Monthly Archives: December 2018

Diary of Doctor J. Watson

As we watched, a familiar figure emerged out of the shadows.

‘Here he is – your own, your very own, Professor James Moriarty!’ The Hooded Claw waved his hook enthusiastically and the two villains embraced.

‘Good evening,’ said the Professor, smiling benignly. ‘Lovely to see you Mister Holmes, and so nice that you’re here with your faithful assistant, Mister Peabrain Watson, his whore of a wife and her lesbian lover.’

I was about to let rip with a torrent of vitriol, when Holmes held up a warning finger. ‘Don’t do it, John,’ he murmured. Then, raising his voice, ‘Sticks and stones, Professor, sticks and stones.’

‘Yes indeed,’ said the Claw, patting Moriarty on the shoulder. ‘But to business. As I intimated earlier to Doctor Watson, I do intend to kill you all, but that is not to happen for some considerable time yet.’ He paused and glanced at Moriarty, whose smile wavered a little. ‘No, what I’d like to do is to cause all four of you, but especially you, Shirley, to be brought before your English courts and tried for murder, then thrown into jail for a period of months where you will all be buggered soundly every day by the biggest and ugliest inmates, and then finally, I shall infiltrate the prison and execute each of you myself in a truly horrifying and wonderfully painful manner.’

Moriarty’s smile had disappeared, and an expression of absolute rage took its place. He stared at his companion and said in a low and threatening voice, ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

The Claw grinned and clicked his fingers. In an instant his men had grabbed Moriarty and tied his arms and legs using some of the leather straps from either side of the circular saw.

‘Claw! Claw,’ What’s going on?’ yelled the villain, struggling helplessly against his bonds.

‘Now, Mister Holmes,’ said the Claw, ignoring Moriarty’s protestations. ‘I should like you to tell me which of us…’ he waggled his hook between himself and the Professor. ‘Which of us is the greater villain?’

‘Ah,’ said Holmes. ‘I see.’

‘Come on, come on,’ urged the Claw, waving his arms.

‘Let me see, now,’ said Holmes rubbing his chin with his free hand. ‘Which of you is the greater?’ He made a show of considering this, then shrugged. ‘Clearly the Hooded Claw is the greater villain.’

‘Hah!’ yelled the Claw triumphantly.

‘Although…’ continued Holmes, thoughtfully.

The Claw ceased his revelry and stared. ‘Although what?’

‘Well,’ said Holmes. ‘In an ideal world there would be three villains to choose from.’

Both the Claw and Moriarty fell silent, then in perfect unison said, ‘Three?’

‘Three,’ said Holmes. He held up a finger. ‘The Professor, of course.’ Another finger. ‘Yourself.’ A third finger. ‘And the Woman.’

‘Sorry, what?’ said the Claw, his lower lip trembling slightly.

‘Sorry, I meant to say, The Woman,’ repeated Holmes. ‘Irene Adler.’

‘Fine,’ said the Claw, ‘but she’s not here, so who do you choose?’

Holmes shrugged again. ‘Moriarty.’

‘What?’ exploded the Claw, jumping up and down.

‘After all, he is the Napoleon of crime, so…’ He smiled. ‘Don’t you agree, Mister Claw?’

At this, the Claw spun round, screaming at Moriarty. ‘The Napoleon of crime, the Napoleon of fucking crime? Well, I’ll tell you, Moriarty, you’re just like Napoleon – small, ineffectual and dead from the neck down. Come and work with me, you said. I’ll teach you how to be a proper arch-villain, you said. Oh yes, had me running around like a headless goat doing this, doing that, doing every bloody thing you told me just so I could benefit from your massive intellectual abilities. Well, it’s time someone showed you who’s boss and I can tell you – it’s me!’ He waved a hand at the four of us and continued, ‘This bunch of incompetent defectives foiled my plans once before, but this time I’ve got the upper hand. I’m going to carve you up and blame it on Sherlock Bloody Holmes and his pals, then we’ll see who’s laughing.’

He barked out a series of orders and watched as his men tied the Professor onto the conveyor belt, legs wide, in a position that would enable his body to be sliced perfectly up the middle.

‘Start the machine,’ yelled the Claw.

One of the henchmen pressed a button and the circular saw screamed into life, its shimmering silvery disc demanding everyone’s attention. Another button was pressed, and the conveyor belt began to trundle along, propelling Moriarty towards what would be a quick, but painful death.

Diary of Doctor J. Watson

It was dark when, some twenty minutes later and accompanied by a bevy of villains, we arrived via two rowing boats at the shore. Looking back at the vessel we had recently been extricated from, I wondered how the Claw expected to keep the thing hidden from public view – after all, being in the shape of a gigantic metal fish, it did seem unlikely it would not attract attention. However, as I watched, the metallic beast closed her hatches and slowly disappeared beneath the waves.

‘You are wondering where I keep it, eh?’ said a surprisingly softly-spoken Claw from his seat beside me.

‘Yes, actually,’ I said. ‘An underground cave, perhaps?’

He nodded. ‘As an arch villain, I have to think of everything. It can be tedious being the boss sometimes.’

‘You could always surrender?’

He giggled girlishly, gave me a playful punch on the arm, then resumed his usual gruffness and barked a series of orders at the crew.

From the look of the buildings ahead of us, we were making for a large warehouse a few yards up from the wharf. I noticed several other buildings behind the main one, though these were not lit up and the only signs of life came from the crowd of henchmen who were engaged in getting us out of the boats and into the warehouse.

As we trudged up the shingled beach, I tried to make out the details of the various pieces of apparatus that had been arranged just inside the huge double doors of the warehouse. A feeling of déjà vu wafted over me as I stared at the long workbench, the conveyor belt on top and the scarily-familiar circular saw that slotted into it at one end. Beneath the bench and the saw, sat a small steam engine, and as if that wasn’t enough to cause me to fill my trousers several times over, the horrific picture was completed by a series of leather straps fastened on either side of the table.

Hustling us inside, the henchmen lined us up against the wall and tied our wrists together. Holmes was tethered to me, me to Mary, and Mary to Penny, so the only chance of absconding would demand that all four of us cooperate. Though, at that moment, the possibility of escape seemed like a remote and highly unlikely scenario.

Holmes leaned over and whispered in my ear. ‘It may be my imagination Johnny, but this scenario looks awfully familiar.’

I nodded. ‘Edinburgh.’

He sighed. ‘Ah. I’d hoped I was mistaken.’

‘Now then,’ said the Hooded Claw, tying a bloodstained apron around his waist. ‘See if you can guess what’s going to happen here?’

We all looked at each other, none of us wishing to state the obvious. Finally, Holmes spoke.

‘At a wild guess, I’d say we were slicing tonight.’

The Claw laughed heartily. ‘Very good, Holmes, very good. But no, that is not my intention.’ He paused, as if waiting for Holmes to make another suggestion, but the big-nosed detective said nothing more.

‘Very well, then,’ the villain continued. ‘As you have surmised, these items of equipment came from an auction house in Scotland. I learned of your involvement with them via a friend of mine. In fact, that same friend is here with me tonight.’ Holding up his good hand, he clicked his fingers. The various henchmen gathered around the edges of the warehouse burst into a round of applause, which only ceased when a man emerged out of the shadows and made his way to stand by the side of the Claw.

‘Oh, bugger,’ I said.

‘Seconded,’ murmured Holmes.