146 comments/ 98033 views/ 21 favorites A Study in Scarlet: Epilog By: Blue88 (There is no sex in this conclusion.) ******************** John Watson sat quietly, an untouched cup of coffee before him, gazing out the kitchen window at the gently swaying limbs and leaves of the aspen. He again glanced at the calendar on the wall, recognizing that it was exactly one year since the final divorce decree had been granted and the pain in his eyes was apparent. John looked inside himself, asking again if he had done the right thing; had he made an error, had he acted too precipitously, could he have at least tried to save his marriage? He should his head wearily, he knew that he would again come to the same conclusion. He had little choice. Every time he began to have doubts about the divorce, all he had to do is recall the scene in that lounge, the scene of Esther and her paramour and he knew that his marriage was over. He had told her that it would be easier for him to live with regret than with suspicion, but that was such an oversimplification. Neither choice was 'easy.' Suspicion would have eventually destroyed him, but regret was turning him into a cold, bitter, terribly unhappy man. He was between the proverbial rock and a hard place - screwed regardless of choice. That's the true tragedy of it all - if he hadn't loved Esther as deeply as he did, the divorce would not have been as devastating. Perhaps he didn't love her enough to fight for their marriage, perhaps he was a coward for walking away, or was it that he loved her too much and that was why he could forgive but couldn't forget. John couldn't fool himself; he loved Esther - would probably always love her. He just couldn't forget her betrayal. Consequently, John went through the motions of life; going to work, performing competently, coming home, dining and then sleep. Blessed, comforting sleep when unconsciousness blanketed the sorrow that was his constant companion. Many times, after a meager dinner, he would leave the house and walk. He would walk, aimlessly, unaware of direction, oblivious of his surroundings. This became a pattern for his existence, a routine that he embraced, the very repetitiveness of his days allowing him to focus on that routine, a hollow method of forgetting...of sublimating his unhappiness. Friends called, but conversations with them were brief. The calls soon tapered off... a relief, not having to make excuse after excuse, refusing invitations. Irene called, Woody called. He spoke with them on the phone, but again, made excuses, pleaded with them, told them he needed time alone. They understood, at least they finally backed off, giving him time to himself, time to heal. Heal? Could his psyche ever really heal, could psychological scar tissue form to cover the raw wound in his heart, allowing him to find peace? John was startled out of his musings by the repeated ringing of the front door bell. The ringing was constant, unceasing, forcing him to stride rapidly through the house to the door, angry at the rude interruption. He pulled the door open, prepared to confront the intruder then paused, a weak smile on his lips. "Irene...damn it, lay off the damn doorbell. My head is pounding as it is." Irene Holmes, nee Adler, brushed by him and strode into the living room where she turned and put her hands on her hips. Her eyes were blazing and her anger was evident in her words. "Enough of this shit, John. You've been hibernating, feeling sorry for yourself long enough," she spat. "Someone has to put a poker up your ass and get you to start jump your life. No, No," she put up a hand, stopping John from retorting angrily. "I don't want to hear it, John. We love you, you idiot. That's why I'm here. Enough with the phone calls, enough with the excuses. We gave you time, shit, enough time to bury yourself, but enough is enough. Wake up, John. Wake up, life is passing you by." Irene paused, pity and sorrow for her dear friend apparent in her gaze, her voice now soft and pleading. "John, it's been a year since the divorce. You've got to get on with living. You can't keep shutting yourself away forever. Please, John. Try to understand what I'm telling you." The first flush of anger felt by John had passed. He turned wearily and sank into his easy chair. He motioned to another chair and smiled wryly as Irene sat, cautious now, concerned about what his reaction would be. "Irene...Renee," he began haltingly. "I know...I know...you're right. My mind accepts what you're saying. It's hard, Renee... It's damned hard. I never thought it would be this hard. I need time...I just need time," he whispered. "Bullshit, John," Irene retorted, but quietly this time. "That's bullshit and you know it. The only way that you're going to be able to get over the split with Esther is for you to reenter the human race." She saw John flinch, but continued. "Johnny, please. Just come for dinner, that's all. All I'm asking now is that you come for dinner. It's Saturday, John. I know that you don't have any plans. Come for dinner this evening," she pleaded. John sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Okay, Renee...okay. I'll come for dinner, but why you would want me there is beyond my comprehension. I'm really not very good company." Irene perked up, now smiling. "Don't worry about that. You know that Woody and are both yakkers, we'll keep the conversation flowing. All you have to do is just sit there, smile and nod your head occasionally. Be there around 5, John. We'll have time to get reacquainted before we eat," she added factiously. ******************** Despite John's reservations, he enjoyed himself that evening and, for awhile, was able to put his sorrow aside and immerse himself in the company of caring and loving friends. He was able to chat with them and even laugh at their attempts at humor. He was able to gaze at Irene's antics and smile, knowing that she had pulled out all the stops. Her impersonations of other members of the faculty at the university were spot on and they elicited laughs from both John and Woody. Irene was the assistant chair of the Drama and Performing Arts department and her talent was evident. John had glanced at Woody at times and Woody had winked and smiled indulgently. They both knew what Irene was doing - she was bending over backwards trying to get John to climb out of the hole he had dug, an abyss into which he could sink and forget the pain. John was no fool, he knew that his behavior was self destructive, and he found that he now welcomed Irene's attempt to pull him up out of the pit of despair. He again looked at his friend, a person he had known for decades, a person he could trust with his life. "Okay, okay, Renee," he finally was able to interrupt her interpretation of the strange walk/hop of the Dean of Academic Affairs. "Knock it off or I'll pee in my pants," John chuckled. "You're right, I know you're right. You've made your point, Renee, you win." Irene and Woody looked at him expectantly. Irene also had a hopeful look in her eyes. John chuckled again. "Renee, Woody, you're both right. I've been thinking all evening. I did need time, but I'm carrying this time thing too far. I can't hide forever. I hurt, but I also know that I'll live, I'll get over it. Thanks to you, I think I can start climbing out of my den of self pity. Jeez, Renee, you really beat yourself up entertaining us tonight," John chuckled again. Woody looked at his friend affectionately. "I'm glad, John. I'm glad that you've come to that conclusion, albeit with a push from Renee. Just remember, if you need us, we'll be there. Never forget that, John." ******************** That evening at the Holmes' was the kick in the ass that finally got John Watson moving again. Oh, there was no dramatic difference, he still tended to be a bit quiet, a bit withdrawn, but hours spent in lonely introspection lessened and he did seem to be in a better humor when dealing with others. Weeks turned into months and the sharp, agonizing pain he had been living with dulled into an ache that had moved deep inside. He likened it to losing a limb; the pain had lessened, the wound had formed scar tissue, but he was always aware that an important part of himself was missing. John was learning to live with the pain, recognizing that it would always be there, buried deep inside of him. His personality had changed a bit also. He was a more quiet, more gentle man. Where before he had been impatient with the incompetence or inconsideration of others, he now was more tolerant, more forgiving. At least he had broken out of the wall that he had erected. He attended more school social functions, had dinner out with friends and, yes, even dated occasionally although never more than once with the same woman. The split with his wife did indeed change him, and in ways that even he didn't realize. ******************** John was at his desk one late afternoon when he looked up and saw Irene standing in the doorway. "Julia's not at her desk, so I barged in," she smiled at him. "Always good to see you, Renee. Just a social visit?" he queried "Yeah, I was walking by your building and thought I'd drop in to see how you were doing. I'm through for the day and wondered if you could tear yourself away for a cup of coffee. C'mon, Johnny, keep me company." John chuckled, "Okay, Irene. I'll leave a note for Julia. She's running an errand for me." Minutes later they were strolling out headed for the coffee shop on the campus. Fortunately, it wasn't crowded and they were able to get a table to themselves, ordered coffee and decided to split a pastry. Irene sat quietly, then taking a sip of her coffee, glanced across at John and quietly said, "You do know that Esther had moved?" She grimaced as she saw John flinch. She knew that mentioning his ex-wife would not be pleasant for her friend, but she had a purpose. "She moved to Atlanta, John." John sat quietly for a few moments, then sighed and forced a small smile to his lips. "I didn't know that, Renee. When did that happen?" Irene didn't notice that the smile never reached his eyes. Irene didn't answer immediately, then biting her lip, replied. "Almost a year ago. She resigned her position with her firm and moved. It seems that she's now working for an advocacy group that provides legal aid for the poor. You know, fighting eviction notices, legal aid for abused women, child support claims, that kind of stuff. From what I understand, funding for the group comes from donations, various grants as well as support from the local bar association. There are three lawyers there and a bunch of social workers. She's happy, John. She feels that she's doing something truly worthwhile, not just climbing a corporate ladder." John sat quietly, seemingly lost in thought. He then focused again on Irene and asked, "How do you know this, Irene? Are you staying in touch with Essi....with Esther?" "Of course, John. That's a silly question. Esther is a dear friend. We talk at least once a week." Irene hesitated a moment then continued. "She doesn't date, John. She hasn't dated anyone since you two divorced. I just thought that you should know that," concluded Irene. Irene grimaced again when she saw his eyes turn cold. "Enough, Irene. Don't meddle, I won't put up with that. Don't try to become a match maker." John paused a moment, then continued. "Irene, don't presume on our friendship. Accept that I just am not interested in what she's doing." John then stood abruptly, turned and left, leaving Irene sitting there with her mouth agape. She shook her head slowly and then muttered, "shit." Irene stood and walked slowly out of the shop. Taking her cell phone she quickly punched in a familiar number. "Woody? I screwed up.....maybe badly," and she proceeded to tell her husband the details of her conversation with John. "Damn it, Renee. You should have known better," Woody sighed with more than a bit of exasperation. "We discussed this...I told you to leave it alone. He's not ready to move off dead center yet. You know him, Irene. I just hope that he's not too pissed at you." Irene paused, worried that he may be right. "I don't think so, Woody. He'll be angry for awhile, but he'll get over it. We've been friends for too long. John doesn't hold a grudge, he's knows that I just want what's best for him." "Damn it, Irene. It's that kind of thinking that got you in trouble with him just now. It's not your responsibility to decide what's best for him. That's something for him to decide. Jeez,, Renee. Stay out of his personal life right now or you'll regret it. You can't push him too far," her husband warned her. Irene sighed, know ing that Woody was right. "Okay, okay, I've learned my lesson. I'll back off, but I'm going to make sure that he doesn't retreat into that hole again. I'll give him a few days to cool off, and then I'll invite him to dinner. He'll come, Woody. You'll see." ******************** John did "cool off" and Irene and Woody were relieved that their friend seemed to have forgotten Irene's little interference. John came to dinner on a frequent basis, but his friends never did bring up the subject of his ex-wife. Many times Irene was tempted, but a warning glance from Woody kept her tongue still. She really didn't need that glance; she knew that John was not ready for any discussion about Esther, and it pained her to also recognize that he may never be ready. Time passed and John Watson had rejoined the human race. He became as social as he ever was, but again, dating was not high on his list of priorities. He now enjoyed the company of a rather varied group of women, but they were always aware that he wasn't available for anything but pleasant, casual companionship. John wasn't lacking in sexual companionship as well, but again with that caveat. Strangely, John never ceased his solitary walks after a late dinner. He never consciously chose his route, letting the direction happen haphazardly. He enjoyed these walks. It kept him in fairly decent shape and tired him so that he was able to sleep. He never really took note of where he was, and when he started to slow, he would then retrace his steps and head for home. It was in the late fall, during one of his walks, that he realized that he had actually strolled not far from his old neighborhood, the neighborhood in which he had been born and raised; the neighborhood of the gangs of which he had once been a member. The familiar surroundings brought a slight smile to his lips. He realized that it had been years since he had visited this part of the city, especially since his mother and step-father had moved south many years ago. He was startled out of his reverie as he was suddenly yanked into the mouth of an alley and a voice hissed into his ear. "Give me your wallet, muthefucker, or I'll slit you like a fish." John turned slowly, raising his hands. "Okay, easy now. Let me get my wallet, okay?" he replied quietly, looking at his assailant who seemed to be of average height, thin and wiry, and brandishing a lethal looking blade. John frowned as he saw how young this punk was - no more than 17 or 18. "Quick, don't fuck with me. Get it now," Seconds later the punk was on the ground, groaning and holding an arm that was probably broken. John stood over him, shaking his head in disgust, muttering, "dumb schmuck." "FREEZE. POLICE" The voice was authoritative, loud and female. "Put your hands on the back of your head - slowly. NOW! "Now back up, slowly, move toward my voice - slowly. Stop," the voice commanded. John felt a hand grab his and pull it down and around to the small of his back. The naked feel of metal encircled his wrist and the same maneuver was repeated with his other hand. Now restrained by the handcuffs, the voice ordered him to turn around. John blinked in surprise as he found himself looking at a woman, dressed in a dark skirt, white blouse and a light gray jacket. She appeared to be around 35 or so, auburn air and nicely built and very attractive. She was holding up a badge. "I'm a lieutenant of detectives in this precinct and was walking by. Now, how about telling me what happened and why that ball of slime is lying there." John blinked again, then regaining his wits, related the events of the last few moments. He noticed the woman peering at him closely. "Do you have any ID on you?" she asked. When John nodded, she moved behind him and extracted a wallet from his rear pocket. After a few moments he heard her chuckle softly, "I'll be damned..." Moving back to face him, she peered intently at his face. A crooked grin crossed her face as she said, "Johnny Watson, it really is you. Don't remember me, do you. Well, after all, it's been...what?... 25 or 30 years? Wait, let me take those cuffs off." John breathed a sigh of relief as he was freed, but was truly puzzled. Who was this woman, this city detective who seemed to know him? He rubbed his wrists and again looked at her closely. Shaking his head, he finally said, "You seem to have me at an disadvantage, ma'am. I just don't recognize you." She laughed softly. "I don't imagine you should, Johnny. It has been a long time." She paused, smiling mischievously. "Patty, John. Patty O'Hara, Tim's kid sister." She now laughed aloud at his astonished expression and before he could reply, she held up a hand. "Let me get this mess cleaned up, Johnny, and then we can talk." She then proceeded to call in the incident and before long an ambulance and squad car had arrived. Patty, taking charge, filed a brief, preliminary report and the perp was carted off. Approximately 30 minutes or so later, they were alone and John was bursting with questions. Patty now took his arm and led him down the block to an old fashioned saloon which looked like it had been there for ages. Passing the bar, Patty turned to the bartender and who John later discovered was also the owner. "Sammy, bring us a pot of coffee, ok?" Seeing him nod, she steered John to a corner booth. Sitting across from him she smiled again. "Okay, Johnny. Let's talk. Jeepers, it has been a long time." "Jeepers? Jeepers?" John exclaimed, his amusement evident "Patty, you haven't changed one bit. Wait, I take that back. Boy, have you changed. You're lovely. You've turned into a beautiful woman," he exclaimed. "Wait, wait a minute. You have to be what...damn, you're around 42? I can't believe it...you don't look anywhere near your age." Patty, her eyes sparkling, laughed softly. "Damn, can't lie about my age with someone who knew me back when." John sat back, a look of genuine puzzlement on his face. "Patty, you're a cop, a detective? When did all of this happen? Tim... jeez, I forgot. Your brother...how is Tim. Damn, I haven't seen him since we were kids." He noticed her eyes cloud up and paused. Patty put up a hand to stop his barrage of questions. "Wait, Johnny...too much...too soon. I'll fill you in, just take it easy." She sat for a moment, then sighed and continued. "First of all...Tim is dead, Johnny. He died almost 25 years ago, during a hold-up. He and two of his "friends" tried holding up a jewelry store. The owner pulled a gun and fatally shot Tim and wounded the other two, one seriously. It almost killed my folks. They've never been the same and now they're both gone." John reached across the table and touched her hand. "Damn, I'm sorry, Patty. I thought that he would get out of the gang scene also, I should have known better. He was pretty pissed at me when I quit - called me a traitor." Patty smiled softly. "You were the smart one, John. You were the one that escaped. You know, you're one reason why I studied my ass off and got into college. I saw that the road out was schooling. If I wanted to move up I would need as much education as I could get." "I didn't know that I had become a role model," John admitted, "but I'm proud that I was. I'm really happy that you took that road, but you said that was "one" reason. What was the other?" A Study in Scarlet: Epilog Patty sighed and settled back. "Tim, of course. Because of Tim I wanted to major in criminology. I thought I would be able to help save all of the young hoods." She smiled ruefully, "Don't forget, I was young and idealistic. I got a job with the city police department after I graduated and worked my way up to my present position." Patty smirked, "Not bad for a kid from the neighborhood, Johnny. We did hear about you now and then. Last I heard you were teaching at Penn, Ivy League no less, right?" John shrugged, dismissively. "Right, Pat. I'm still at the university. I'm a little shell shocked though. I can't get over this - little Patricia O'Hara, a lieutenant of detectives with the city police. Wow, that's impressive." Patty smiled with a bit of pride. "Right, Johnny. I agree with you, it is impressive," she laughed. "I've gone back to school, working on my doctorate in Clinical Psychology. I got my Master's about 10 years ago and decided recently to pursue a Ph.D. Now you should be impressed," and she laughed again. John just sat there, stunned, shaking his head. "You mean I could have seen you on campus? Good Lord, I could have even passed you and not have known." "Oh, no, Johnny. I couldn't afford an ivy league school. Temple university on Broad St. is good enough. I get an excellent education there without the huge cost. It doesn't have the prestige, but who needs that," Patty replied. She looked at her watch and frowned regretfully. "I have to go now, John. It really has been nice seeing you again and chatting, but I really do have to go." "Patty, can I see you again? I'd love to catch up with what else has been happening. Can I give you a call?" John asked. "Sure, Johnny. I'd like that. Here's my card - let me write my home number on the back. Give me a call when you can." She scribbled her number, smiled, clasped John's hand and strode from the bar. John sat there for a few moments. Then, smiling, he rose and headed for home. He had quite a bit to think over. ******************** A few hundred miles to the south, Esther Watson sat at her desk, working on a brief that was due the next day. It was difficult for her to concentrate. The roof was leaking again and the landlord was finding all kinds of excuses why he couldn't get someone there right away. Her foot had caught on the torn linoleum again coming into the office and now she had a tender ankle. "Damn," she thought to herself. "What a shit hole, but that's what you get when you work with the underprivileged." She knew that she had gone into this with her eyes open, but she still chafed at how difficult it was to get funding for legal services for the poor. Her thoughts were interrupted when her friend, one of the social workers, came in and collapsed in the chair in front of Esther's battered desk. "Esther, I can't get Marsha to press charges against that asshole. She keeps saying that he's her husband and she doesn't want him to go to jail. Damn, she's stubborn as hell about that," exclaimed Rita Bates. Esther Watson smiled at her friend. "Rita, we can do only what we're allowed. If Marsha doesn't want to help herself, then so be it. One day she's going to realize that she's in a dead end relationship and perhaps then we can help her. Don't get discouraged. We move on to those who will accept our help." "Yeah, I know you're right, Es. It's just so hard. Poverty has got to be one of the most horrible conditions one could imagine, and so few are trying to deal with the situation. Look at us, it's like we're trying to bail out a boat that's sinking with tea cups. Shit. "Anyway," Rita continued, changing the subject. "It's Friday, Es. Another weekend spent in that dumpy apartment? Why don't you ever want to go out with us and let go. I really don't think it's healthy the way you shut yourself up. C'mon, Es," Rita wheedled. "Join us tonight. We're going to Johnny's, they have a great band. We can get a little drunk and maybe get lucky," and she smiled with a theatrical leer on her face. Rita Bates didn't see the flash of pain on Esther's face when she mentioned the name of the club. It was gone in an instant. "Rita," she chided. "That's not for me. I have no interest in getting drunk and no interest in "getting lucky" as you so delicately put it. Get out of here now and let me finish this damned thing before the day is over," and she leaned over and patted her friends hand, taking some of the sting from her words. Rita shrugged, "Okay, honey, but I won't quit trying. One day I'm going to get you to let down your hair. You're a gorgeous gal, you need a man," she shot back as she left for the day. Esther sat quietly for a moment, thinking to herself. "Yeah, I do need a man, but I screwed that up and lost the only man I ever really wanted. But maybe Rita's right. Maybe I do need to get out, let down my hair." Her eyes then narrowed as her thoughts went back in time. "Oh, no. Oh, no, that's one thing that I don't want. Letting down my hair caused me to lose what I should have valued more." She shook her head to rid herself of regrets and bent over her work. As Esther was finishing up for the day, she saw Bill Sagan slouch into the room. The office was divided into three distinct areas, each one occupied by an attorney and two social workers, but the walls didn't reach the ceiling and were flimsy and gave very little privacy. Volunteer clerical help was a hit and miss thing, but fortunately, they were able to function with the few women who did come in to do the typing and filing. "Hi Es, almost finished? he asked. Esther looked at him and smiled. Bill was such a dear man. He was in his mid 50s and widowed. He had made a small fortune in his own marketing business, but when his wife passed away he had lost interest in accumulating money and decided that he would enjoy helping the less fortunate. He had returned to school, had gotten his Master's in Social Work and was donating his services without pay. Bill's lean and lanky 6 foot frame and long face belied a very sharp, perceptive mind. Esther, in a moment of weakness, had related the reasons why she had moved and had come to work at the legal aid group. Perhaps his slight resemblance to her ex-husband prompted that conversation. She remember how he had taken her hand and had commiserated with her. She considered him a dear and valued friend. "Yep, done for the day, Bill, thank goodness. It'll be good to get out of here for a couple of days," she replied, a bit wearily. Bill hesitated, then asked tentatively, "Es, how about dinner? I hate eating alone and I sure would enjoy your company." Esther thought for a brief moment. "Sure, Bill. I'd like that, but no place upscale. Is that okay?" "Sure," smiled a relieved Bill. "How about if I pick you up around 7. We can go to that Italian place near your apartment. Is that okay?" "Sounds good. See you then," replied Esther as she and her friend locked up and exited the building. ******************** The dinner was fine, the food good and the conversation friendly and easy. Esther felt comfortable and recognized that it truly was good to get out of her apartment and mingle with friends. She did notice that Bill seemed to be a bit thoughtful and just a little preoccupied during dinner and often seemed to be deep in thought as he sipped his Chianti. "You're sure that you don't want a glass of wine, Es. It really is good," asked Bill again. Esther glanced at him with a bit of annoyance. "Bill, I'm surprised you keep asking me that. You know what happened to me. I told you before, I'll never have any alcohol again. Never," she repeated emphatically. Bill nodded. "I know, Es. Really, I do remember that conversation. But I want to ask you to do me a favor, but think before you answer. Okay, Es?...it's important." Esther stared at him, now puzzled. "What's the question? Why suddenly so serious? What's on your mind, Bill?" Bill reached over and took her hand. "Essie, do you trust me? Wait...this is important. Think. Do you trust me? Do you know that I would never do anything to harm you or let harm come to you? Do you believe that?" Esther blinked in surprise. What did that come from? She hesitated a bit and then replied, "I guess so, Bill. Yes, I do believe that. I do trust you, but why are you asking me that question? What do you want?" she asked a bit fearfully. Bill hesitated a bit, then answered. "Es, I'd like you to see Ben Forbes. I took the liberty of discussing you with him and he's agreed to see you. Wait, wait," he said to forestall her rising ire. "Just remember what I told you. I would never do anything to harm you or let harm come to you. I really believe that this could help you." Esther sat there, a bit upset and confused. "Dr. Forbes? But, Bill, Dr. Forbes is a psychiatrist and his specialty is alcoholism and anyway, he retired 2 months ago. Why should I see him? I'm not an alcoholic." Bill nodded. "I know that you're not, Es. I really don't want to say too much right now. Please, Esther. You said that you trust me. Just call Ben, he's expecting your call. He'll explain everything. I know that I'm asking a lot of you....jeez, I hate to use an old bromide, but it really is in your best interest." ******************** "Hello? Patty?" John Watson asked haltingly into the phone. "Yes. Johnny?" Patricia O'Hara asked. John smiled as he recognized her voice. "Hi, Patty. Just calling to see how you are and ask if you'd like to have dinner sometime this week." Patty chuckled a bit. "Well, it took you long enough. It's been, what?...two weeks since I gave you my number?" "I know, I know, Pat. I just got snowed under here. I know I should have called earlier, but to tell the truth, you made me feel a little intimidated." John then laughed self consciously. "You're kidding?" Pat asked disbelievingly. "I intimidated Dr. John Watson? I learned who you are at the University. I also researched the books and articles you've written. You've got quite a reputation, John, and you're telling me that I intimated you?" "Yeah, yeah," John muttered. "Don't believe everything you read, Pat. Now, how about dinner? Maybe somewhere in the old neighborhood?" As soon as John indicated that location he paused, wondering what made him suggest that. Was he returning to his roots? He didn't have too much time to ponder that. Patty laughed again and agreed. "Okay, Johnny. Here's my address, pick me up tomorrow around 7 and I'll find someplace that we'll both enjoy." John sat back after he finished his conversation. He appeared thoughtful, a bit introspective. He liked Patty O'Hara, he had enjoyed being with her that evening. Could this be a burgeoning, meaningful relationship? He shook his head impatiently and felt foolish. Damn, it was only a date, he'd been dating, why did he feel that this was any different than all of the others. He brushed those questions aside and turned to working on the paperwork which he was really beginning to despise. Academia was no different than corporate America. They were both drowning in red tape. ******************** John pushed himself back a bit from the table and groaned. "Woody, I'm amazed that you don't weigh 300 pounds, and, Renee, where on earth did you learn to cook like this? That's a talent I never expected, what a delicious dinner." Irene smiled wickedly, "Oh, I have many talents, don't I, Woody?' Her husband forced a laugh, but his flush demonstrated his embarrassment. "Don't start, Renee. Damn, she just loves embarrassing me.....if I had only known then..." John smiled affectionately at his friends. "Okay, guys. Enough of that or I'll start getting embarrassed. Again, thanks for dinner, but just because you were my guests for a meal doesn't mean that you have to so quickly repay. C'mon, this isn't tit for tat." "Oh, John. Don't be silly, we've been friends for too long for that. We invited you for dinner because we enjoy your company. This had nothing to do with quid pro quo," remonstrated Irene. "Okay, okay, Renee. I'll accept that," and he chuckled. "You can invite me for dinner anytime you wish, especially with this unknown talent... for cooking, for cooking," John added quickly. Both Irene and Woody laughed in response. Irene then looked at her friend with a glint in her eyes. "So, tell me, John. You've been dating this Patty O'Hara for what, 3 or 4months now? Is it getting to be more than just casual meeting with a friend?" Woody groaned, "Jeez, I told her, John. I told her to keep her nose out of your business. She just doesn't listen, damn it." Irene ignored him and continued to gaze steadily at her friend. John just shook his head and grinned ruefully. "You never change, Renee. Why are you so interested in Patty? I told you before that I knew her years ago as a kid, now she's grown and I like her and find her interesting. Period, end of story." Irene wouldn't let go. "Okay, John. She's interesting and you like her. Is it going further than that, or is there the potential for more? Listen, John. I'm not just a noseybody. Whether anyone believes me or not, I love you like a brother and I want the best for you. I want you to be happy, Johnny, that's all." John rising ire deflated at her words. He knew that she truly did care and want the best for him. He glanced at Woody, who sat there with his head in his hands, causing John to actually laugh out loud. "Damn, Renee. Only you could get away with this crap. Yes, I like her. I admire her intelligence, I like her humor and the self deprecating indifference to what she has done and is accomplishing. I like the way she looks, she's lovely. I like being with her." John paused for a moment, considering. "Is there more? Could there be more? I don't know, Renee. I really don't know. Right now we're just friends and I like that. I don't think that we're ready for anything more. Don't forget, Patty is a widow, she lost her husband a couple of years ago in that hell hole that is Iraq and she's still angry and still grieving. I'm sure that she also is not looking for anything more than we now have and I'm comfortable with that also." John paused, looking at Irene quizzically. "Okay, Renee? Satisfied?" he again asked, but without rancor. He knew that she meant well and he truly did love her as a dear and valued friend. ******************** A late spring shower was spotting the dusty street, but John Watson strode, deep in thought, almost indifferent to the fact that his light jacket wasn't much protection from the rain. His mind was occupied with thoughts of Patty O'Hara and he was trying to determine exactly what his feelings were. He acknowledged that he enjoyed her company - she was intelligent and well read and he was quite aware of how attractive she was. So why the ambivalence? Mentally shrugging aside his confusion he paused and looked about, noticing with a smile that he was up the block from the saloon (calling it a lounge would have been pretentious) where Patty had taken him at their first and rather unusual encounter and where they had returned many times thereafter. John entered and, removing his wet jacket, waved at Sammy behind the bar and asked for a cup of coffee. Sipping the hot brew he noticed Sammy looking at him quizzically. "So Doc, I usually see Patty with you. How come you're alone today? "I was just taking a walk, Sam. I wound up here almost accidently and I think Patty is on duty now. Her shifts keep changing, I don't know how she keeps track of it all." John paused and looked at Sammy speculatively. "Sammy, you've been here almost forever, haven't you?" "Over 25 years, Doc. I bought this place on a shoestring. You should remember what this looked like, it was a dump. I made a deal with the guy who owned it. He was desperate to get rid of it and while it ain't no fancy joint, it is clean from the kitchen to the bar and it makes me a living. I got no complaints." "Yeah, I do remember, Sammy. I left the neighborhood before that and never really returned. My folks had moved and I didn't have anything to bring me back...not until now," John concluded quietly, his voice trailing off. Sammy looked at John thoughtfully for a moment. "It's Patty, ain't it, Doc? You think that maybe you got a thing for her? I hope that you ain't takin' her for a ride, Doc. She's too good a person," and now Sammy had a glint in his eyes. "Not to worry, Sammy. I would never do anything to harm Patty. We've been friends for too long. As for having a "thing" for her, I don't think so, but to be truthful, I'm just not sure. Right now we're just good friends and I don't want to screw that up." John glanced up at Sam and grinned. "I'm glad that Patty's your friend, Sam, and I'm glad that you look after her." Sammy returned the grin, reached over and patted John on the shoulder. "Just checkin', Doc. Just checkin'." His face then turned a bit somber as he continued. "Look, Doc. I gotta tell you somethin'. There's this guy that's been hittin' on Pat. When she lost her husband this creep made his move. He got real friendly, made like he was really sorry for her loss and started droppin' around whenever she was here. You know, bought her a few drinks and made like he was just being friendly. You know what I mean. "He really took his time, made like a nice guy for months. Then he started getting a little more than just friendly. You know, askin' her out - said it was just a friendly dinner, just so she could get out. He used to wait for her to come in here, the fuckin' creep. I never trusted him, but Patty kept tellin' me that he was okay, just a friendly guy. "Well, she finally gave him the brush. I guess she started to get a little leery of him too and she wanted to back away, but the fucker started to get mean, started to talk nasty, you know what I mean. Patty finally told him to get lost or she would arrest him for stalking. I told her that I would be her witness. So anyway, he finally got the hint, but I see him every now and then and I ain't sure about him. He's been hangin' around more often now. I get the feelin' that he's just waiting for a chance at her. "Look, Doc. I ain't just shooting off my mouth. This guy's a little nutty so watch your back, okay? Just a word to the wise, okay?" Sammy's eyes were boring into John's and it was obvious that he was worried. ******************** "Oh, he just walked in, Pat. Hold on." Julia said as John strode into the office. He nodded at his secretary and told her that he would take it in his office. Closing the door behind me he sank into his desk chair and grinned as he picked up the phone. "Hi, Patty. Glad I didn't miss your call." "Hi, Johnny. Got your message to call you at your office. What's up? Everything okay I hope." Patty said. "Oh, sure. Everything is hunky dory, Pat. Couldn't be better. The sun's shining and the birdies are singing. It's a great day," John laughed. He could hear Pat returning his laughter. "Well, aren't we in a good mood this morning. So this call is just a friendly 'how are things' kind of thing? You're not asking me to run off with you to Vegas or Reno or anything like that?" she teased. John laughed again. "Noooo, sorry to disappoint you, kiddo. But I do have a question. Are you free tonight and if you are how about meeting at Sammy's for a burger and beer. I think my waistline can take one of his monsters." "Sounds good, Johnny. I'm on days for a while so the timing is good. Meet you there around 7? Is that okay?" "Sounds great, Patty. See you there then." John hung up the phone and smiled to himself as he leaned back in his chair. He had given up agonizing about how he felt about Pat O'Hara. He liked her, he liked being with her and he was just not going to worry about what the future held in store. How did the kids put it these days? Oh, yes: 'Go with the flow.' That's what he was going to do, he would 'go with the flow.' A Study in Scarlet: Epilog ******************** "John, if I eat another bite I'll explode. I just don't know how you can eat that whole burger - it's big enough to feed an army," Patty laughed as she looked at her dining partner finishing the last bit of one of Sammy's monster burgers. "Glumph, crumps, ooops. Jeez, Patty, let me swallow. Oh, boy. That was great, That, without any doubt, is the best burger in the city. That guy should be cooking at the Ritz," John laughed. "I just don't know where you put it, Johnny. You eat like a horse and yet you don't gain any weight. I know a few women who would kill to know your secret," Pat said. "It's no secret, sweetie. I do a lot of walking and jogging. I've been doing that for awhile now and it's gotten to be habit. It helps mentally and it's good physically. You can tell those women to get up off their duff and become active. Look at you, Pat. You're trim. Your friends could take lessons from you," John replied. They were both startled as a huge brute of a man approached their booth and snarled, "Well, lookie at the love birds. Ain't this just cute. You fuckin' slut, so this is why you told me to take a hike, for this asshole? He pokin' you yet, slut?" The suddenness of the guys appearance rendered John mute for a couple of moments and Pat answered before he had time to gather his wits. "Frank, back off. I told you before, you're not welcome where I happen to be. Turn around and leave, I'm not going to tell you again," Pat snapped at him. Godzilla started to move closer when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Looking around he saw Sammy standing there with a baseball bat in his hands. Now Sammy even without the bat looked formidable. He stood well over 6 feet and little of it was fat. "Get out. Get out now or I'll cave your goddamn skull in, asswipe. I told you before, stay out of my place. The next time I have to tell you that they're gonna come get you with an meat wagon. Now's your last chance. Get out," Sammy growled. The brute stood there for a moment, gnashing his teeth. Then with a muttered curse he turned and walked away and out of the door. Sammy turned to the couple in the booth. "Sorry about that, guys. He got past me before I knew it." "Don't worry, Sammy. Thanks for the help. It's seems that Frank just can't take no for an answer. I really think that I'll eventually have to take him in. He's probably going to continue to cause me problems," sighed Pat. She then turned to John and apologized again. "Sorry, John. Frank's a long story. I thought he was a friend, obviously not...." John interrupted her. "Don't apologize, Pat. I fully understand, but I agree with you. This guys unbalanced and he shouldn't be underestimated. I'm more than a little worried. I think that you're in danger, Patty." "He's right, Pat," interjected Sammy who was still standing by the booth. "That creep's gonna be a problem. Somebody's got to do somethin'." Patty laughed softly. "My two knights in shining armor. Jeepers, guys. Don't worry so much. I know Frank. He's more bark than bite. I can take care of him. Please. I mean it, don't worry, really. I can take care of myself." ******************** Esther Watson parked her car in the driveway and looked at the old, rambling, one story farmhouse that had been in Dr. Ben Forbes family for generations. The shake siding had aged and had acquired an attractive silvery patina. A long front porch graced the outside of the building and she saw a bald, short, rather portly older man standing by the front door waving to her. She quickly exited the car and made her way to the house. "Esther, Esther, it's so nice to see you again. I can't tell you how happy I am that you called. To tell the truth, I wasn't sure that you would," Ben Forbes rumbled in his deep bass as he extended a hand in welcome. Esther shook his hand and smiled. She liked Ben, he always went out of his way to make her feel welcome and comfortable, but then again, he did that with all he came into contact. "Ben, I'm happy to see you too and I wish that this was just a social call. Bill Sagan was most insistent that I see you, it was difficult to say no to him. But I'm confused, Ben. I really do not understand why I'm here," Esther said. "Come in, come in and let's make you comfortable first, Esther. After I get you a nice, cool drink we'll sit down and chat. That's all this is, Esther. Just a nice chat between friends," Ben said as he ushered her into the large living room. The room was flooded with light and the furniture looked old, but well maintained and very comfortable. Ben seated Esther in a chair by the fireplace and then bustled to the kitchen and returned quickly with two tall glasses of iced tea. He handed on to her and placed a coaster on the pine table by her elbow. Seating himself opposite her in a chair Ben took a long swallow and kept his glass between his palms. He looked at Esther affectionately. "Esther, I want you to keep an open mind about what I'm about to say. I know that you're an intelligent woman and I really think that this little chat could be very productive and very helpful to you." Ben paused and smiled ruefully at Esther's cautious but puzzled expression. Mixed in with that puzzlement he could sense more than a bit of annoyance. "Ben, I admit my intelligence, I'm not stupid. This is all about my marriage and why it failed. I don't need you telling me about that. I certainly know why it failed and now I'm annoyed at myself for confiding in Bill. He really shouldn't have called you about it and I'm more than a bit angry that he did." "Yes, yes you are, but you must understand that the only reason he did call is because he cares for you as a dear friend and he had a theory about the failure of your marriage about which he needed to consult with me. I am full agreement with him for I have, many times, come into contact with patients in similar circumstances. Oh, oh, not exactly like yours, but the general outline is similar, and..." Esther interrupted, "Ben, there's nothing complex about why my marriage failed. I was unfaithful. Oh, I may not have had intercourse, but I was unfaithful none the less. What happened never should have occurred and the fault was entirely mine. Period, end of story." Ben waited for her outburst to end and then took another swallow of his tea. "Esther, I want you to do me a favor. You're here now so it should be a bit easier. I want you to relay to me all of the events leading to your divorce. I want you to start at the beginning until the final confrontation with your husband. I want you to start at the very beginning of your relationship with John." Ben could see Esther struggling with his request. He knew that she didn't want to relive those events. Ben leaned forward and murmured, "Esther, please. I do have a good reason for my request." Esther sighed wearily and with a sense of resignation sank back in her chair. Her eyes misted over and she began, starting with that eventful New Year's Eve Party. Her face was expressionless and her eyes dulled. She went through the significant events in her marriage almost by rote and showed little emotion relating the hotel lounge incident which put an end to her marriage. Esther had kept her composure during the telling of her story, but when she finished describing the final conversation she had had with her now ex-husband, she broke down and wept. Ben quickly rose and fetched a box of tissues which he offered. Snatching up a handful Esther composed herself, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. She finally managed a weak smile, "Well, Ben. Now you know everything. What do you think, perhaps you can tell me that Jim Moriarty hypnotized me, that it really wasn't my fault?" Ben returned her smile and waved his hand dismissively. "No, Esther, I'm not going to tell you that, but what I will tell you is that, to a degree, it was your fault, but only to a degree. Please, let me explain. Bill suspected it and I now fully concur. You know, Esther, that my specialty has been alcoholism. Now don't make faces, I'm not going to say that you're an alcoholic. We both know that you're not. But, if you think about it you will realize that your tolerance for anything alcoholic is uniquely low. Much lower than normal. "Oh, don't misunderstand. This is not really a clinical syndrome. It's also not all that uncommon. What is a bit uncommon is your particular reaction to alcohol. Let me review some information for you." Ben wiggled in his seat, making himself more comfortable before resuming. "In the average person a few drinks, say two or three, result in mild euphoria, feelings of warmth, emotions and behavior become exaggerated, etc, etc. "Five or six drinks, and recognize that the number of drinks I mention is just used as examples, result in impaired motor skills, balance is affected, sight and hearing are reduced, judgement is impaired such as the ability to evaluate or respond to sexual situations." Esther's eyes narrowed and Ben could see that she knew where he was going with this "lecture." "Wait, Esther," Ben continued. "Wait until I finish. Let's see, oh, okay. In your case, Esther, your reaction to alcohol is extreme. Symptoms are magnified perhaps tenfold. Intensification of existing mood shoots off the scale. Let's look at that last incident in the hotel lounge. You were extremely euphoric to begin with. You had just tied up a huge deal and you were bubbling over. I suspect that was the mood that allowed you to forget or minimize your caution with alcohol. You thought that a glass or two of wine wouldn't hurt. What that glass or two of wine did was let you act as if you had five or six or seven drinks. Don't forget, that was just the beginning. Those couple of glasses of wine impaired your judgement so that you continued to drink. "The euphoria intensified dramatically, your inhibitions were almost totally repressed, and you were with a man that you had always found sexually attractive. Now, now, just think about what I'm telling you. Normally you could laugh at how you viewed him for you knew that you would never betray your husband. Unfortunately, you found yourself in a situation where your excitement and happiness about the success of your mission caused your natural caution to slip. There is where your fault lies, allowing yourself to slip. The rest became almost inevitable. Once you started to drink, you became someone else." Ben paused and gazed at Esther, noting the thoughtful look on her face. Esther finally looked up and smiled. "Pretty good, Ben. Now this is supposed to make me feel better? Now I can say, "hey, wasn't my fault, it's the booze that made me do it." Esther shook her head. "I can't buy it, Ben. I acknowledge that what you're saying may all be true, but it doesn't excuse my behavior. I should have been more cautious, I should never have had more than a few sips of wine. I should have never had even one glass, let alone two. I knew Jim Moriarty, I knew what he was like. I should never have let my guard down." Esther paused and smiled ruefully. "Good try, Ben. I'm sure that you're correct in your analysis, but it doesn't help me. Those last few months were not pleasant in my house. John and I were constantly sniping at each other. The mood was lousy and I was angry with him when I left." She laughed a bit then, a soft, bitter laugh. "I even took along that damned red underwear set. I thought that I'd show him. I won't wear it for him, but I would wear it for myself. I would wear it to make myself feel good, feel desirable. Boy, did that backfire. It just made the whole situation that much more intolerable. Maybe, if I wasn't so angry, I wouldn't have been so careless. Who knows." "Good point, Esther. Your irritation with John was just another factor that led to what happened. Think about that," Ben shot back. Esther just shook her head. "Anyway, that's all water under the bridge." She stood, reached out and patted Ben on the arm. "Thanks, Ben. I do appreciate your intent. You're a good friend, but I'm now going to head home and try to get in an hour on the treadmill. Now that does make me feel better," she laughed. Ben rose with her and taking her arm escorted her to her car. Pausing while she settled herself behind the wheel, Ben left her with these words. "Esther, it's obvious that I haven't done a very good job. You're not Wonder Woman and you have to break out of that cocoon of self loathing. It's time to face reality. You're a terrific lady and you have a lot to offer. Don't shut yourself away." Esther smiled with her lips but didn't reply. She put the car in gear and slowly drove off, but she did see Ben standing in the driveway looking after her. ******************** The next day at the office found Esther distracted and unable to fully concentrate on what she was doing. The conversation on Sunday with Dr. Forbes still rankled and she was irritated that she had allowed herself to entertain some hope - some hope that Ben could wave a magic wand that would dissolve some of the massive sense of guilt that was her constant companion. She was also irritated with Bill Sagan. She had unburdened herself to him one evening in a moment of weakness and she felt that he had betrayed her. Oh, she knew that he meant no harm, but the old adage, 'the way to hell is paved with good intentions' felt very apt right now and she wanted to let him know of her irritation and extract from him a promise not to meddle. The ringing of her phone startled her and she was abrupt with her greeting. "Esther Watson, who is this?" "Hi, Esther. This is Carol Berg, do you have a minute?" "Oh, hi Carol." Esther recognized the voice as being that of Dr. Carol Berg, M.D. She had just completed her annual physical a few days ago and which this time included the dreaded colonoscopy upon which Dr. Berg had insisted . "Esther, I need you to come in to see me today, this morning if possible." There was a pause. Esther felt more than a twinge of anxiety. "Okay, Carol. I'll come in, but I want you to tell me why. Now, Carol. Now, on the phone." Dr. Berg didn't reply for a moment. She absolutely hated this. "The results of the biopsy of that polyp that was removed from your colon just came in. It's malignant, Esther. You need surgery and the sooner the better." ******************** A few days before Esther received the news that shattered her life, her ex-husband sat quietly in his office in conversation with Irene Holmes. "No, Renee. I've really given this a lot of thought, and while I truly like Patty and feel some real affection for her, it's not love and it wouldn't be fair to her to pretend that it is." Irene had a small smile on her face as she asked softly, "Why is that, John? Is it because you won't allow yourself to feel any kind of deep emotion? Or is perhaps it's because you still feel something for Esther?" She steeled herself, waiting for his angry retort, but John just sat there with a pensive look on his face. He turned and gazed out the window, but his eyes didn't focus on the view. His thoughts had turned inward. He shrugged and turned back to his friend. "Whatever the reason, I'm not going to kid myself and I certainly don't want to cause Patty any possible pain. We're friends and I'm pretty sure that she views it that way also. I'm seeing her tonight at Sammy's. I think that it's time for us to come to an understanding about our relationship." Irene had a small frown on her face as she said, "Well, I hope that it goes just the way you think, John. Perhaps Woody and I could meet her one day soon. From your descriptions she sounds like a terrific woman." John grinned and told her that would happen soon. He then laughed, "Renee, I know you. You're just dying to see Patty, your curiosity is driving you nuts." Irene just grinned in return. She had to admit that John may be more than half right in his assessment. ******************** That evening John Watson had rounded the corner on his way to Sammy's Place when he noticed that there was no light coming from the alley behind the saloon. Sammy had a small spotlight over the back door and since dusk was falling, the light should have been on. John reminded himself to let Sammy know that he probably should replace the bulb. As he proceeded toward the front entrance he was grabbed and thrown into the alley with a force that took his breath away. Straightening, he found himself looking up at Frank, the brute who had accosted Patty in the saloon not long before. He immediately recognized that extracting himself from this situation was not going to be easy, especially when he noted the six inch blade that the brute brandished. "Hiya, teach. We're gonna have a little fun, you and me. Know what? I'm gonna filet you, just like a fuckin' fish. I'm gonna gut you from collar to crotch, or maybe from crotch to collar. You gotta preference, teach?" He then giggled and made a feint toward John who danced out of his way. "Not bad, teach. You move pretty good, but that ain't gonna help you. No way out here, teach. Take a look around you, this is where you gonna croak," and he giggled again. John knew that he was in trouble. He also knew that while he was pretty good with his fists, this was a whole new ballgame. He was pretty sure that he couldn't take this gorilla on one to one and with the knife he really couldn't see a way out. "PUT IT DOWN, FRANK. NOW." Again the voice was loud, authoritative and female. John saw Patty standing there with her gun out, pointing at Frank's back. Godzilla turned slowly and leered at her. "Hey, Pattycakes. I'm just doin' you a favor. After I get rid of this creep we can go to your place and get down and dirty," and John felt a chill run down his spine as he heard him giggle again. "Frank, I'm not going to tell you again. Put the knife down, put it down NOW," commanded Pat. Frank suddenly made a move toward her with the knife. She was standing about 8 feet from him and she easily stepped back and shot him in the shoulder. She blinked in surprise as she saw him still coming for her. John then threw himself at his back and was again shocked as Frank just shrugged him off and continued toward Patty. Patty, taking another step back, shot him again in the other shoulder and when he still kept coming at her, she, without any hesitation, emptied the gun into his chest. Frank finally stopped, sighed and sank to the ground. John just sat on the ground in stunned astonishment. He quickly rose to his feet and rushed to Pat's side. She looked down at the gun in her hand in disgust. "Damn 32 calibre. I really should know better, but the 38 is so damn heavy. Well, I learned a lesson tonight. This toy is history." John just stood there with his mouth open, until he finally was able to speak. "Pat, are you ok?" Pat looked up at him and a soft smile came to her lips. "Yes, John. I'm fine. Please, don't think that I'm that callous. I saw him grab you and I rushed to get here. I hate what I just had to do, but I had no choice. I think that I always knew that Frank was unbalanced and that there would be trouble. I guess he proved that tonight. Let me get this sorted out, John. Just hold on." Pat then proceeded to contact her station and it wasn't long before there were a couple of squad cars there along with another detective and the Medical Examiner. Their statements were taken and John was asked to please come into the station the next day for a formal statement which he promised to do. It was well over an hour before he and Patty were alone. "Patty, John, get in here. I have drinks set up in your booth. Are you guys hungry? Let me get a couple of burgers for you, okay?" asked Sammy as he stood with a few others at the door to the saloon.