A DOGGED MEMORY
by elfin
Part Four - Rivals
It was strange to have the two of them under the same roof now. I
felt as if I was in the middle of something that only I knew of.
Henry Baskerville, with whom I had shared several nights of unadulterated
pleasure and no small number of very intimate secrets. And Sherlock
Holmes, the man I loved with all my heart, the man who would never know me
as Henry had, but who would always have my devotion.
Holmes broke the sad news to Mrs Barrymore, leaving out the details about
the hound, before Henry bade them take the night off. We found ourselves
some bread and cheese and sat around the kitchen table talking until the small
hours.
Then, purporting to be exhausted after his nights out in the cold, Holmes
turned in with a smile for each of us, heading up to the second guest room
that the maid had prepared for him.
A few moments later, Henry and I also retired to bed.
We took our pleasure in each other slowly and, dare I say it, lovingly.
My need for him was borne on the relief I'd felt, that afternoon, at Holmes'
exclamation that the shattered body belonged to Seldon, and not our ward.
And yet afterwards I lay awake for a long time thinking of Holmes.
This place, so cut off from the rest of the world, had opened up possibilities
previously closed to me. With Henry it was so easy, because eventually
I would walk away from here and pick up my life in London.
Holmes was my life. The most important person ever to know me.
Risking our friendship was unthinkable, no matter how much I might desire
him.
~~~
I performed an autopsy on the unfortunate Seldon the following morning at
the police mortuary in Grimpen.
It was one of the most vicious attacks I'd ever seen; his flesh torn from
the bone, the network of veins and muscles hanging from the wounds.
I shivered to think that it might have been my dear Henry lying on the slab,
cold and dead under my knife.
It was there, as is already known, that Holmes revealed his theories to
me. Stapleton was our man and it came as no surprise. To discover
that the lovely Miss Stapleton was, in fact, Mrs did shock me slightly.
I remembered her advances towards Henry and here I mentioned them.
"Stapleton must have quickly realised that she would be of more use to him
if men looked upon her as a free woman." Holmes chuckled to himself,
and turned from me. "How irritated he must be right now."
I might have picked up on the quiet comment, but as usual in these situations
my mind was racing to pinpoint a motive.
"I can't say right now," Holmes told me when I at last asked him.
"There is something here, something eluding even me. Something... about
the name." He paused, lost in his own chaotic thoughts, then pushed
away from the edge of the slab, shaking his head. "We must return
to Baskerville Hall."
They were his last words to me until we were far onto the moor.
~~~
fin part four