Once again, good day! This is Dr. Watson. I continue telling this interesting and traumatic story of which I am a co-participant.
This was the dawn of a stormy and difficult day, full of pessimistic expectations, bad omens and painful memories that revolved around who was known as Sherlock Holmes. Even if the sky were sunny and beautiful, within my immense suffering, I would continue considering this as one of the darkest and most disastrous moments of my life.
Under the door of my room was the newspaper 24 Heures dated May 10, 1891. I quickly saw the headlines and didn´t find any important chronicle. It seemed that just as the news of the death of my great friend appeared rapidly, it was fading almost instantly. I reflected: "Will Sherlock Holmes be forgotten? Or will he become a legend that will persist for the next centuries?" I still didn´t know exactly why the detective generates a certain admiration and strange fascination. For many persons, he was a hero or some kind of righteous, who fought for peace and justice, while those of us who had the opportunity and the privilege of knowing him, were extremely disappointed and tired of his follies and inappropriate behaviors, which would arouse the concerns of the best psychiatrists on the European continent. However, the personality of the famous detective Sherlock Holmes, an unprecedented case for psychiatric science, and perhaps a future cult reference for spiritualists and practitioners of the so-called occult sciences, which aren´t scientific branches, would continue to be the subject of study for many more years, perhaps decades.
Sadly, I perceived that my work, entrusted by the British Royalty, to protect and help my deceased great friend, had come to an end, and it was highly probable that my immense efforts for the service of the country would not be recognized, prevailing two unfortunate options: I would be forgotten or remain as the great villain that could not save the famous detective. In any case, the audacious and foolish Sherlock Holmes frustrated my aspiration to become a British gentleman, and at the same time, he destroyed my reputation and legacy. I thought: "Who is going to trust the doctor who couldn´t prevent the death of Sherlock Holmes? What will my patients think?" At least, since I work privately, I don´t have to see the faces of other doctors or listen to their reproaches for disregarding their previous advices, and refusing to lock up Sherlock Holmes in a psychiatric hospital.
What a disappointment! At this stage of my life, I didn´t know if the right decisions were made, or if I were postponing them, expecting to cure Sherlock Holmes, and be recognized and rewarded by Her Majesty. Not even the skillful, cunning and calculating Sherlock Holmes, who continually gave me clues about almost everything that was happening and could happen, gave me evidences about his possible end, or if he provided me those clues, I was unable to assimilate, analyze and understand them properly.
I insist, what a great frustration! Although I have made enormous efforts to overcome my adverse emotional states, trying to imitate the motivation and determination of the saint Job to get ahead, my motivation hadn´t awakened. Even more Job suffered too much! He was unfairly accused by three friends, which mistakenly believed that he and his deceased sons were great sinners, deserving colossal punishments by the Divine Justice. Also, I remember that at a certain point, Job realized that he had to restore his honor and that of his family. At that time, the long-suffering Job was transformed and became a resilient individual, willing to use his best abilities to end his unbearable pain and rebuild his life, managing to win the debate, and finally being blessed by the Lord, with a new family, much prosperity and well-being for the rest of his life.
Nonetheless, I can´t compare myself with Job nor do I have his courage, neither his deep religious conviction or extraordinary abilities to lift up again and again. I am very similar to the vast majority of mortals and don´t know exactly how Sherlock Holmes would have reacted, if he had dealt with a similar situation. Of course, if I had died, instead of the famous detective, perhaps he would have been between an emotional state of severe depression and one of denial of reality, with no chance of recovery, ending up in a psychiatric institution.
Elementary, my dear Watson!
I imagined that Sherlock Holmes spoke to me. I clarify that I don´t believe in ghosts or spirits from beyond. This was a construction of my mind, on its way to overcome suffering. What I did perceive is that the antagonistic and versatile detective, loved and despised at the same time by me, since I miss my friend and also remember the bad experiences shared with him, developed an original plan. Despite his selfishness and intentions of revenge against Irene Adler and her family environment, he chose between two cold options: I died or he would be murdered. Obviously, the outcome of the events, caused by the proactivity and decisions of the esteemed detective, occurred in favor of preserving my life, to the detriment of Sherlock Holmes. Or in other words, the stubborn detective sacrificed himself for me and Mrs. Watson, due in part to the fact that he could not continue living without our company.
I also didn´t know if my detective friend made this decision impulsively or if he thought about it for a long time. Although, I remember that sometimes when he gave me the papers with reminders to buy gifts for the Swindhit, he looked at me in a strange way, as if I were the next victim of that criminal group. Usually, in a few moments, Sherlock Holmes went from good humor to sadness, or from a certain well-being, since he never was happy, to rage and hatred. However, at that time, somewhat disappointed by his behavior, I didn´t pay attention to this new symptom, also considering that feelings of contempt and hostility between the detective and the Swindhit persisted, which also affected me and had Mrs. Watson very nervous.
I understood everything better! Every day that passed a new piece of the puzzle of the strange death of Sherlock Holmes was put together, but it would be difficult for me to have the complete picture, and in those times, I considered that it was impossible for the beloved detective to resurrect and kindly tell me the whole truth.
This immense latent pain over the death of Sherlock Holmes, partially tempered by my psychological skills, reflections and meditation exercises, and the uncertainty about the possibility of what is going to happen in the future, would easily drive others to an eventual suicide. I am not sure! Although I am not like Job, I have some resilient qualities, and at least the combination of my experience with traumatized patients, the learning of Holmesian logic, and the conditional support of an ally, previously considered as adversary, Mrs. Watson, whom I desisted of treating her as former Mrs. Watson, have given me certain optimism, but not motivation. I insist, still I am not well! These traumas and emotional problems are very serious! But life goes on! And there are great challenges ahead!
Wonderfully, contrary to my emotions and confusions, successes and failures, which could encourage me to conceive a sad day, the dawn was sunny and even the powerful sun rays penetrated the thin curtains of the small balcony. Of course, while Mrs. Watson was still sleeping, in the other bed, it was very easy to open the curtains and the glass door, and lean out to contemplate the majesty of the landscape. That´s what I did! I took the opportunity to observe the nature and attend my meditation practices, trying to clear my mind. How sensational are the Swiss Alps! What an incredible and impressive contrast! I saw a beautiful blue sky, white and green mountains, a bright blue lake, more precious than the sky, and green and flowery meadows as if there were an eternal spring. I would like very much to stay and live here! But… My commitments and personal problems, aggravated by the reckless and at the same time heroic behavior of Sherlock Holmes, prevent me to do this. I also can´t renounce to my British nationality. But… I would like to live here during the last years of my existence… I still remember that I enjoyed the trip here, contemplating the beautiful landscapes with my friend Sherlock Holmes. I can´t forget those emotions! But... I still didn´t know what the definitive course of my life was, and I would have liked to tell a new story about my aspirations and new projects in Switzerland...
I observed this scenery for more than twenty minutes, feeling the warm and pleasant rays of the Sun, as I verified, following the recommendations of the unforgettable Sherlock Holmes. At first, I wrote the time on a piece of paper: "7:12 in the morning."; and later I looked again at the time on my pocket watch, noting: "7:35." Exactly twenty-three minutes! Despite my mental deficiencies, I remembered that one of my patients, who miraculously recovered, prayed the twenty-third Psalm, known as the Psalm of healing.
Nonetheless, within this unusual situation, another variable persisted in the complex emotional equation: the discovery of the true nature of Mrs. Watson.
I was confused! Was she or wasn´t she in love with me? Was our marriage fake? Did she marry me for love or superior orders? If her mission was to take down the Swindhit, Moriarty, Adler, Norton, or whatever these criminal groups and their leaders are called, then… Was she using me as the perfect alibi to continue working undercover? Or… Did her mission include being close to Sherlock Holmes? Following instructions from the secret service office? Or by orders of Her Majesty? I was remembering these reflections, feeling an immense disappointment, as if she had manipulated or treated me like a puppet...
Moreover, since we met, there was hardly a day that Mrs. Watson didn´t ask me about details of the detective's life. How naive I was! Did this happen to me for being a fool in love? To my detriment, this formidable spy, Mrs. Watson, did her job very well. Now, I understand why the Scotland Yard agents distrust me! I was the pawn of a political game and power struggles between groups of the British government! Possibly, the secret service office, staunch rival of Scotland Yard, has too much information of Sherlock Holmes.
And… It´s my fault! I should never have revealed what I knew about the detective to my dear wife… I was still confused! But… I analyzed the last words of Mrs. Watson… She believes that I have more information and understanding of the ways of thinking and acting of the detective than the officials of the secret service.
Again, what a big disappointment! If the Queen of England, dismayed by the death of Sherlock Holmes, finds out that I provided details of the life and personality of the hermetic detective to the secret service, she will never grant me with the British knighthood. Because of my attitude of being easily fooled by a woman, who was more dominant than Sherlock Holmes, Her Majesty could claim that the same data was also handed over by me to foreign government espionage agencies or criminal gangs. Even if Mrs. Watson were a double agent, or when drinking while playing cards with her so-called sister-cousins, or if she made any concessions to the most vulnerable members of the Swindhit, infiltrators or future protected witnesses, then there are people who are extremely dangerous, like the Swindhit, Moriarty, Adler, Norton or other unknown thugs, who know too much about Sherlock Holmes...
I insist... It´s my big fault! Instead of protecting the detective's secrets, as I was entrusted, I indirectly told them to the secret service office and don´t know to who else! No wonder Irene Adler always wins! And I thought sadly that Sherlock Holmes had no choice! It wasn´t just a matter of saving me! He had to protect his life! Beyond defending the Watson family, or taking revenge on Irene Adler, or taking down Europe's worst criminal gangs, or imposing law and order in England, the cold and calculating Sherlock Holmes put his personal safety first.
Once again, how naive I was! In addition to not understanding that Mrs. Watson was using me to get information from my great friend, I also wasn´t aware that he was practically forced to fight, in order to save his own life. I was ignorant and blind! I was also an idiot for not accompanying him on his trip around the world on time! But… There are points in my favor! I am not 100% responsible of the death of Sherlock Holmes! Not even Irene Adler would have discovered the ruthless Mrs. Watson. Furthermore, if the detective's almost eternal fugitive knew of these events, she would remarkably envy dear Mrs. Watson, since my wife deceived me often. Of course, at that time, I couldn´t deduce the truth, nor should the audacious Sherlock Holmes tell it to me… There were excuses! But… These weren´t going to revive Sherlock Holmes…
In my mental conception and worldview of that time, I liked to think that there are two Watson ladies. The former is sweet, kind, caring, patient and helpful, and she is still in love with me. While at the other extreme, the second is cold, ruthless and calculating, she never fell in love with me, is a skilled spy who competes with the legacy of the deceased Sherlock Holmes and seeks to defeat his main enemies: James Moriarty, Irene Adler and the Swindhit gang. She may also be a double agent at the service of the highest bidder, though she bears no signs of wealth. Obviously, this characterization is radical, simple and only reflects two opposite poles. I also imagine several Watson ladies, some love me and others don´t, while some are loyal to the British government and other aren´t. This is the way my brain tries to discover the true reality. I reiterate that my feelings and emotional states were confusing, and as Sherlock Holmes taught me, I had to combine my perceptions, hunches, reasoning, experiences and clues to deduce the best possible solution. Likewise, I thought that it was likely that the evil version of Mrs. Watson could made some significant mistake, which is common in those who tell lies or assume false identities, and that I could unmask that woman and learn her real intentions.
I repeat, the uncertainty about the true nature of Mrs. Watson had me alarmed, and for the moment, I had no choice but to continue trusting her, with certain reservations, and collaborate with the competent authorities. Perhaps, several months or years later, I would deal with other problems such as the continuity or end of our marriage, which seemed conceived for convenience, and the recovery of the fortune that I invested in the properties of Sherlock Holmes. Given these new conditions, I still could not argue with her, expecting that in the near future Mrs. or former Mrs. Watson would help me with the pending recoveries from relatives of Sherlock Holmes, and also to improve my image before those who trusted me to attend the famous detective.
I kept thinking, but she woke up and greeted me cordially, with a strong kiss and hug. I saw no signs of anger or discomfort on her face. That day I made the coffee and cookies, and we had breakfast together. As expected, despite I asked her a few questions about her work in the secret service office and her interests in getting to know Sherlock Holmes better, Mrs. Watson chose not to answer, indicating that we should hurry to search for the body and the stolen belongings. However, I told her:
-Do you love me?
She answered:
-I have always loved you!
-If you still doubt...
-I will have to leave you!
Then, Mrs. Watson got scared and said:
-I didn´t want to say that!
-Don´t be annoying!
-You know well that I love you!
Nonetheless, the damage was done. From her answers, I could infer that a gray area prevails in her brain and heart. It was highly possible that Mrs. Watson, busy on delicate missions, with great concerns and nervous problems, was emotionally confused and still in love with me, but with a strong disposition to leave me, once she fulfilled her main objectives. Both the deceased Sherlock Holmes and myself were serious emotional problems for Mrs. Watson, accustomed to a difficult life, although her capacity for resistance or resilience was wearing thin. On that occasion, I also considered that the best solution for us, once the activities related to the Sherlock Holmes' case were concluded, was to separate. For now, we would have to continue working together and I shouldn´t think of her as the former Mrs. Watson. In short, she isn´t guilty of the evil in this world or the madness committed by Sherlock Holmes, who is capable of ending any marriage, family, society or government. Like myself, she was another pawn in a complex political game...
Over the next few days, accompanied by a team of five tour guides, who supposedly knew well the Reichenbach Falls and their surrounding areas, we traveled through that region. Certainly, these activities took too long because only one of them, who had a worn uniform and dirty shoes, evidencing that he used them for several years, and didn´t speak English well, knew the place. While the other four wore impeccable new clothes and clean shoes, and conversed fluently in British English. Obviously, as Sherlock Holmes would have inferred, we had only one expert guide, native of Switzerland, and four British agents from the secret service office.
One of those days, we arrived at the supposed site where Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty fought. Fortunately, the absence of precipitations in previous days helped to preserve the footsteps of the detective and his opponent, directed towards the dangerous falls. Although early researchers, who even photographed and drew them, concluded that they both fell, I got the strong impression that Sherlock Holmes first pushed professor Moriarty, then jumped or grabbed a branch and climbed through an untraceable path. I mentioned this to Mrs. Watson, and she told me loudly, so that the officials could hear this, that it was impossible and I continued denying the death of Sherlock Holmes. In addition, the real guide told us that since they both fell into these deep waters, it was impossible for them to remain alive, and it was also not feasible to recuperate the corpses. This was a great cause of concern to Mrs. Watson, who desperately wanted to recover the belongings stolen by the famous detective.
Inside me, certain hesitations persisted. I thought: "Why are we going through the crime scene, if Scotland Yard and Swiss government officials already came here? Is there something they didn´t see? Or are there reasonable doubts about the disappearance of Sherlock Holmes? Why did Mrs. Watson yell that my deductions are wrong?" I didn´t like the look on her face. At first, she was scared by the slightest possibility that Sherlock Holmes had escaped this fateful end, and then my wife calmed down before the faces of conviction of the British agents, who didn´t like to visit the European continent or share intelligence information with their Swiss counterparts. For these reasons, they were predisposed to accept that Sherlock Holmes was dead, and they wanted to return to London as soon as possible. As the exceptional Sherlock Holmes, a detective without borders, would say: "Elementary, my dear Watson! It is possible that the missing person is still alive!"
Suddenly, I had a sensational idea, imagining, over and over again, how Sherlock Holmes would have fought against James Moriarty, pushing him over the edge of the abyss, and leaving footprints where he wanted them to be seen. If Sherlock Holmes supposedly won the fight and then climbed somewhere, he may have left some belongings in a way that only I could get them. I watched the scene and thought for a long time, which aroused some suspicions from the officers and aggravated Mrs. Watson's nervous breakdown. Finally, pointing my right hand towards a place near the precipice, I exclaimed:
-There!
-In that bush… In the background...
-It´s drying up!
-It is not normal… There is so much humid soil…
I proceeded to pull the plant out, and it gave away easily, confirming that the bush was not from that site and wasn´t even carefully transplanted. I yelled:
-Eureka!
Just below the roots, which were broken and could not be recovered after being violently uprooted by an undesirable human being, was buried a family photo album.
Mrs. Watson was visibly moved and kissed me on the lips, in front of those present. Showing a better mood and fixing her gaze on that one who seems to be the head of the spy group, she said:
-Finally!
-This is my photo book!
-Thanks to John...
-Do you hear me?
Then, she stared at me and continued talking:
-Only you can understand Sherlock Holmes…
-Before Moriarty arrived, he hid it here…
-Dear John Watson.
-Tell me…
-Where is my diamond?
This last question put me on the spot. The four agents and the guide stared at me steadily. On the one hand, the task of obtaining the photos was easy, even considering that perhaps Sherlock Holmes wanted them to be in the hands of the secret service, outside of England, or in possession of European intelligence agencies, because the main suspects weren´t British and lived in various nations on the European continent. Of course, it was preferable that these governments would deal with these rogues and swindlers, instead of sending agents, all over Europe and Asia. And on the other hand, it was much more difficult to deduce where that diamond was.
Although, I was thinking for a while, without caring about the faces of the others, who were watching me carefully, as if I were the successor of Sherlock Holmes. I re-imagined the fight and now saw the situation from another perspective. Probably, Sherlock Holmes used the diamond as a bait to attract Moriarty, he threw it in the air to see who would catch this jewel, and the professor, facing with a miscalculation while trying to push Sherlock Holmes, slipped, collapsing on the cliff, and the skillful detective managed to capture the diamond in the air, and later fell on his feet, in the ground.
This explains the odd configuration of the footprints, crooked rather than straight, and why those of Moriarty don´t appear on the edge of the abyss. Nonetheless, it was an exceptional challenge to deduce what the detective did with Irene Adler's diamond. I only had two hypotheses: Sherlock Holmes tied the jewel in the braids of one of his shoes, or indeed, as these researchers believed, he fell off the cliff with the diamond in his hand or in a pocket of his jacket.
Knowing that Mrs. Watson didn´t want me to present evidence about Sherlock Holmes' slim chances of survival, I decided to come up with the best option. I stated:
-Sherlock Holmes had the diamond tied in one of his shoes.
-And this can be found anywhere!
-Whether on the shore or at the bottom...
-It is easier to get this gem than the corpse of Sherlock Holmes!
-How long will we continue investigating?
I remember that in the following days the searches for the bodies, as well as for the detective's shoes and the diamond stolen by Sherlock Holmes continued. As dictated by the Holmesian logic and common sense, it wasn´t possible to obtain the corpses or the shoes of the famous detective, neither the jewel longed by Mrs. Watson.
Broadly speaking, the search for the body of Sherlock Holmes and that of his opponent, who had the ulterior motive of recovering the evidence stolen by the famous detective, was a resounding failure, overshadowed only by the timely discovery of the precious album with photos of several criminals, who had ties to the Swindhit and the organization.
Inside me two options were shuffling: either the stubborn Sherlock Holmes died stupidly or escaped masterfully, imitating the style of the magician Harry Houdini. With so many surprises, in recent days, everything was possible, but although I liked the idea that the detective could still be alive, and even hiding for several years from his worst enemies, I could not confirm or prove this assumption, which would be classified as absurd and insane by Scotland Yard and the secret service office. I only knew one person who shared my suspicions about the fake death of Sherlock Holmes, but she didn´t want to divulge this assumption. Of course! I am referring to the dear Mrs. Watson.
One day after the unsuccessful searches, I woke up very early, seeing the date in the newspaper 24 Heures. On that morning, I wrote it down in my notebook: "May 25, 1891, 6:40." While Mrs. Watson was still sleeping in the other bed.
Despite my memory deficiencies, I remember the harsh conversation the night before. Since Mrs. Watson arrived in Switzerland, she had behaved strangely, perhaps due to the calm atmosphere, different from the bustling but comfortable environment of London, and the continuous emotional stresses that were destroying her. She liked to look at me as the great love of her life, bragging about giving me kisses on the mouth and hugging me tightly, in front of other people, without saying that I was her husband, and on the other hand, she refused to have intimate moments with me or sleep in the same bed. In this regard, my wife also told me that agreeing to have great moments of pleasure, under these circumstances, would trigger an unwanted pregnancy and future problems that would warrant our definitive separation.
That time, the cunning Mrs. Watson said to me:
-We have too many problems!
-We can´t go back to London together!
-Yesterday, almost the entire Swindhit family and other criminals, identified in the photos, were arrested.
-But, the two Australian husbands and their spouses fled...
-They also tried to set fire to our house…
-And to the residence that belonged to Sherlock Holmes or your new apartment...
Mrs. Watson noticed my worried face and continued speaking:
-Don´t worry!
-Scotland Yard is protecting both places.
-Do you hear me?
-Dead or alive, Sherlock Holmes causes too much troubles!
-It is not convenient that we continue together!
-And don´t worry about me...
-I must go underground for a while!
-You can continue working in your office...
-Her Majesty has given orders to guard you until the end of your life.
-She doesn´t want you to have the same fate of Sherlock Holmes!
-You must stop investigating!
-Leave that to the authorities!
-Sherlock Holmes went down in history!
-I repeat… You can continue working in your office!
-In a few months, we will finish with the Swindhit gang, including its partners in Europe and other distant countries.
-I have several trips around the world left, just as Sherlock Holmes dreamed...
-But… You must disappear from the map of criminals!
-Come back to London as a normal citizen, and you can tell your friends that we are breaking up…
Despite my immense emotional pain, and feeling betrayed by Mrs. Watson, who was probably used to turning her back on her closest loved ones, in the interest of fulfilling her ambitious career goals, I asked several questions:
-What will happen to the sons of the Swindhit?
-Was Irene Adler captured?
-Did you know about my mental illness?
Patiently, although with an air of disappointment, she replied that the children would be given to other families in the United Kingdom, far from the capital city, and would have new identities. Mrs. Watson also expressed:
-Nope!
-Do you hear me?
-As you might suspect, the theft of the diamond foiled our plans to detain Irene Adler.
-And I always knew about your illness...
-Your friend Sherlock Holmes was very indiscreet and he explained it to me once. It´s also obvious that you suffer from a rare memory loss, which is confirmed from the messages on those papers, in the right pocket of your jacket… I read many of them, during some nights...
-While you pretended to be sleeping and I was reading Shakespeare's novels, at some point, I stopped… Turned around… Searched your jacket… And not only for curiosity… Of course! I read those interesting notes...
-I tell you something…
-Those messages were not only for you…
-They were for both!
-There are keys that you didn´t decipher...
-Even with the type of suggested gift, I knew which additional guests I needed to photograph.
-Do you hear me?
-How clever was Sherlock Holmes!
-I don´t know if you remember a note before you went on this trip. There the detective wrote at the end: "Frozen falls."
-From there, assuming that this phrase refers to a European nation, with a cold climate and immense waterfalls, I deduced that you were going to Switzerland.
-And knowing Sherlock Holmes' stinginess and penchant for spending less and saving more, I also inferred that you would stay at the cheapest hotel near the Reichenbach Falls.
-Also, Mr. Emnhil Graham, who works for the Swiss government, confirmed your arrival to the secret service office.
-Without this help and Scotland Yard's refusal to give us your location, it would have cost us a lot of time and great efforts to reach this hotel, and complete part of the mission…
-But… Your crazy friend took the evidence I need to capture Irene Adler. Was he protecting her? Or was he trying to catch her himself? I still don´t know…
-Also that damned woman, enemy of the British Crown and all the kings of Europe, knows a secret that made Sherlock Holmes tremble, and if it is revealed, wherever the detective's corpse is, it will wallow in...
-Sherlock Holmes preferred to die before the secret was revealed!
-I hope you understand…
-I can´t go on with you!
-Not this way!
-When I finish this job, I can return to London, but we must evaluate our relationship...
I wanted to cry. Nonetheless, she hugged me, giving me a hard kiss on the mouth, and sighed: "Wait for a better time, we will be back." In certain way, I understood her approach. By mutual agreement we had to separate for a long time, and we could not be together until our safety was guaranteed. If I was seen in London with my wife, our lives and reputations would be in serious jeopardy.
However, as I explained previously, the events don´t always happen as expected, and since life is a wonderful and at the same time a terrible box of unimaginable surprises, that day, September 25, wasn´t my last day in that hotel. In a few moments, we received a gift and an unexpected visit...