Holmes POV: the Infamous Dock Scene

by Lesley Johnson
a.k.a. 'the politician, the lighthouse and the trained cormorant'

"You're not."

I had thrown off my coat and boots in preparation for diving into the river, yet Russell continued to insist on making the pursuit with me. I could see the boat begin to turn as it came free of its mooring. All would be lost if I did not immediately set off after it, but Russell would not stop and wait. I was quite certain she had not recovered sufficient strength to swim any distance -- her momentary loss of balance as she bent to remove her boots confirmed this -- yet I knew if I jumped she would follow.

I took the only course that would allow me both to ensure her safety and to prevent the escape of Franklin: while she still stooped over her bootlace I knocked Russell on the head.

I eased her senseless form down onto the boards of the dock, then turned and dived into the Thames. I calculated the trajectory of the slowly accelerating boat and managed to reach it. A dangling rope and a scupper hole gave me a climbing hold up the side. Spying into the cabin I ascertained there was no crew with Franklin. He walked astern to throw off the aft rope without seeing me. I scrambled over the gunwale to tackle him, but I was too slow -- he had the gun in his hand before I could reach him. We grappled, each trying to turn the gun against the other, while the boat turned slow circles in the current. I began to gain an advantage, forcing his hand down, but he fired a shot and then another. His third shot went through the deck and ignited the machinery just as the careering launch collided with a barge.

We were both thrown off our feet with the sudden jolt. I was back up before Franklin, but he levelled the gun at me and would have got a good shot except that the wooden deck suddenly raised up under him and threw him sideways. It seemed as if I had a moment to puzzle over this, however in the next instant a wall of flame blasted me over the side and under the water.

When I surfaced I was just outside a spreading pool of burning oil. I saw a glimpse of Franklin's charred body hanging lifeless over the broken transom. It was enough. I dove to comparative safety under water and made my way back towards the dock.

From twenty yards off I could see Russell standing at the very end of the pier intently watching the boat. It appeared she had sustained no serious damage from my actions, but as I swam on I saw her suddenly collapse onto a rope coil. Perhaps the blow had been more forceful than I thought. Clearly I would have some explaining to do: I did not relish the prospect of defending my decision to her. I swam slowly on and arrived at the feet of the wooden pilings. There was nothing to pull myself up with. I would have to ask for help. Perhaps a little humour would ease the situation.

"Give us an 'and, laidee."

Russell looked down at me with a somewhat stunned look on her face, as if I was the last person in the world she expected to see sloshing around in the water under the dock. I was beginning to feel rather cold and was thankful that, without taking the opportunity to berate me, she stretched down her arm and hauled me up with that surprising strength of hers. I had hardly regained my feet when she threw her arms around me and pressed her mouth to mine. The sensation was indescribable -- a rush of intense pleasure as I felt her warmth against me, the sweetness of her mouth, the soaring of my heart as I knew for certain that she was entirely mine -- and then she pulled away and hit me hard across the jaw. I was dumbfounded.

"Never, never do that again!"

What did she mean? Had I -- ? No, granted I was off-balance, and possibly slightly concussed, but I was sure I hadn't initiated --

"Russell! I did not --"

"Knock me out and leave me behind -- Holmes, how could you?"

We argued for a time about the merits of my decision, but my mind (and heart) could not be diverted from the truth revealed in her impulsive expression of feeling. I was anxious to make clear to her my own wishes, yet I was hardly in a fit state to do so. This was not how I had imagined (long imagined, I will admit) the culmination of our partnership. But I was certain I must respond before the moment was lost.

All I had at hand was a sodden pocket-handkerchief -- it would have to do. I removed what oil, filth and debris that I could, then took her in my arms (at last!) and kissed her (oh, how she surrendered herself to me!) and held her, while the entire universe whirled around the central position we occupied.

"By god, I've wanted to do that since the moment I laid eyes upon you!" I confessed fervently, no longer suppressing the joy she inspired in me.

"Holmes," she breathed into my ear, "when you first saw me, you thought I was a boy."

I smiled at the recollection of that April day six years ago. Yes, perhaps, strictly speaking, it had been some moments after I had first laid eyes upon her. It was when she had removed her cap and suddenly the tall, moody adolescent boy I thought I had been talking with transformed into the loveliest young woman I had ever seen. She would always have that advantage over me.

"And don't think that didn't cause me some minutes of deep consternation." I looked into her eyes to enjoy the momentary confusion registered there.

We concluded the negotiations of the terms of our new alliance, then sat down on the dock to put our boots back on. The constable we had passed earlier reappeared with more of his fellows, closely followed by Russell's driver, Q. I explained the situation regarding Franklin to the police and they went off on their usual business of officially mopping up at the end of a case.

Q was holding my coat and I stood up to take it from his hand, but suddenly the dock boards rushed up and hit me in the face. It took me a moment to realize that it was I who had fallen. Russell kneeled at my side. "Holmes, just sit up slowly. I think we had better get you to a doctor. Q, where is the car?"

"Just at the end of the lane, Miss. If I may offer assistance, sir. . ." Q helped me onto my feet again, and he and Russell supported me as we made our way to the car. I was vaguely aware of Russell signalling to a small group of figures standing some little distance away on the pavement. I straightened and managed to give Billy and the other boys a reassuring victory salute. Then an involuntary shivering seized me, a reaction to the struggle with Franklin, the explosion and the frigid waters of the Thames in February. Q produced a warm, thick travelling rug and, once we were installed in the rear seat of the car, a welcome flask of brandy. As we drove, the shivering subsided into an occasional spasm and I began to feel sleepy. I would just close my eyes for a moment. . .

"Holmes! Holmes don't give in, stay awake!" Russell spoke sternly, holding my head between her hands and staring into my eyes. "Holmes talk to me. Stay awake!"

I made an effort to focus on her and the blackness around my vision cleared somewhat. "Uh, where are we going then?" I asked.

"To a doctor, Holmes. We'll get you to a doctor in just a few minutes."

I smiled. "No Russell, I'm not senseless. I meant where are we going today? To your flat, to a bolt hole, to Sussex, or some other place?"

"Oh, sorry. I don't know. Probably to my flat. It depends how you are, Holmes. You've got a pretty nasty looking burn on the back of your head."

"Have I?" I pulled a hand out of the rug and felt it. "I wish you hadn't told me that Russell, it's starting to hurt now. I must look a sight."

"You look fine for a man who has just been blown up in an explosion and nearly drowned in the Thames." She gazed into my eyes, seeming not at all concerned. "Shall all our days together be this exciting Holmes?"

"Just as exciting, Russ, but with fewer explosions." Trusting to Q's discretion, I pulled her close to me and kissed her again.

After the business with the doctor, which involved dressings, bandages and inoculations, we returned to Russell's flat. With minimal assistance from Q I managed to remove the shredded and scorched remains of my clothing, bathe and change into clean clothes. By the use of two mirrors I noted the damage to the back of my head.

Russell too had put on fresh clothes, and was pouring hot tea when I joined her in the sitting room. She sat on the couch; I took a place beside her. After a few moments an idea went through my mind and I began to chuckle. She looked at me as if she had some concern for my sanity.

"What is it, Holmes?"

"It just occurred to me that there may be some allusion to the story of Samson in today's adventure. . . but not an exact one."

"No, and I should hope you don't view forming an alliance with me as somehow diminishing your strength, Holmes."

"Entirely the opposite, Russell, I assure you. Come here, my girl." She moved in under my arm and leant against me, resting her head on my shoulder. Despite the burning at the back of my head, the painful throbbing of the hand I had in fact broken when I knocked her out, and the general shock to my system when I, at long last, determined to put my bachelor days behind me, I experienced a most pleasurable sense of comfort and contentment. As it happened, we both fell asleep where we were, awoke in the wee small hours and sheepishly retired to separate bedrooms for the remainder of the night.