A Study in Scarlet: Epilog

"Just the drinks for now, Sam," replied Patty. "I think both John and I have to come down a little before thinking about food. I know that my heart is still racing a little."

It took more than just a couple of drinks and over another hour before they both felt comfortable. Patty had assured John that events like what had just occurred were not all that commonplace and he could tell that the foremost emotion she was feeling was sorrow - sorrow that she had to take a life.

"It was the first time, John. Oh, I did have to use my gun occasionally, but I never killed anyone before," and John could hear the tremor in her voice.

"I've never killed anyone before," she repeated and the tremor intensified and was soon followed by full throated sobs. John saw Sammy start toward their booth and waved him back.

John moved beside Patty and took her in his arms. She buried her head in his shoulder and he allowed her to cry for he knew that she needed to do this. Eventually she pulled back and reached for a handful of tissues. After wiping her face and blowing her nose, she smiled up at John and patted his hand.

"Thanks, John. I guess I needed that. Thank you for allowing that to happen." Noticing his frown of concern she continued. "Don't be worried, Johnny. I'm okay now, really. But if you're that concerned, how about walking me home. I don't think I want to be alone right now."

John quickly agreed and after reassuring Sammy they walked out of the saloon and then slowly made their way the short blocks to Patty's row house. She had kept hold of his arm as they walked and the silence between them was warm and comfortable - no words were needed.

When they stopped at the steps leading to Patty's brownstone, she clutched his arm and looked up at him. "Johnny, come up. I'll make some coffee. Stay for a bit, please."

He saw her need and nodded, although warning signs were triggered. He knew that he was now in dangerous territory and he also knew that he would never take advantage of his friend. His brain was frantically searching for ways to tell her how he felt without hurting her or damaging her self-esteem, especially after the trauma of the shooting.

Patty's place seemed spacious. The living room was furnished in comfortable, not inexpensive but well worn pieces. She had a fireplace and it looked like it got quite a bit of use, although it was dark and empty now. An area rug covered beautiful hardwood floors which had a soft patina and looked well cared for. A huge ottoman sat before the sofa and was clearly used as a coffee table.

Following her into the kitchen, John was a bit startled as he didn't expect to see something out of House and Garden here. The wooden cabinets were maple and shone softly, the appliances stainless steel and the small, kitchen table was covered with what looked like a gingham cloth with two chairs nestled under it in one corner.

"John, the living room or here in the kitchen? I'll put the coffee up now, it's shouldn't take long."

John quickly chose the kitchen, sensing it more neutral that the warmth and comfort of the living room. He sat gingerly in a chair and twiddled the fringe of the table covering nervously. He didn't see Patty look over to him with a twinkle in her eyes. It didn't take long before Patty was bringing over two steaming mugs of black cofee.

"I hope that you don't take anything in it, John. I don't have any milk or cream, but I may manage to scrounge up some sugar or sweetener if you wish."

"No, no, no. I mean that this is fine, Patty. It's fine, really it is. No problem, this is the way I usually have my coffee," John replied with a bit of a stutter.

"John," Patty finally laughed aloud. "You're as nervous as a girl on her first date. Don't fret, I won't bite. You're uneasy as hell and I think I suspect why."

"Uhhhh, Patty, ahhhh. Look, honey. I love you, I really do. You're the sister I've never had and I cherish our friendship. I don't want anything to spoil that, but.........", and he paused.

Patty smiled softly at him, her gaze full of affection. "I know, I know," she murmured. "John, John, don't worry. I'm not in love with you, at least not that way, and I feel the same. I love you, and I feel about you almost what I felt for Tim. I don't believe the nonsense that a man and woman cannot be just friends and I know too many examples to disprove that horse manure."

Patty laughed softly and reached out a hand. "Friends, John? Let's vow to always be friends, okay?"

John breathed a huge sigh of relief. "You bet, Patty. Friends always," he said as he clasped her hand in his.

Patty grinned, picked up her coffee and turned to her friend. "Let's go into the living room, it's a lot more comfortable there and I want to get a little nosy."

John nodded and followed her. Patty settled herself comfortably into the corner of the sofa and motioned John into an easy chair across from her. She put her cup on the large ottoman and again turned to him, this time with a look of puzzlement on her face.

"Johnny, don't think I'm a busybody, but could to tell me why your marriage failed. You've dropped a few hints now and then, but we've never really spoken about that. If you're really too uncomfortable with that topic, then we can forget it," Patty concluded hurriedly.

John hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "I guess I don't mind telling you, Pat, although it's not a pretty story." He leaned back in his chair and told her of the hotel lounge and what he witnessed there. The retelling of those moments again filled him with pain and his voice broke as he quickly concluded his narrative.

Patty's eyes had narrowed a bit and she seemed thoughtful. "John, had Esther ever acted that way before? Do you suspect that perhaps she had been unfaithful to you other times in your marriage?"

John thought for a moment before replying. "The last few months of our marriage were not good, Pat. We were always sniping at each other. Esther always seemed tense and moody, often preoccupied. Things that never were much of a problem for us suddenly assumed new and dramatic proportions. I knew that she working on a big project that meant a lot of money to the firm, but it seemed as if she just sacrificed our marriage in favor of that damned project. I also found out.........,"

John paused a moments, and he then told Patty about Jim Moriarty and his part in the huge blow up he had with Esther at that New Year's Party decades ago and then his sudden return to the law firm. He then recounted his astonishment and anger when he discovered that Moriarty was back and Esther had been working with him on that project for months, something that Esther had never mentioned.

"Did her infidelity start months before I caught her in the hotel?", John asked rhetorically. He shrugged. "I don't know, but it doesn't matter. The scene at that lounge is burned into my memory. She acted like a slut, a totally wanton whore," he whispered hoarsely.

Patty arose suddenly. "Let me refill these cups, Johnny." She took them into the kitchen, wisely allowing John the time to regain his emotional equilibrium. She returned shortly and handed John a steaming cup.

"Johnny, I put a little brandy into the coffee. I think that we both could use some Dutch courage." She settled herself back into the crook of the sofa and sipped the coffee, thoughtful again. "John, things must have gotten really bad if you felt that you had to put Esther under surveillance. What did you witness about what was going on between her and Moriarty before the scene at the hotel lounge?"

John took a sip of his drink and thought for a bit. "Now that's the strange part. It appeared that there was nothing going on. In fact even their hotel rooms were on different floors........although who knows who might have visited whom during the wee hours of the night."

"But wouldn't it have been a lot easier for them if their rooms were close or perhaps even connecting?" Patty remarked. "Let me ask you again though; how did they act together. Did they dine together, did their actions seem to indicate that there might be more going on than just business?"

John frowned, then muttered. "No, in fact Esther seemed rather abrupt with him. It didn't look like anything was going on," he concluded hesitatingly.

"John, let's go back to that New Year's Party for a moment....."

John interrupted her loudly this time. "For Crissake, Pat. Why are you dredging up all this shit. I've been through it, it's over. It hurts, Patty. It still hurts. I don't want to talk about it, please," he pleaded.

"Okay, John, okay. I'm sorry, really I am. We'll drop it." Patty then took a deep breath, got up and moved over to him. She bent down and kissed him gently and without passion. "Forgive me, Johnny? I really meant well."

********************

John Watson's stroll home that evening was automatic, one foot placed ahead of the other, walking by rote memory. The scab that had been forming over the wound in his soul had been dislodged and he was hurting, feeling a pain that was almost physical.

"Damn it, goddamn it," he muttered to himself. "Why did she have to do that? Damn it, why did I allow it? I should have stopped it, I should have made her shut up." He looked about him, suddenly embarrassed. He felt foolish, talking to himself.

The chic stores along his route were closed, shuttered against possible intruders. The windows glowed softly, illuminated by the safety lights, the merchandise lying undisturbed, unaware that their appeal was lost to the late hour. Jewelry shops, clothing boutiques, small cafes still open, spilling soft music out of their doors, a bank, a high-end kitchen and bath shop, all clamoring for the customers attention. John paid them little mind.

Back in his apartment he threw himself into a chair in the living room and stared out of the window. The drapes were not drawn and the glow of the street lamps washed softly over the room. He had not turned on the lights, he just sat and let the turmoil wash over him like drops of acid rain etching lines of pain across his face.

No thoughts that were coherent went through his mind, all he felt was the pain, the pain of being away from his wife, the pain of her betrayal, the pain of the divorce, the pain of being without the one he loved.

He castigated himself. 'Enough, you wimp,' his mind whispered maliciously. 'She's the one who fucked up; she's the one who humiliated you, she's the one who was going to make you a cuckold. You did what any real man would have done. Don't be a pussy, you did what you had to do.'

The tears came slowly, trickling down his cheeks. 'Yeah, I'm not a wimp. I did what any man would do. So why.....why....why do I feel so goddamn lousy. I'm a man, goddamn it, I did what was necessary...

'So why do I feel like shit?'

********************

John woke the next morning, still in that easy chair. His mouth felt musty, almost as if he had been chewing on his socks. He knew that his breath stank and he could detect a sour body odor. He rain his hand over the stubble on his chin, rose and shed his clothing on the way to the bathroom. A scalding hot shower, shampoo and shave left him feeling almost human. Shrugging into a thick, white cotton robe he strode into the kitchen where he put up a pot of coffee.

His thoughts drifted, without his volition, to the previous evening and he grimaced slightly. The pain of that conversation still lingered, but was now manageable. He could devote some rational thought to it without coming apart.

He noticed that the coffee was ready and he poured himself a mug, sipping the hot beverage cautiously, his mind mulling over his conversation with Patty. Sighing, he put his thoughts aside and, with cup in hand, rose to move to the bedroom to dress, when he was interrupted by the buzz of the intercom.

He glanced at the clock with a small frown on his face and pressed the button on the small box by the door. "Who is it?"

"John? It's Patty, let me in please," he heard through the static.

"Patty? What...? Wait, I'll buzz you in," he replied, puzzlement apparent in his voice.

Moments later Patty appeared in the doorway and, with a smile, entered the apartment. Closing the door behind her, John said, "Well, this is a surprise, Pat. To what do I owe the..."

"Johnny, please," Patty interrupted. "I could hardly sleep last night. I was so worried about how upset you were and was afraid that you were still so angry with me. I know that I apologized, but I couldn't wait to get here to make sure that you weren't still angry with me," the anxiety apparent in her voice.

Despite himself, John had to smile. "Patty, don't be silly. I have to apologize to you, I shouldn't have lost control as I did and I certainly am sorry I caused you such worry. I...", and he was interrupted by the buzz of the intercom again.

"Now who the hell...," John muttered and again asked, "Who is it?"

"John, it's Renee. I hope that you're ready. Let me in."

He blinked in confusion. Ready? Ready for what? "Uhhh, Renee...come on up," he replied as he pressed the buzzer.

John glanced over at Pat and he chuckled. "Well, Pat. Renee has been dying to meet you and I guess this is the time."

Patty had been told about John's friends Irene and Woody Holmes, but the suddenness of her arrival left her just a bit breathless. "Perhaps I should go, Johnny. I don't want to interrupt any plans..."

"No, no, don't leave. Please, I want you to meet Renee. You're going to love her," and he couldn't hide the gleeful sparkle in his eyes.

The front door was unlocked and Renee burst through and started with a touch of exasperation in her voice. "John, you forgot, didn't you. I just knew that you would...," and she paused, suddenly noticing Patty standing there.

John bit his lip to keep from bursting out in laughter, and in a very formal manner began, "Irene Holmes, allow me to introduce Patricia O'Hara. Patricia, Mrs. Irene Holmes." He finally couldn't hold it in any longer and he left the laughter come until he couldn't catch his breath.

The women stood there in confusion until Irene finally swatted John across his chest with her small purse. "You're incorrigible, you idiot." She then grinned at him and said with a mischievous chuckle , "Don't you think that you had better get dressed or something before you totally expose yourself?"

"Ooops, sorry ladies," he mumbled, flushing a bit as he clutched the robe. "Make yourselves at home while I get dressed," and he moved quickly into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

John made sure to take his time, lingering over his selection of slacks and polo shirt. The day had started off mild and sunny, but he noticed that dark clouds had formed and it had become overcast. He turned his gaze from the window to the door and he could just hear the sound of voices from the adjoining room and he grinned. The phone suddenly rang and he moved swiftly to pick up the receiver.

"John? This is Harvey. I need to talk to you about this course of study for the new semester - you have a few minutes?"

Harvey Brack was a recently hired instructor and was going to be teaching a freshman course new to the university. He had been working on the course outline for a few weeks now.

With a gleam in his eye, John told Harvey to hold for a moment and opened the door into the living room. Renee and Patty were sitting side by side on the sofa in animated conversation which he seemed to have interrupted.

"Ladies, sorry, but I'm going to be on the phone for a few minutes. Please excuse me."

They nodded and just sat there, looking at him, quite obviously anxious for him to leave. John chuckled and retreated to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"Okay, Harvey. What's on your mind?"

Approximately fifteen minutes later John said goodby and broke the connection. He noticed that it was now rather dark out and the rain was coming down in torrents. He moved silently to the doorway and entered the living room where his two guests were still in, what seemed, a serious conversation. His appearance caused a moment of silence.

"Well," Renee finally broke the short silence. "We can forget about the outdoor art exhibit now - not that you ever remembered it," she said with an air of resignation.

"Oh, jeez," stammered John, slapping his forehead. "I'm sorry, Renee. I did forget. Woody...?"

"He's painting the den, remember? That's why I asked you to come with me to the exhibit," she said with some impatience.

Irene then turned to Pat, "My husband refuses to pay someone for something that he thinks he can do just as well," she said in explanation. "Of course we all know that he can't do it as well and we wind up paying someone to come in and redo what he had already done." She threw up her hands and muttered, "Men!!!"

Renee then laughed, which belied her feigned disgust with "men", rose and said as she strode to John 's kitchen, "Well, since the heavens have opened up we might as well rummage through John's pantry and fridge and see what we can scrounge for lunch."

John grinned, shrugged and turned helplessly to Patty. "See what I mean? She's worse than a little sister."

Patty laughed and said, "I like her, John. I like her a lot," and she followed Renee out of the room.

Lunch wasn't all that bad. The girls made tuna salad sandwiches. He had a couple of tomatoes that weren't too overaged and they washed it all down with some nice zinfandel. It wasn't a feast, but was certainly more than adequate. John was amazed at how well Renee and Patty had bonded. They had been chatting away the whole time. They seemed like old friends, not people who had just met each other.

Patty had put down her napkin and turned to the others. "Renee, I had planned to ask John to come over for dinner tonight and I'd would love it if you and Woody would join us."

Before I could answer, Renee had given her regrets. It appeared that they had plans, but Renee thanked her and had asked for a rain check. John sensed an underlying humor in this verbal interplay, but mentally shrugged and thought, 'Women.'

"Okay, I'm off. The rain has let up and I have to see how much Woody has screwed up the den. John, you can do the dishes. Patty, can I give you a lift or did you drive here?" Irene's voice was a sharp staccato, as it usually was when she was in a hurry.

"A lift sounds great, Renee, I took the bus here." The girls looked at each other for a moment and it almost seemed that something passed between them, a quiet, private something.

********************

The evening was hot and steamy and while the rain had ended, the humidity was high, too uncomfortable for an evening stroll. It didn't take long for a bus to appear and John hopped on and sat in a seat behind the driver. He felt a bit uneasy, as if something was trying to get his attention but kept slipping from the front of his mind.

The bus ride didn't take long and John exited the vehicle and casually strode the couple of blocks to Patty's place. He rang the bell and waited for her to come to the door. He realized suddenly that he hadn't brought anything with him. 'Shit,' he murmured. 'I should have brought some wine or something.'

"John, Hi, sweetie. I'm happy that you're here. Dinner is ready and I'm hungry so let's eat. Sit while I serve, the table is all set as you can see." She reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek.

As John walked into the house, he could hear Patty fumble a bit at the door. She then turned and escorted him into the dining area. Everything looked beautiful, the china, the flatware and glasses seemed to sparkle.

"Jeez, Patty, everything looks beautiful. You didn't have to go to all this trouble. I feel foolish, especially since I didn't bring anything. I should have brought some wine, or something..."