Private Detective Sherlock Holmes and his assistant and only friend Doctor Watson have been solving crime for years for Inspector Lestrade to try and stop Professor Moriarty who is the puppet master of all crime in London.
However, lately Watson has found himself to be a target of the criminal underworld for no good reason. This story takes place as this mystery comes to a close. Watson goes for a lunchtime walk to get some air from his shared flat which Holmes has not been seen in since late the night before.
Title: Checkmate, My Dear Holmes
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| Original Picture Source |
I found myself clutching my bleeding shoulder as I tried to keep conscious behind the bins of the local Fish and Chip store.
They'd been following me for weeks, and finally, they’d got me. I remember thinking that if I wasted much more time wincing and clenching my teeth while trying to keep myself from losing more blood, they would come back and finish the job properly.
I poked my head out like a frightened dog, decided the coast was clear enough to make a break for it, and then went for it.
I kept my head low as I bolted for the wooden door of a factory across the driveway, expecting more bullets to come whizzing past my head, maybe even hitting me.
Yet none came.
I breathed a heavy, but broken, sigh of relief as the door gave way and the blanket of darkness inside surrounded me, keeping me safe from the horrors outside.
I don't have much time to write, so I'll keep this brief. I found that I had stumbled upon a major location in the crime circuit. I was extremely lucky that I had walked into a deserted part of the building, as it was obvious that there was a meeting going on near the Southern end. I took some photos on my phone as evidence as I headed towards the source of the discussion going on.
I wasn’t intending to stay for long but my ears pricked up when I heard a hushed whisper:
“Is Mr. Moriarty’s vehicle ready?”
“Yes, it’s up by the entrance, now come, we mustn’t be any later than we already are…”
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| Original Picture Source |
I stalked them until I reached an office that guarded a big clearing. Nearly 50 people were gathered around a man standing in a black trenchcoat giving very strict orders.
But I couldn’t pay attention to his words.
It was his voice that struck me, and his face.
It was Sherlock.
The men were all addressing him as ‘Moriarty’, and they were making plans as to how the group would kidnap a rich family’s daughter then ‘Sherlock’ would find her for a reward.
This confirmed my theory that I had been building up throughout the last several months about Sherlock, if that is his real name.
I’d never actually seen Moriarty in person, only heard what Sherlock had said about him. I also managed to hack into Sherlock’s accounts and found he was not only taking rewards for solved crimes (which he had refused in front of me), but larger sums were coming in from all over the world.
Sherlock Holmes was Professor Moriarty. It was all a scam for money.
It’s always about money.
Before I could stop myself I found myself hiding in the trunk of the car that ‘Moriarty’ soon left the factory in.
A few hours later the car came to a halt in what I guessed was a heavily wooded area. I would’ve gone out to investigate, but the risk of getting caught was far too high.
Again I must skip part of the story, as time is short.
I stayed put inside the trunk for a very long time, so long that I fell asleep. When I awoke the car was on the move again and the temperature had severely dropped.
I snuggled down in my coat and started wondering where we could possibly be heading now. However, sleep soon pulled me back under.
The next thing I knew was the massive bang as the trunk cover blew open.
The cold morning air seized me and held me frozen where I was.
A tall figure reached in with both hands, plucked me away from the darkness and cast me onto the road. My hands weren’t quick enough to keep my face from slamming into the road surface.
“Well, well Watson, it seems my game is up.”
Spitting blood, I struggled to gather myself and look up at the man I thought I had known for so long. As I raised my head I saw we were on a deserted bridge over the Thames. I turned to my attacker.
“You… Wh—who are you?”
“I know you’re not as much of an idiot as the rest of them Watson, I know you have me figured out.”
My heavy breathing caused mist to fire from my mouth in bursts as if from an agitated dragon. I was.... I was.... furious.
“Why did you lie to me? I thought I was your friend! Is it… Is it really all just for money?”
My voice trailed off at the end as hot tears started streaming down my face, I couldn’t help it, I felt cheated.
“Everything’s about money Watson, and I needed you with me to make it all genuine. Ingenious isn’t it? I organize the crime, harvest the profit, then ‘find’ a culprit and reap the rewards. Plus profit from the publicity.”
“You bastard!” I spat, causing blood to dot his trenchcoat, and with that I flew at him, fists at the ready. I grabbed him by the collar and hauled him towards the railings.
“If anything happens to me you’re a dead man Watson, you hear?! A dead man!”
“I don’t care! At least I will be doing some good in the world, which is more that can be said about you!”
And with that I broke free of the feeble grip he had on my wrists, grabbed him by the hair and threw him down hard onto the top rail. He fell heavily onto the path, dazed, but still able to reach into his trenchcoat to pull out his pistol.
Being a military man I stole it off him with ease, taking the time to break both his arms in the process.
The once proud man I had known started sobbing, knowing he was moments away from the end. But no-one was anywhere in sight or earshot to question the situation, or even help.
Breathing heavily as the adrenaline pulsed through my veins, I hoisted him over the top railings and let him drop over the side.
His broken face silently stared up at me in shock before he disappeared into the freezing river.
Rushing across to the other barrier I quickly loaded the gun and fired two shots at his head. The blood soon surrounded his now still body as it floated down the Thames.
“I’m not falling for that one again.”
Now I must go, there are people after me, and with everything I know being turned upside down, I can’t trust anyone anymore.
Word Count: 1093
Planning:
Holmes then tries to push Watson off the bridge,
saying he doesn’t want his ‘good life’ to end. But Watson, having been a
soldier is slightly stronger and at the last minute breaks free of his grip and
shoots him in the chest. Stunned, Holmes falls off and into the Thames. Watson
hurries over to the other side to fire the lethal bullet (“I’m not falling for
that one again,”).
Sherlock Holmes is Moriarty, it’s a ruse set up between
Mycroft (Sherlock’s older brother) and himself to gain money through both
criminal activity and publicity with rewards.
Watson has suspected this for some time. He approached
Mycroft about it and was laughed out of the building.
He’s been subject to random assassination attempts
throughout the last few weeks, and Holmes has been increasingly distant from
him.
Watson happens to hide in a factory where ‘Moriarty’ is
actively giving orders after a final attempt on his life; he hides in the car
which Moriarty will soon leave in.
The car leaves with both Holmes and Watson in it, it comes
to stop somewhere where Watson doesn’t feel comfortable exiting. He waits.
Hours pass (night falls) and eventually Holmes drives away
again, this time it stops in the heart of London on a bridge. This confuses
Watson. While he is distracted Holmes pulls him from the back of the car
suddenly, claiming he’s known that he’s been there the whole time.
They argue on the bridge and Watson confronts Holmes about
his career and fraud life, which Holmes doesn’t deny it and is silent saying
that he is amazed that Watson found out about it because he thought he’d
covered his tracks so well.
