "I'm sure," said Woodley, smiled pulled. "But it's not so easy to kill me, Colonel." was obviously terribly obvious. Woodley's teeth were so tight that he seemed to hear them creak. Discreetly, I rested a hand on the wrist, and pressed to tell you to relax.
"Colonel," said Woodley, "may I present Dr. Roxborough? It is a family friend. He's been given the thankless task of me to nurse, just in case some fool had groped back into my bedroom and burn your brains out. "

" Oh, come on, Woodley, "I replied, with all the good humor that managed to pull out," things do not are not so. "The leaned his hand on his shoulder. "The boy is still weak," I said to Moran, as if speaking in confidence. "His parents felt safer knowing that a doctor was with him." "She was military," said Moran, just looking. It was not a question.

"Afghanistan. How did you know? "

" Look. You can stop being a doctor, or painter, or prime minister. Soldier, it is life. "

Risi. "He's absolutely right."

"Some progress in the investigation," asked Moran. "Any suspects?"

"One, yes," said Woodley, a voice that dripped venom. "It is certain now. There is every evidence. I was assured that we will have a hanging by the end of summer. "

This was not, technically, a lie. I had heard myself Holmes make an estimate of its kind in front of the boy.

Moran's lips looked like getting back into the mouth. "What wonderful news, "he said slowly, savoring as a bad food.

"So," I said, "since it has so much insisted on coming to play, Woodley, why not start? Colonel? "

We started with a game of whist - Moran was paired with a Mr. Vaughan - and played almost non-stop until after eleven. I am a fair player, and all in all I think I could enjoy the evening, maybe even fun, it was not for the overwhelming presence of Moran at the table. Woodley if he drew in admirably, but the poor boy was terrified. It did not seem completely exclude the possibility that Moran drew the revolver from his pocket and shoots him there on the spot, in front of all the Cavendish.

At half past eleven we left the club. A carriage waited at the front door, and I had expected that Holmes are already inside, but there was no trace of him. What alarmed me slightly, though I held him for me. Woodley, however, stirred uneasily beside me.

"He said that we would reach out of the club, is not it?" He said. "He also heard her, Doctor?"

"Yes," I admitted. "But do not worry. Holmes knows what he does. "

" I always call it? "Asked Woodley, leaving aside the apprehension of a moment. "When you're alone? I mean, I understand that in public, the image. But ... in private? "

for a moment I wondered what he was talking about, first to remember that 'Sherlock Holmes' was a pseudonym for all. "Oh, no. Certainly not. "

" How ...? "

" I'm afraid not poterglielo say. Excuse me. "

" Oh, no, no. She Excuse me. I did not want to be intrusive. "He rubbed a hand with the other, nervous. "I wanted to meet you at another time, sir. Forgive me if I told you before, but I am a great admirer of his stories. The league

red hair, I think my absolute favorite. "

smiled. "It's mine too."

"Really? You know, I actually suspected it already. There were a few phrases, expressions ... It was Ronnie introduced me to his stories, and he was quite certain. I was not so convinced, but when I saw you together I thought, 'Well, no doubt, is true. Holmes and Watson. It was obvious, to think '. I am very happy to have met you, doctor, known for having both. You understand what I mean? "

My smile was petrified. "No, I'm afraid not."

"No, no," he hastened to add Woodley, misunderstanding. "Do not worry. I am sure that it is not obvious to anyone else. For anyone who might give you trouble. "

" Mr. Woodley, I am sure you have the best intentions, but I assure you that you are wrong. "

" Okay, "he said, slightly disappointed. "Excuse me. But it has nothing to fear from me. I said some things, she and Mr. Holmes does not know ... things that no one else. Ronnie and me. I can believe, has nothing to fear. "

" Mr. Woodley ... "

" It's just that before, at home, I saw how it looked. And I thought ... No, really forgive me. I'll shut up. "He covered his mouth with one hand leaning on the side of the carriage.

"I am saddened by the death of his companion," I said slowly, in little more than a whisper. "I can understand. My wife died three years ago. And believe me, not the judge. Each of us is as God made it. But I tell you you're wrong about me and Holmes. "

Woodley looked at me, surprise in his eyes glistening wet. "But he loves her, of course," he said. I shook my head, confused. "I do not know."

said no more. I gates of the villa of Adair already stood out in the bottom of the avenue, and was a thing of the moment and dismount from the carriage.

When I raised my arm to give the cabbie his salary, these - instead of taking the money - I grabbed his wrist with his free hand and lifted his hat from his eyes. It was Sherlock Holmes.




+



I seemed to find myself in one of my stories when Woodley left home, I found myself shoulder to shoulder with Holmes on the streets at night in London, the revolver in his pocket and the thrill of adventure in the heart. Holmes was cold and silent grave. When the glitter of the lamps shone on her features austere, I could see that his brows were contracted in meditation and thin lips compressed into a line.

I had no idea where we were going, but it did not matter. Holmes watched as she looked with extreme caution on the right and left, and made sure every angle with the utmost care not being followed. His knowledge of the streets of London was extraordinary, and on this occasion he passed rapidly and with a firm step through a network of barns and stables, which until that moment I had ignored its existence. It is also apparent in a narrow street bordered by grim-looking old houses, where Holmes turned down a very narrow lane, crossed a wooden railing that led into a deserted courtyard, and then opened with a key the back door of a house. We went together, and he closed it behind us.

The place was completely dark, but it became clear that it was an abandoned house. Our steps on the bare boards creaked and rattled, and my outstretched hand touched a wall from which the tapestries hung in thick curls. The cold, thin fingers Holmes closed around my wrist and led me down a long corridor, until recent effort to muddy the blade of light over a door. Here Holmes turned suddenly to the right, and we found ourselves in a large square room, empty, with deep shadows in the corners, but faintly lit in the middle from street lights downstairs. There were no lights nearby, and the window was covered with thick dust, so that we could only distinguish their figures.

My companion put his hand on my shoulder and his lips to your ear. The warmth of his breath, completely unexpected, almost made me wince, but I did not move.

"He knows where we are?" She whispered.

"Park Lane," I said, sticking his chin just to look out the window mat - and to seek salvation from its proximity to a minimum.

"Exactly. We are in front of the villa of Adair. "

" Why are we here? "

“Perché permette una visuale eccellente. Posso chiederle, mio caro, di avvicinarsi un poco alla finestra, stando attentissimo a non farsi vedere, e dare un’occhiata alla prima finestra al secondo piano? È l’unica illuminata.”
Feci un passo avanti e guardai nella direzione indicata. Le tende erano tirate, e una forte luce brillava nella stanza. L’ombra di un uomo seduto in poltrona era proiettata in una rigida sagoma scura sullo schermo luminoso della finestra. Non era possibile confondere la posa della testa, la larghezza delle spalle, la regolarità mascolina dei lineamenti. Era Richard Woodley, o – mi sovvenne – piuttosto la sua fedele riproduzione.

In that, I saw the shadow move. "Holmes," I murmured in sudden anxiety. "It's Woodley? Why is the window, when she said ...? "

" It's Woodley. "

" But he moved. "

" Of course it has moved, "said Holmes, with some impatience. "The comic-opera look like an idiot? I could put a dummy there and expect that one of the most intelligent men in Europe there helmets? Westwood has a mandate to turn the bust every fifteen minutes. "

My body seemed to remember at that moment that I was immersed in a pool of darkness, without the contact of another human being, and told me her discomfort with a shudder. Instinctively, her hand back view to see that Holmes was still close to me. I met her stomach, and he came up, leaning on the arm read five fingers.

The darkness seemed to require a gentle voice whispered confessions. I sighed. Holmes was very close. I felt her hair grazed his temple, heavy and compact, fragrant grease.

"Young Woodley seems to believe that our relations are like those he had with his friend," I muttered.

Holmes stood perfectly still.

"Do you think that everything is already in my stories."

"And there?"

"I do not know. If there is, I do not remember bringing this set. I could have done it and not know? "

" I'm not an expert in literature. "

" But I believe you? "

" Why so important? They are just stories. "

" Yes. Yes, they were once. But now everything is changed. And if she is all that is Sherlock Holmes, if he has his intelligence and his knowledge and the habits and vices, I wonder ... "

" Do not do it. "

" I wonder, can you say? "

Holmes was silent. In complete silence, I heard him swallow with amazing clarity.

"If you ask me," she whispered, "there is nothing that I would tell you."

I turned. The light lit up the dirt road barely forehead and cheekbones, leaving the rest in the shade, including those formidable eyes that had so impressed me at our first meeting, and that still did not cease to have a profound effect on me. Inside the white of the cornea, barely discernible, I could imagine them as two furnaces silent invisible.

His fingers touched my throat. As the light came from my shoulders, my face must have seemed completely in the shade. I felt the thumb track, with extreme delicacy, the relief of my cheekbone.

For what it was, what Sherlock Holmes was, for the incredible energy of his manner and authority of his figure, the kiss could have come from another person. They could share in the dark, Holmes and another, and I do not think I would have found more absurd than merely touch of his lips, the gentle caress desperately. I felt trapped in the familiar presence of Holmes, pungent in the flavoring of its tobacco and sweet in one of its grease, and maybe it was the instincts of a soldier, perhaps the agony of that kiss that remained stubbornly the edge of any feeling, but I raised a hand and the sinking of arrogance in his hair, forcing him closer. Suddenly Holmes was everywhere I could feel in my mouth and my nose against my knees, around my body. He let out a faint sound on my lips, less than a whimper, not a sigh, less than a breath, it filled me with tenderness, and for a long time refused to let him go.

When we parted, it was slow. Neither wanted to talk, but I felt that I should have said something - something to give a dimension of the incident, to make even minimally understandable. I felt that reality was slipping, and I had to grab it before it was too late. But I

Holmes put his finger on the mouth in a reverent caress, the caress and suddenly became a vice. I felt the whole hand cover my mouth into a wall of steel. The other arm of Holmes ran around behind me, and he pulled me in the darkest of the room, easily, since the surprise had annulled the instinct to react.

Finally I realized what his senses more acute had already read. A slight noise reached my ears and stealth, not on the side of Park Lane, but from the back of the house where we hid. A door opened and closed. A moment later, footsteps proceeded slowly along the corridor - steps that would want to be silent, but echoed harshly to the empty house. Holmes crouched back against the wall and I did the same, holding his hand around the handle of my revolver.

strive to see through the darkness, I saw the vague outline of a man, a little 'darker darkness of the open door. Was less than three yards from us, and I was prepared to repel his assault, when I realized I had no idea of our presence. We passed by, went to the window and opened it a few inches without a sound. He seemed beside himself with excitement, and even in the dark had no difficulty in recognizing the hooked nose, the grizzled beard, the features marked by fierce and dark lines deep. He was carrying what looked like a stick, but when I put her on the floor, the object emitted a metallic clang. Then he took out a massive object from his coat pocket and performed an operation which resulted in a snap net and noisy, like a bolt which engages in its place. He pulled up and saw that clutched in his hand like a gun from the bottom curiously deformed. He opened the gun, gave it something, and he closed with a click. Then, returning to his knees, put the tip of the cane on the window sill open and closed finger around the trigger.

There was a strange hissing sound, and distant, a crystal tinkling of broken glass. At that moment, Holmes sprang like a tiger at the back of the shooter, and pushed him face down on the floor. The other was standing in a moment, and with violent force grabbed him by the throat, but I hit him on the head with the butt of the revolver, and the man fell on the floor. I rushed over him, and while I kept my buddy blew a whistle on a high note that I had never seen carrying. There was a noise of hurried steps on the floor, and two uniformed policemen and a detective in plain clothes entered the room.

"Brooks?" Said Holmes, catch my breath.

"Okay. All right, sir, can leave it, we'll do, "the two policemen were telling me, but it took me a while to let go of my muscles. The whole scene was something unreal, and when Holmes pulled the curtains to avoid the gaze of onlookers who were flocking under the window, the effect was even worse.

"Who the hell are you?" Gasped our prisoner, struggling like a wild beast in a cage, but the two officers held him tight. "Who the hell are you? How dare you? "

" Sincerely, Colonel, "said Holmes coldly," I was not sure that a device so simple was enough against the best hunter of the Empire. I fear that the city life has watered down his instincts. Or maybe were the papers? "

" You! "Growled Moran, recognition. "You're the bastard who accompanied the whore of Woodley! I will take care of ruin,

doctor, I will take care of both ruin! "

Against all reason, because Moran was beside himself with an awesome spectacle to behold, I felt my lips stretch into a smile.

"And I will take care not to miss the appointment," I said.

Meanwhile, Holmes had picked up the rifle from the floor and he was studying the mechanism. "A weapon wonderful, unique," he said. "Van Herder, is not it? I never had the opportunity to see one up close. And the bullets ... "He opened the barrel, dropping the unused bullet in his palm. It was a very ordinary semiblindato small arms. "Pay attention to her man, inspector, because it is the same that you have tried unsuccessfully for months, the murderess of Ronald Adair. With this weapon and the testimony of Mr. Woodley will not be too difficult to prove. "

In less than no time we were alone in the empty house, just as Moran if he had never disturbed the quiet spooky. When even The last step was gone down the hall, Holmes gave a deep sigh and slumped against the wall, putting a hand to the face.

"Holmes?" I cried, kneeling in front of him. "Holmes is injured?"

"I was a fool," he murmured, his voice muffled by the palm that covered his mouth. "A fool. I never should have brought with me. My God, for a moment I thought I would have broken his neck. And you'd be next. I thought it would hit the road, what an idiot, all stationed in Scotland Yard and we over here dead. What an idiot! "He took a tremendous fist against the wall behind him, which reverberated darkly.

"Holmes," I muttered, hurrying to take his hand to prevent repeat the gesture. "We're not dead."

"For a little, and in any case not because of me."

smiled weakly. "I find it difficult to believe, but are a good shooter. I do not think we would kill him. "

Holmes looked at me upset. She runs her fingers through his hair with rage, and as soon as he withdrew to grease the torn tufts fell over his eyes, returning ten years. I shook his hand in mine, stroking the side scraped from the wall, and Holmes seemed dumbfounded for a moment. Then he pulled me into a desperate embrace, suffocating. "I'm not going anywhere," I muttered, and "We did it," and "You did it," and "Let's go home." "Let's go home," I said, brushing the ear with his lips, and in all honesty I meant something else, but between the weariness, the terror I had felt it in the hands of Moran in the throat, and relief that I ran in the veins in shock intoxicants, I could not bring myself to utter the words.

"Let's go home," I repeated.




+



But first we had to visit the Adair and reassure them that everything had gone according to plan - especially reassuring Lady Constance and her daughter, who knew nothing of the plans and had been awakened by the sound of broken glass. In the bedroom, which was then Ronald Adair had hosted Richard Woodley, was the wax bust of the latter, with a round hole between the eyes. The bullet had passed through the wax and it was stuck in the wall, digging a small hole in the upholstery. Mannequin hanging from the shoulders of a gown that these Woodley, deeply shaken, ripped from its reproduction and ordered to burn instantly. They were so

past two when we returned to Kensington. Holmes had stopped talking since we left Park Lane, but never once tried to force it. His face spoke of serious thoughts and deep fatigue, and I for my part I was exhausted.

We climbed the stairs in silence and once again in complete darkness, the steps perfectly coordinated. Coming down the stairs, my door was the nearest, and there I stopped. Holmes hesitated. We had not talked about anything and certainly would be the time to do it, but it was so terribly late and there was not a muscle in my body that does not crave the rest. I opened the door and entered, simply, and closed with a turn of the key.

lit the lamp drifting in the dark quiet of my family room. The armchair in the corner by the window gently creaked under the weight of Holmes. I closed the screen of the lamp and pulled the curtains firmly.

Holmes studied me carefully, as if he could somehow divine what secrets the way I slipped off his jacket and hung in the closet.

"So," I said finally sitting on the corner of the bed closest to the chair. "Tell me."

"It is not easy," he said.

"I did not hurry." Undid the tie and threw it away, enjoying the fresh air on the throat. The fatigue was gone, but I felt strangely at peace with creation. I aimed my hands back on the mattress and I downloaded the weight of the bust, relaxing with a sigh.

"You're not making things easier," he remarked, smiling faintly.
"I do not have to," I replied.

Holmes leaned forward, elbows on knees, as if to counteract my position.

"You hate Sherlock Holmes," he said. "And I do not know, I really do not know how I will survive the moment when you realize that we are equal."

"You're not ..."

"We are the same," he repeated. "I am that monster, that manipulative, selfish. I rejoice more to solving a puzzle that for the salvation of a lifetime. Oh, you were too good, even if the puzzle is up to four or five lifetimes approaching. If you served my purposes, I would leave you to believe that three years are dead. I would. I did. And come back, after three years or seven or ten, and pretend that you were still here waiting for me. "

" You have plans to die a second time? "I asked, quietly.

"No. I plan to live much longer, and in ten or fifteen years to retire and buy a home in Sussex to live together for as long as possible. And to die first to ridiculously advanced age, seventy or eighty years, when your face will be the only thing that will make me want to stay on this earth a day. But this is not the point. "

I sat straighter. Holmes was deadly serious - pale, even.

"You know what I have just asked?"

"Yes, and I asked you. This is exactly the point. Watson ... "He ran his hand over his face. "God help me, I can not. Sopravvivrei not. "

" I will not go anywhere. "

" You'll do. I hate and you will. Or worse, I do not hate and

will. I can not even begin to explain what ... "

"No."

"Watson."

"No. Listen to me. I'm sorry I said those things, but have never been applied to you. No, let me speak. I hated Sherlock Holmes, and - we're talking about the character of the Strand - I hate him still. But you are not the same person, because Sherlock Holmes

is not a person. "

" It is, "he said, grimly. "It's me."

I shook my head. "No, it's just the surface. Maybe if I only look at a distance, without having full knowledge of all that stirs beneath the skin, if I just read the story of your most eccentric ways, your vices more unbearable and little else, maybe in that case I detest them. It would take a lot away, but you can. "

" Watson, really, you do not know what you're talking about. "

" I know perfectly. I do not think there is a drop of selfishness in you. You are cruel, when you want, but never for free. There is always a purpose, and is usually terribly noble, as understand it takes time. What if my service is useful for a particular purpose, are, you use me. I give you all. I can not conceive of a single gesture that you deliberately disrespectful, or infamous, or humiliating. I think I know enough to know. "

Holmes was silent.

"Know that I have a habit of changing opinion about the people I love. There's the narrow middle-class in this - do not say no. But on the other hand are only a general practitioner. You can not expect too kind. " The transition was too fast for memory states nor Serb, but I know that a moment later I was no longer alone on the bed, my hands and mouth full of Sherlock Holmes, and his fingers dug paths exquisite in my back. We were both exhausted by the day, he is not younger than me, if you smile a little frustrated that I reserved a moment later he felt something.

"Let's go to bed," I muttered over his shoulder, like a few hours first I said, 'Let's go home, "and meaning the same thing. A few minutes later, turn off lights.



+

Beth
We woke at the usual time, knocking on my door to announce that breakfast was served. I answered without thinking, but a moment after a long series of implications made its way into my mind slowed down by drowsiness. There were both of our coats in the hall, I reasoned, but Holmes's room was open and empty, unused bed, and then Mr. Holmes where he could have stayed? I jumped down, seized with a shiver of terror.

"out the window like a lover," muttered the person concerned beside me, divining my thoughts. Put his hand on my back in a long caress. "It shall return the door."

smiled irresistibly thrown back into the pillows. Holmes crawled her cheek on my shoulder, the healthy, and I spread my arm to place him. I touched the unkempt hair with your fingers.

I would not have objected to the idea of being so, in perfect peace, and take another hour or two of sleep. I remembered vaguely that it had visits until late morning, as in Holmes, sticking to its clients odd hours, often without an appointment, and therefore would not be a crime to leave once the door.

But Holmes was in excellent spirits, and in the quiet moments like he kept them.

"To start, I thought of the next month," he said against my chest. "Or the one after, maybe."

"Leaving? Parties? To where? "I replied, while my heart beat the absurdly accelerated, just as he had done moments before.

Holmes raised his head. "Let's go. My boy, do not believe that I do not appreciate your response, but you seem confused. Have not I promised that I would have taken to Paris this summer? Or anywhere else, for that matter. "

sighed. "I did not think I said seriously."
"I huff. Am I some one of those boastful inexperienced girls who promise to Paris to have easier access to their beds? "

" Do I look like an inexperienced girl? "

" Oh, no, "she murmured, rising on his elbow. "But look at the facts, doctor, this is your bed."

"Yes," I admitted softly. "An excellent deduction."

was my bed, really, and now that sleep was banished I appreciate the fact that there giacessimo together, barely covered by sheets, as well as the exquisite way in which the weak light all attenuated the roughness on the face of Holmes. The white blade of pure light through the curtains marked the chest from the shoulder to the opposite side, then completely immersed in the whiteness of the sheets.

I saw his fingers idly join the scar to the clavicle and brush her with reverence. It was an ugly scar, but the years they had mitigated the relief and lighten the color. Half-shut eyes, bowing his head to accommodate the slow ascent of his fingers along the curve of the neck.

"Breakfast is fredderà," I said lazily.

"It's inevitable," agreed Holmes. He stopped, inspired. "I remember once, at Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson had to heat it up twice, and in the end, however, ate cold. You had refused to ask to warm up again - a foolish scruple, if you allow me. We both knew she would, if asked gliel'avessi you. "

" This is not the point, "I said, as if I had really done what he was talking. It had become another habit. Sometimes Holmes spoke for hours about things I had said and done before '91. At first, gently corrected him, and he, impatiently, allowed to add, "... in my memories," or similar terms. But I had stopped for some time now and I could even natural step in and defend my actions as if you were really state.

"The point is," Holmes said, touching his throat, "the devil's breakfast."

"Oh, yes," I muttered. I stopped her hand, her touch so kind as to be inconsistent, both tremendously enjoyable and torture on the nerves. The events of the last month had changed me deeply, because I looked at my hand to pull her under the sheets as if it belonged to another.

Holmes smiled and reshaping its entire position to accommodate the move. His right leg went over my left elbow and his spot on the mattress next to my shoulder. So close, Holmes leaned to kiss. The effect was exquisite aesthetic perfection. Under the covers I touched his abdomen with the back of the fingers and the inside of the thigh, before collecting his manhood gently in the palm. Holmes gave a slight sigh, we are moving in my direction.

"I wonder," I muttered when the word was returned. There was not much of hesitation, because we were certain of one another, as the desire to proceed with all the calm as possible, to sip the last drop of passion, to make it a pleasant, dizzy exasperation. Among my half-closed eyelids, Holmes ran his tongue over his lips slowly.

"What?"

"What was it like before. Between you and I think we might say, the person I am in your memory. "I let my hand emerge from under the sheets, absently stroking his chest. "It's stupid of me, but I can not help but think that ... there will be comparisons, I suppose. I'm not worried, "she hastened to add, seeing his strange expression. "But I would feel least prepared." The I reported a lock too long behind the ear. "You know what I mean?"

"Yes," he said. "But you're right in thinking dartene. There is nothing to talk about. "

"In what way?"

"In the most literal of senses. I have nothing to tell. "

now seemed embarrassed, but the news I could so surprising that I sat down to deal with it in all its implications. "I am sure have you heard that ..."

"I doubt it."

"Before. We talked about Mrs. Hudson's breakfast ... cold. "

" Yes, "said Holmes. "This time we worked all night and much of the gossip columns on the morning of the last three months, seeking a foothold in a case. Mrs. Hudson was in hysterics when she saw that had been the living room. "

I could not find anything to say for a few seconds.

"Why do not you tell me?" I asked at the end.

"What? What
not
we never had a carnal relationship? They tell me things like that tend to be assumed. "

" No. No, before. First - in agreement, I can not put it in a way that does not sound crazy, but - before '91. Why do not you tell me you love me. "

" Because in my whole life I never managed to get one decent deduction on your account that does not affect the status of your boots or your preferences with regard to investment banking, "said resting her head on my pillow.

"This is certainly a lie."

"It's the truth. I was terrified. I would rather die than see you at the door with suitcases in hand. And then, "he gestured," there was the marriage. "He turned his head at me. "So you see, my boy, that there is no comparison possible," concluded the plan. "But with your permission, I will set a precedent on which to measure all future times. Should the world decide to go crazy again, at least I would have more interesting stories to tell. "

" will not happen, " I whispered, creeping closer. "But if it happens, you have my word that this time I'll be on the safe side."

felt a slight sense of vertigo and with just a chill when Holmes flew the covers away. Her look fits my body from head to foot and returned to my face, an inch perfect lips prisoner between the incisors. The liberal with a slight thumb pressure paid off for my little concern from a long series of kisses on the fingers and palm.

seemed to me that the weight of endless years and two separate universes were to concentrate on my bed, with the irresistible pressure of a few moments I imagined preceded the explosion of a star. Holmes then kissed me to suck my breath and muffled ears, and remembered that he was alive and no less real for me, both alive, and there was nothing in the world where you might be worried. The

rivoltai relaxed, taking his face in his hands. I climbed his legs up to rest, quiet and authoritarian, at the base of my back.

"I hope I did not have plans for the next ten or fifteen years," he murmured, a trace of anxiety in his voice. "And after ten or twenty of them."

closed my eyes. The world had stopped rotating, at least in my immediate vicinity. I kissed Holmes - strange to say, the most concrete and stable which I could think of - if the dizziness returned. not returned.




+



In July I received a letter from Percy Trevelyan, and in August I wrote a person who claimed to be the sister of Holmes.

reacted to the letter of my friend, I am sure, so much less sense of how I should have.

It was in early July, the echo of the arrest of Moran had not dissolved completely, and the part of Holmes in the story - as required out of the official pages - had already made the rounds of London. There had contributed largely to the young Richard Woodley, whose acquaintances high places he had been offered a variety of audiences and continuing to entertain with its history (in which a Scotland Yard, at best, was allowed to make a small appearance). In this wave of celebrities accompanied my friend to a wave of unprecedented employment: it seemed that the whole of London, suddenly, he dusted off his worst misdeeds to submit them to the great detective. It was mostly involved unworthy of my friend, that he accepted the resignation and methodical mind of the employee, just because they paid well and in the worst did not require more than a half-day investigation. But there were also cases more promising than those that did shine eyes and in which he threw himself body and soul, and these sometimes accompanied him, taking notes for his archive.

This turn, coincided with each other far more radical in our relationship, I do not worry, was, after all, nothing but a consolidation of a procedure already established itself in the last month. And Holmes was happy. There was an absurd but nevertheless functional balance in my life, and he was the fulcrum.

three weeks had passed since the first night that Holmes had spent in my bed - the first in a series, interrupted only by sporadic ones in which I was to visit him in his bedroom - when the letter came to Trevelyan.

breakage of the cup itself was an overreaction. I held her hand, the sheet in the other, and I was going to take it to his lips when, having reached the last line, the whole picture I had made it clear in his mind, and I finally understood the meaning: Trevelyan wanted to meet Holmes. The thought was so bad that my body instantly lost interest in anything else. The cup fell with a crash on the table, pouring tea on the tablecloth, and from there rolled to the edge of undisturbed on the floor and shattered.

"Watson! What is it? "Holmes asked, alarmed. On another occasion I

tried to feign indifference, but the cup was broken between us like a banner, a tangible proof of my concern. I handed him the letter without speaking. In it, Trevelyan apologized for not being able to respond to my request for some time before, because his recovery before and after the work had constantly busy, but it was said at my disposal from now on. Also expressed, if possible, the desire to meet this amazing detective friendly that I had kept hidden from the world for so long, because, he joked, 'having already shared the space of a story, it seems to me essential that we be able to meet, even in reality '.

Holmes looked up. "There is no connection between the two," he said. "So your friend does not know ...?"
"No, no." Now that the horror was over, I was ashamed of my moment of
defaillance
. "At no time told him nothing. It was not something that you could talk to the telegram. "

" So why are you so upset? "

" I am not, "I answered honestly. "It was just a moment."

Holmes folded sheet with the method and set it on the table, exactly half way. Then he lit a cigarette. He was thoughtful and I saw well.

"There's something I do not know?" Asked finally, his cheek on the palm.

"No. Of course not. "

" I do not understand. It is not guilt, you're not avoiding my gaze. And if Trevelyan does not know me you have reason to worry, why not find out. What is it? "

I covered my mouth with his hand. It was an indescribable feeling, a mixture of fear and repulsion, and was eventually nominated for Holmes to me.

"Ah," he said. "Do you still believe that I should visit me?" I asked calmly and politely, but I felt the same revulsion to hide behind the steel his voice, the same infinite disgust that I felt at that moment.

"No!" I reached out his hand to cover resting on the table. "I do not mean - oh, to hell with the cavalry. I'm not a saint, and I will not do anything to take away from me. I am the last stage of the process of human evolution to the most abject selfishness, and this has already been discharged. "At this

Holmes smiled and bent down to kiss his fingers. The fact that he is bent almost at the table instead of bringing my hand to my mouth images and thoughts provoked entirely inappropriate time and place. "However," I muttered, replace the feeling nausea, "I can not help but wonder if my behavior is not worthy."

"Unworthy of what? Of your profession? Your sense of honor? Of me? "

" Of all these things and more, yes, "I said. "This is not the first time I think. Holmes, please do not get me wrong, I do not want to change anything between us, but I wonder if it is not my selfishness to keep you from ... to ... "

" Healing? "She suggested, coolly.

I nodded, unable to force myself to say it.

Holmes pinned gaze out the window, smoking casually. I for my part I completely lost my appetite, and I dropped my fork into the pot with a bad grace, pulling his feet. Glancing in the street, I imagined the car to a sanitarium stops in front of my door, black, anonymous yet perfectly recognizable, and Holmes spontaneously climb with his usual regal pace, looked left and right by two sturdy porters. I could not resist the image, and pulled the curtain shutter as he could cover up something that was just in my mind.

"Your guilt is illogical," said Holmes close to my ear. I kissed her neck. "You say that I could heal. I doubt it, but consider the possibilities. Why do I hand over healing? A tedious normality, the greyness of human life, without a shadow of a challenge, an obstacle. No puzzles to solve. Without in any way to train your mind. Maybe you can not imagine that place is my mind when boredom takes over. I will not attempt to describe it, because I do not want you to know. But take my word, and know that I do not speak lightly when I say that climb more willingly to the gallows. How could I resist? A month? One year? And then what? "He shook his arms around and rested his chin on my shoulder, as I had to hold onto the only wreck in the storm.

"Holmes, you may enter ..."

"I told you you could decide what to do with me. The decision is still yours, always has been. "

closed my eyes. "I have no decision to make," I whispered. "Even if it was the best thing for you, I'd be too cowardly to say yes." I turned away, because I felt disgusted with myself too much to bear them near me, but his expression made me regret. "Forgive me. It is almost time for visits, "I said without looking. I picked up the letter and I took refuge in my studio.

meeting with Percy proved entirely harmless, even pleasant, but the echo of that conversation was still buried in my mind when, a month after we returned from Paris.