Sherlock Holmes-The Final Chapter

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Contents

1 Tuesday March 6th 1894, 10.30pm: Belgravia House Restaurant, Duke Street,

London 

2 Thursday March 8th 1894, 11am: St Francis Convent, Glenshiel, Scotland 

3 Thursday March 8th 1894, 6pm: Edinburgh Waverley Railway Station, Scotland

4 Friday March 9th 1894, 11.15am: King’s Cross Railway Station, London

5 Friday March 9th 1894, 2.30pm: 221B Baker Street, London

6 Saturday March 10th 1894, 8.30am: 221B Baker Street, London

7 Saturday March 10th 1894, 12.30pm: Residence of Wang Li, near Regent’s Park, London

8 Saturday March 10th 1894, 1pm: 221B Baker Street, London

9 Saturday March 10th 1894, 6.30pm: 221B Baker Street, London

10 Saturday March 10th 1894, 8pm: 221B Baker Street, London

11 Monday March 12th 1894, 11am: Office of the Commissioner of the Metropolitan

Police, Scotland Yard, London

12 Monday March 12th 1894, 12.15pm: 221B Baker Street, London

13 Monday March 12th 1894, 2pm: Great Marlborough Street Police Station, London

14 Monday March 12th 1894, 6pm: 221B Baker Street, London

15 Monday March 12th 1894, 9pm: Room 200, Royal Strand Hotel, London

16 Monday March 12th 1894, 9.30pm: The Bull public house, Inkerman Street, London

17 Monday March 12th 1894, 10pm: Royal Strand Hotel, London

18 Monday March 12th 1894, 11pm: 77 Russell Square, London

19 Monday March 12th 1894, 11.55pm: Royal Strand Hotel, London

20 Tuesday March 13th 1894, 10am: Office of the Commissioner of the Metropolitan

Police, Scotland Yard, London

21 Tuesday March 13th 1894, 11am: Great Marlborough Street Police Station, London

22 Tuesday March 13th 1894, 4pm: The Bull public house, Inkerman Street, London

23 Tuesday March 13th 1894, 8pm: Royal Strand Hotel, London

24 Tuesday March 13th 1894, 11pm: Muster room, Great Marlborough Street Police Station,

London

25 Wednesday March 14th 1894, 12.30am: Royal Strand Hotel, London

26 Wednesday March 14th 1894, 1am: Great Marlborough Street Police Station, London

27 Wednesday March 14th 1894, 1.30am: Muster room, Great Marlborough Street Police

Station, London

28 Wednesday March 14th 1894, 4pm: The Bull public house, Inkerman Street, London

29 Wednesday March 14th 1894, 6pm: Emma’s bedroom, Royal Strand Hotel, London

30 Wednesday March 14th 1894, 10pm: Royal Strand Hotel, London

31 Thursday March 15th 1894, 12.15am: Great Marlborough Street Police Station, London

32 Thursday March 15th 1894, 2pm: Great Marlborough Street Police Station, London

33 Friday March 16th 1894, 8pm: Royal Strand Hotel, London

34 Friday March 16th 1894, 9.30pm: Residence of Wang Li, near Regent’s Park, London

35 Friday March 16th 1894, 9.45pm: Royal Strand Hotel, London

36 Friday March 16th 1894, 11.30pm: Great Marlborough Street Police Station, London

37 Friday March 16th 1894, 11.55pm: Royal Strand Hotel, London

38 Saturday March 17th 1894, 12.15am: Great Marlborough Street Police Station, London

39 Saturday March 17th 1894, 12.45pm: Royal Strand Hotel, London

40 Saturday March 17th 1894, 1.15am: Great Marlborough Street Police Station, London

41 Saturday March 17th 1894: 1.45am: Wang Li’s East India Dock warehouse

42 Saturday March 17th 1894, 2am: Muster room, Great Marlborough Street Police

Station, London

43 Sunday March 18th 1894, 8am: 221B Baker Street, London

44 Sunday March 18th 1894, 11am: 77 Russell Square, London

45 Monday March 19th 1894, 10am: 221B Baker Street, London

Chapter 1

Tuesday March 6th 1894, 10.30pm

Belgravia House Restaurant, Duke Street, London

Holmes and his loyal and trusted companion Dr Watson are seated at a table drinking coffee, having spent the evening dining together. Putting down his cup, Watson says: Well, Holmes, I must say that was, without doubt, a meal to die for.

I hope that you’re not taking that literally, says Holmes with a wry smile.

Of course not, besides, Holmes, it’s not good to die on a full stomach, not good for the digestive system!

As they finish their coffee, Watson summons the waiter for the bill. While waiting for it, Watson asks, So, Holmes, what plans for tomorrow?

I think we should pay our old friend Inspector Andrews a visit and see what information he can give us about our current adversary Wang Li. I’m sure the police must have a big file on him. I’d hate for us to tread on his toes, or he on ours, for that matter.

But you know we’re playing with fire with Wang Li. These Chinese think differently to us, differently to the normal type of criminal we come across, for that matter, says Watson.

Holmes leans across the table and lowers his voice. Yes, they do. That’s why extra caution is needed. But, equally, they don’t know how we think, do they? And, of course, you and I occasionally operate outside the law, do we not? That gives us a slight edge.

You know, Holmes, I fear one day operating outside the law may get us into trouble, replies Watson, concerned,

Holmes quickly reassures him: Well, let’s just hope that day never comes.

The waiter brings the bill. Holmes examines it, opens his purse and takes out a ten-shilling note. He hands it to the waiter, saying, Keep the change.

Thank you, sir. I’ll get your hats and coats. As the waiter walks away, Holmes and Watson follow him. At the restaurant’s front door, the waiter hands them their coats and their hats, Holmes taking his traditional deerstalker and Watson his bowler. As Holmes puts on his hat, Watson jovially says, Holmes, I wish you wouldn’t keep wearing that silly-looking hat – it really does nothing for you!

Holmes, trying to keep a straight face, replies: Of course, it does. Besides it keeps my ears warm on cold nights like this.

The waiter interjects: Would you like me to summon you a hansom cab?

If you wouldn’t mind, replies Holmes.

Certainly, sir, if you would care to wait here.

The waiter opens the door and goes outside, returning moments later. There’s one waiting outside. Holmes and Watson step into the cold night air.

Good night, gentlemen, and thank you, says the waiter. Please call again.

I’m sure we will, replies Watson. He looks up at the cab driver, whose face is covered by a scarf, and says: 221B Baker Street if you’d be so kind.

The driver nods. Watson opens the carriage door and Holmes gets in. Watson follows, closing the door behind him. They sit back in their seats facing each other as the cab moves off quickly, the horse’s hooves clopping along the quiet cobbled street.

That was an excellent meal, if I may say so, Holmes.

It was. It’s nice to sample such culinary delights. Makes a change from Mrs Hudson’s stews and meat puddings, says Holmes, smiling.

Watson yawns. I don’t know about you, Holmes, but I for one am ready for my bed.

After a short time, Holmes moves forward to look out of the window. Then he looks at Watson and, in a concerned voice, says, Watson, have you noticed anything?

Like what?

Like the fact that we appear to heading in a different direction to that which we should be heading.

Trying to offer a plausible explanation, Watson says, Perhaps the driver is taking a different route.

Hmm, maybe, replies Holmes apprehensively.

He sits back again. After a few moments, he bangs on the cab roof with his cane, signalling the driver to stop. This goes unnoticed and the carriage continues on its journey. Again Holmes bangs on the roof, this time shouting to the driver: Driver, stop now, please!

Holmes, come now, you’re over-reacting, says Watson.

Perhaps, perhaps not

Finally the carriage comes to a halt in a dark side street.

Holmes slowly opens the door and gets out, looking towards the back of the hansom cab. The driver is nowhere to be seen. Watson follows. They look at each other and then both turn and look up and down the street. It is quiet and deserted.

Now who’s over-reacting? There’s something amiss here, Watson. Best be on your guard.

Where’s the driver?

Gone

Watson asks, Do you know where we are?

No, but it’s a place I think we need to get away from – now!

Well, why don’t we take the carriage and hotfoot it out of here? I think I can drive one of these things.

I don’t think that’s now an option, Watson. Take a look.

As he turns, Watson sees four men approaching, two from each end of the street.

What do you think, Holmes?

I think we’re in trouble. Do you have your revolver with you?

No. I thought we were going out to dinner, not to a gun fight.

Do you have your police whistle with you?

Yes.

Then, Watson, I’d suggest now is the time to blow it.

Watson takes out his police whistle, blowing it loudly three times in quick succession. The shrill sounds pierce the cold night air. For a moment, the approaching men stop, listening for any sounds and movements that might result from Watson blowing his whistle. The silence is unbroken. The men now continue to walk towards Holmes and Watson. As they emerge from the darkness, the two companions see that their adversaries are Oriental, dressed in traditional attire. Two of them are carrying what look to be wooden clubs.

What do we do now, Holmes?

I’d wager that they’re members of Wang Li’s gang. We’ve no choice – we must stand and fight and hope that your whistle has attracted some attention and that assistance will soon be to hand.

Holmes and Watson stand back to back, facing the men who have almost reached them. As they do, from behind two of them, another shadowy figure emerges and steps into the half light. Holmes and Watson now see that it is a slim Chinese man in his early fifties, clean shaven, standing no more than five feet four inches tall, dressed in a morning suit. It is none other than Wang Li.

He addresses them in good, clear, if broken, English: Mr Holmes and Dr Watson, we meet at last. It is such a shame it has to be under these circumstances.

I can’t say the feeling is mutual, Mr Li. I presume this set-up is of your making? says Holmes.

Well, I wanted us to meet sooner rather than later, Mr Holmes. It seems that you have been meddling in my affairs, and I do not like anyone doing that, especially someone like you who has influential friends in the constabulary. It makes me uneasy.

Holmes replies sarcastically, Well, Mr Li, if you didn’t break the law, you’d have nothing to worry about.

Mr Holmes, I do not look on my private enterprises as breaking the law. Anyway, I cannot remain here much longer. The night is getting colder and I just wanted to come and wish you both a fond farewell.

Farewell? says Watson.

Wang Li turns to his men. You know what has to be done, and be quick about it. The four Oriental men step forward as Wang Li turns and walks away into the darkness of the night.

I should tell you, Holmes, that I’ve not really been practising my unarmed combat methods, says Watson.

Well, improvise.

Easier said than done old chap

The four Chinese men advance quickly towards Holmes and Watson, and in a few seconds all four have engaged them in a fight. Watson takes hold of one of the men brandishing a club, taking hold of the man’s arm to prevent him being hit with it. In the same movement, he aims a blow at the man’s face, catching him squarely on the chin and knocking him to the ground. Watson looks quickly back towards Holmes and sees that the detective is having difficulty avoiding the wooden club brandished by with one of the assailants. He attempts to go to Holmes’ assistance, but as he turns, he is jumped on from behind by another of the men.

Watson’s physical strength is more than a match for that of the man on his back. The doctor swings him around and throws him to the floor, seriously winding him, which gives him the opportunity to go to Holmes’ assistance. Taking hold of the man attacking Holmes, he snatches the club from his hand, spins him around and hits him firmly over the head with it. The man falls unconscious to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Holmes has been wrestled to the floor by the remaining two attackers and is trying to defend himself while one of them sits astride him. A long-bladed knife glints in the man’s hand as he draws up his arm to stab Holmes, but Watson lunges at him and manages to knock him off balance. The knife falls to the floor and Watson kicks it out of reach.

Holmes, now able to get to his feet, looks towards Watson: Thank you, Watson. That was a bit too close for comfort.

My pleasure old chap

I wish you’d stop calling me ‘old chap’, says Holmes.

Right-o, old chap, says Watson with a smile.

Holmes and Watson again stand back to back. Three of the Oriental men circle them; the fourth is still lying unconscious on the ground.

Well, the odds are a little more even. You best give another blow on your police whistle as it seems these men aren’t going to stop, says Holmes to Watson.

Watson quickly takes out the whistle and again blows repeatedly. The three men advance towards them. As one rushes forward, Holmes leads with a straight right punch that interrupts his adversary’s momentum. Once again, they all become embroiled in another tussle with punches from both sides.

Meanwhile, the fourth assailant has regained consciousness. He sits up and sees the knife lying on the floor. He looks across to where the others are fighting and unnoticed slides across the pavement to pick up the knife. He stands up, draws his arm back and thrusts the knife at the nearest target, Dr Watson’s back.

Holmes sees this out of the corner of his eye and pushes Watson aside. As he does, he stumbles, placing himself within the arc of the knife attack intended for Watson. Unable to move away quickly enough, the knife strikes him in the chest, penetrating deeply, and he falls slowly to the pavement.

In the distance, police whistles can be heard as help comes nearer. On hearing them, the Oriental men run off into the darkness. Watson, seeing what has happened to Holmes, rushes over to him. The long knife is still protruding from his chest and the wound is bleeding profusely. Watson cradles Holmes in his arms.

Holmes, oh no, why did you do that?

Holmes, feeling his life slipping away, says faintly: You did say it wasn’t a good night to die, didn’t you?

Watson is now distraught, seeing his old friend’s life slipping away before him. He tells him: You’re not going to die. I’ll get you to a hospital. Help is at hand.

Shaking his head, Holmes whispers, Nice try, old chap. You’ve been a good friend and I’ll miss you.

Police officers quickly arrive on the scene having heard the sound of Watsons whistle and rush over to them.

Quick, we must get him to hospital! Go fetch a carriage - anything! Watson shouts.

One of the officers replies, Yes, sir, right away! and runs up the street.

Watson looks down at Holmes, who is staring up at him. Stay with me, don’t you dare die! You can’t die! The emotion he is feeling almost renders him speechless.

Holmes coughs and blood seeps down his chin. He closes his eyes and, as his life slips away, he takes his final breath.

Watson cradles him in his arms, looks up to the sky and cries: No! No! No! No!

His worst fear has been realised. He had always been terrified that, one day, either he or Holmes would meet their death at the hands of one of their foes. For his friend Sherlock Holmes, that day had now come.

Chapter 2

Thursday March 8th 1894, 11am

St Francis Convent, Glenshiel, Scotland

It started off as just another normal day for the sisters who run the convent, but for one of them, it would be a day that would change the rest of her life.

Sister Emma, who has been at the convent since she was a very small child, is now a fully grown woman of twenty-five. Her complexion is fair, as is her hair, which is now cropped and hidden beneath a cornette. She is busy rearranging the books in the library when another nun, Sister Mary, who is of similar age, enters the library. On seeing her, Sister Emma looks up and greets her: Hello, Sister Mary. Have you come here to read?

No, I came to tell you that mother superior would like to see you in her office now.

Did she say what it was about?

No, she just said you must come at once.

All right, I’d best go then. I’ll finish this when I return.

Sister Emma leaves the library and walks the short distance down the corridor to the Mother Superior’s office. She knocks on the door and a voice from within calls: Come in.

The Mother Superior has been in charge of the convent for the past thirty years. Now in her late sixties, she commands the respect of all the younger sisters whom she oversees.

You sent for me, says Sister Emma, walking up to the desk behind which the mother superior is seated.

Yes, my dear. Please sit.

Sister Emma does as she has been commanded. The Mother Superior is silent for what to the younger woman seems a very long time. Is there something wrong? Have I done something wrong? she asks with concern.

No, nothing like that The Mother Superior takes a deep breath before continuing. Sister Emma, you have been with us for many years, ever since you were a wee girl. Have you been happy here?

Yes, Reverend Mother. You were kind enough to take me in when my parents died, and for that, I thank you, and I have to thank God for looking down on us here and keeping us all safe and allowing us to do his work.

The Mother Superior’s expression changes, as if she had finally come to a decision. She quickly discloses the reason for her talk with the young nun: "Emma, when you first came here, I knew that there might come a time when you would have to leave us, and that time, I believe, has