Entry 10

"I am afraid, Watson, that I shall have to send you back to the flat."

Having gathered my skirt to prevent myself from tripping, I dropped it in disbelief at my companion's words.

"What? Why?"

She turned to face me, a rather serious expression on her face. More serious than usual.

"Our trail of clues leads to a place of extreme danger," she told me, not breaking eye contact. "If you were to join me, I fear I would be putting you in harm's way and your life would very much be threatened."

"Hm," I hummed. "For some strange reason, I recall someone allowing me to tag along when they were chasing down a serial killer just so I would 'leave them be'."

Shirleigh glared at me silently.

"My life was in danger then, what makes this any different? Also, I know what we are heading into this time, unlike before."

"You do not."

"Yes, I do," said I. "You told me before we left."

"Are you-," Shirleigh's eyebrow knitted together in what seemed more like confusion than anger. "Are you arguing with me? Is this an argument?"

"I suppose so," I shrugged.

We stared at each other and I could tell we were waiting for the other to give in. Ever since I started living with Shirleigh, I always accompanied her on her ventures, save for the times I was busy with work. I found that watching her work and seeing criminals brought to justice was quite exhilarating but also dangerous. There were a few times when her life looked to be on the line but she would somehow manage to evade the danger and come out successful. The wounds she sustained, however, were something that I constantly needed to keep tending to since she lacked the unction to take care of them properly.

"No."

Shirleigh broke the silence and turned back to face the street.

"But-,"

"Nope," she interjected. "Plus, someone needs to be there when my accountant arrives. Again. I shall leave you to handle that."

"Accountant?"

"According to Hudson, she keeps visiting when I am away," Shirleigh said. "She is supposed to arrive later today and I will not be able to meet her, again. So you will take my place while I am gone."

"Alright," I sighed, defeated. "Is there anything-"

When I looked up, Shirleigh was gone and my shoulders drooped. I couldn't keep myself from thinking up worst-case scenarios. I wouldn't be there if something horrible was to happen. Then again, she'd been partaking in this kind of "hobby" before I even arrived, so perhaps she would be fine. But she had informed me that the Jack the Ripper case was her first time chasing a murderer and we haven't encountered any more until now. I made a desperate attempt to shake the thoughts from my head.

I took a deep breath and lifted my gaze, nearly losing my balance.

"Sorry!" Maxwell apologised, taking hold of my arm, and stabilising me. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Oh, it's alright," I said, dusting off my skirt.

"It was just, I couldn't help but notice that it seemed like your friend just left you," he said.

"Ah, right," I looked over my shoulder down the street. "It's fine, she's merely going to handle some business for the rest of the day."

"Oh, well, did you need a ride? I'd be happy to take you wherever you need to go."

I shook my head.

"I'll be fine," I told him. "Thank you for the offer, though."

"Of course."

It looked like he wanted to say something else, but stopped himself before returning inside the iron fence.

»»————-　♔　————-««

When I arrived at the Palace, I saw Mr. Hudson speaking with someone I had seen before. The woman in the blue suit from a couple of weeks ago was standing before him. She turned around when he waved at me. She gave me a bright smile as the lenses in her glasses shone under the light of the chandelier.

"Welcome back, Miss Watson," Mr. Hudson greeted me. "How was your outing? Shirleigh isn't with you?"

"It was...nice, for the most part, and I'm afraid not," said I. "Apologies, you must be the accountant?"

"I am," the woman confirmed. "Jade Moriarty."

She held out her hand. Her eyes were of a caramel colour and friendly. The pale nature of her skin contrasted with her dark green hair which stopped just past her chin and had a chartreuse streak off to the side of her face. I wondered if this was the reason for her name or if perhaps she changed her appearance to better match it.

"Juniper H.-," I stopped myself. "Juniper Watson. I live with Miss Holmes."

"Oh, I see. It seems I will have to return at another time then, seeing that she is not here," she said, picking up her briefcase.

"Oh, no, I will be glad to handle Shirleigh's business on her behalf, especially if it saves you another, and more than likely, fruitless trip."

She appeared to be taken aback at first but smiled in agreement and I led her up the stairs to our flat.

"I remember running into you several weeks ago," Moriarty said, placing her briefcase on the table and opening it. "Did you just move in?"

"Yes," I answered. "In fact, the night we bumped into each other was my first night here."

"Really? So you've only been here a couple of weeks, then?"

I nodded.

"I wonder if you're the reason that she's been so busy lately."

"What do you mean?"

She removed a few envelopes from the briefcase before closing it and setting it on the ground beside her.

"Miss Holmes never left this flat often," she told me. "She wasn't a shut-in or anything, she just felt that it was unnecessary. She would visit the shops down the street from time to time to complete errands, but that was as much fresh air as she got. Frankly, I started to worry about her health."

Moriarty had her hands folded atop the papers on the table. Her once jovial expression had turned to one of a melancholic nature and I suppose the silence that followed her words lasted a bit too long for she let out a weak laugh and smiled in my direction.

"But now that you're here, she seems to be getting out more at least."

"I can see why you would be worried," I said. "But Miss Holmes is in great physical health. It honestly surprised me a little when I first met her."

"Yes, well," Moriarty laughed again, only this time there seemed to be actual happiness in it. "She certainly has an interest in the most intriguing activities. Have you seen her spar?"

"Spar?" I asked. "As in...martial arts?"

Moriarty giggled to herself when she saw my amazement.

"I won't say much," she said. "It's better if you experience her antics first-hand. She really is something."

"You must have been her accountant for a while," said I, sitting across from her. "You sound like you know a lot about her."

I placed my hands in my lap and stared down at them. Talking about Shirleigh with Moriarty started to make my mind wander. Even though I lived with Shirleigh and shadowed her during her investigations, I felt as though I would never really know all there is beneath the mask she seemingly wears. Hearing other people speak of her vexed me in a way, I am unsure why. Why did I want so desperately to know more about someone whom I have only known for a mere fortnight?

"Is something troubling you?"

Moriarty's voice shook me from my thoughts and when I lifted my head, her bronze eyes were peering at me, a hint of worry behind them.

"I'm fine," I waved a hand, dismissing the idea. "Alright, what do you need me to do?"

A look of realisation crossed her face and it was apparent that she had forgotten that she was here to conduct business matters. She shuffled through the envelopes and papers before finding one that she wanted to focus on.

"It isn't much," she said, taking the pencil from behind her ear. "I just need to do some bookkeeping. If you know if Miss Holmes has received any payments in the last 14 days, it would help me immensely. As well as any paystubs or the like."

"Of course."

We spent about an hour talking in the living room. Most of the actual work was completed in the first half hour but we found ourselves in deep conversation about maths and sciences. She told me of her time learning accounting in school and I was astonished at how she was able to store so many numbers and formulas in her mind. I did not do very well in mathematics in college and barely passed those subjects. Luckily for me, becoming a doctor did not require complicated math.

"Will you be opening your own practice someday?" Moriarty inquired after I told her about my time in medical school.

"I would have loved to," I began. "Before I volunteered last month, I had begun looking into starting a residency. I wanted to become a surgeon and after becoming certified I would have opened my own offices to provide my own services."

"You speak in the past tense," Moriarty stated. "Do you not have an interest in doing all of that anymore?"

I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head.

"My volunteer work came to an end when I..." my voice grew quieter and I gathered my skirt in my fists. "I suffered an accident..."

There was a brief stillness and my prosthetic suddenly felt like it was constricting my thigh.

"It is but a temporary setback," Moriarty mumbled.

"Hm?"

"If it is something you truly want to do. If it is calling out to you, then it would not do to push it away."

I stared into her eyes, deep in thought.

"I'm sorry," she apologised, pushing up the glasses on her nose. "I usually don't speak so formally. It must be the atmosphere rubbing off on me."

I remained silent, flipping her words over in my mind. Shirleigh had told me something similar earlier today on our train ride to Salisbury regarding my writing.

"Of course," she said. "Only do what feels right to you. And always remain true to yourself."

Her smile beamed and I felt my shoulders relax. We had only met but it felt like we had known each other for ages. It was a nice feeling to speak with someone like Moriarty.

"Alright then," Moriarty said as she rose from the table. "I should be on my way. I don't want to chat your ear off. It was wonderful meeting you."

"Likewise," said I, showing her to the door. "I look forward to your next visit."

She left the flat but as I started to push the door closed, I noticed that she had stopped on the landing just before the stairs.

"Did you know that most of the light from the sun is actually green?" she said aloud without turning to look at me.

She hummed in thought before she descended the stairs.

I turned around and nearly stumbled backwards in the hall.

"Hey."

A person stood in the middle of the living room, where Moriarty and I had just been. They had their hands tucked away in the front pocket of their oversized jacket, a turtleneck peeking from the hood. Their hair was cut into a neat bob and dyed an ombré of different purples.

"Who?" I glanced around the room. "Where...?"

"This is for andrea Holmes," the mysterious person pulled a slip of paper from their pocket and handed it to me. "Gero arte."

Before I had a chance to say anything, I was left alone in the middle of the room in utter confusion.