The Adventure of the Gold-Engraved Box - Part 5

I awoke, feeling as if I had been asleep for some weeks, to the sight of Sherlock Holmes; he hovered over my bed, intently searching my face for some sign of recovery. I felt somewhat better, yet Holmes insisted I stay still while he rang for tea.


Holmes had moved me to my bedroom, and situated a chair at my bedside from which he tended to me while I was unconscious (which, as he later confirmed, was precisely twelve minutes).


Holmes returned not five minutes later. "Mrs. Hudson is bringing tea," he announced as he returned to my bedside. "I trust you are feeling well enough for me to leave you?" I noticed then that he had acquired his walking stick in his absence.



"A little light-headed, but I am sure I will be fine," I assured him. "You are leaving?"



Holmes nodded. "Mrs. Hudson is accompanying me to Hyde Park. We may not return for some time."





I nodded my understanding as Mrs. Hudson entered with my tea. She situated it and bade farewell to me as she and Holmes left. Holmes, as usual, remained silent as he followed the landlady out the door.





As I heard the front door close, a strange feeling poured over me. I leaned into my pillows, hoping and praying for my friends' safety.





~ * ~





After a time, I felt well enough to move to the settee in the sitting room. As I settled in with a copy of the Times I heard the door open and the sound of heavy footsteps on the stair. They were very slow and uneven, as if someone were limping.





Before I had time to think, I turned to see Holmes stumble into the room and lean on his desk near the door, breathing heavily. I rose quickly, wondering what was happening. Before I could offer to help, Holmes had somehow made it to his arm chair and collapsed, without even removing his coat. He didn't utter a sound.





"Holmes! What on earth has happened?" I cried, forgetting about my own recent ailment.





Holmes massaged his temples with his fingertips, leaving smudges of dirt and blood on them. "It's nothing, Watson, please consider your own condition..."





I would not hear of it, and ran to my room for my medical supplies. I could see, both as a doctor and a friend, that Holmes was in serious pain, and it was my job to relieve him of it.





I returned and began examination. His overcoat was torn in several places, some revealing cuts and bruises. He also sported a black eye and several bruises on his face, and a large cut on the back of his hand bled profusely.





Despite Holmes' pleas to consider my health, I cleansed and bound his wounds. I had done it before, and was sure to do it again in the future. I refused to acknowledge his pleas until he had told me what had transpired during his absence, and what had happened to Mrs. Hudson.





"Mrs. Hudson brought the box to the bench in the park," Holmes said. "I kept away a safe distance - far enough not to be seen, but close enough to see her and keep her from danger.





"Then a man appeared, seemingly out of nowhere - your man, Watson."





Here I interrupted him. "Clearly you know the name of 'my man,'" I said angrily. "You seem determined to keep it from me. Who is this man?" I demanded.





I had begun to apply ointment to his eye when Holmes grabbed my wrist tightly. I wondered whether it was to emphasize what he was about to tell me, or to keep me from touching his eye. He closed his eyes.





"Watson," he drew a long breath. "You did not think Miss Baylor's visit strange, when her fiancee stayed outdoors with the hansom?"





"Oh no," I exclaimed, guessing at what he was about to tell me.





Holmes' eyes remained shut. "He knew you would recognise him. Your man," he opened his eyes and released my wrist, "is Miss Baylor's fiancee, Johnathan Hawkins."





My hands fell to my lap unconsciously, as I thought this over. "But why? Is he working for..."





"Moriarty, partially." Holmes finished my sentence. "He wants the jewels more for himself, I believe." He took the ointment from me and began applying it himself.





"He has been masquerading as Miss Baylor's lover, now fiancee, because he knew she could give him the key to the box. Not willingly, but unknowingly. She has been nothing more than a pawn in this evil game," he added. "This plan has been carefully orchestrated - from the timing of the notes to Hawkins's 'courtship' with Miss Baylor - it all bears the mark of a greater mind - Moriarty." Holmes finished applying the ointment and returned it to me. "I shall explain later. But now," he rose and removed his torn overcoat, "we are expecting a visitor."





"A visitor," I echoed questioningly. Then I realized that, during the chaos of dressing Holmes' injuries, I had forgotten about Mrs. Hudson. "Wait. Where is Mrs. Hudson?"





Holmes turned to me, his face grave. "Watson," he said slowly. "You have not realised...no, of course not," he mumbled, turning away.





"Holmes," I pressed.





"Mrs. Hudson is being held hostage until Hawkins finds the jewels. He is a greedy man, Watson. He has rushed Moriarty's plan in such a way that it has begun to crumble."





I was shocked. "Whatever do you mean?"





"I didn't arrive to you dead."





At this I was astounded. I had assumed it was a fight with Hawkins, not a murder conspiracy. "He left you for dead?"





Holmes nodded. "However, Hawkins is consumed by greed. And he is a coward. The two work together wonderfully in making the common criminal predictable. Now," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Our visitor has arrived."





He rose slowly and limped to his room, removing the bag of jewels from the mantle and giving it to me. "Put them in your dressing gown pocket," he commanded.





I did as he said as I watched him retreat to his room and close the door, leaving me alone to greet the unknown visitor.






~ * ~





I was seated on the settee when Billy burst in. He barely uttered that a Mr. Hawkins was present to see me when the man himself pushed past him into the room. I thanked Billy and sent him off with a wave of my hand.





"Mr. Hawkins, how nice to see you again," I said, attempting to remain calm and composed. I fingered the bag of jewels in my pocket.





"No need for games, Doctor," Hawkins announced gruffly.





"Games? I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean." I attempted to stall him, hoping Holmes was nearby and that I understood what I was doing. Holmes obviously had a plan, yet I had no idea what it was.





"You must know where the jewels are," he said, inching closer to where I sat. "Sherlock Holmes has been on the case. You knew they were not in the box, yet you sent your landlady to deliver it anyway. Where are they?"





I took a deep breath, in attempt to conceal my anxiety. "I do not know," I said. "Would you care for tea?"





Hawkins reached into his coat-pocket and drew a pistol half way out, just enough for me to see. "I said no games."





I tried again. "I would prefer not to conduct business while Holmes is out," I said. "This is his flat, you know."





Hawkins lunged forward and seized my wrist, twisting it hard. Pain shot up my arm and I winced, hoping for Holmes to come to my rescue.





"You must not have heard, John Watson," he said. "Sherlock Holmes is dead. Got into a street fight, he did." He smiled cruelly. "Now, hand them over."





"Dead?" I tried to sound surprised and upset. So he didn't know that Holmes had returned. I coughed. "Alright," I said as calmly as possible, my arm aching with pain. "You may have them. As soon as you inform me of where Mrs. Hudson is."





Hawkins growled. "She's safe, that's all you need to know."





Then my assailant unexpectedly loosened his grip on my arm and stumbled backward, a surprised expression on his face. I massaged my arm and turned around to see Holmes in the doorway, his pistol cocked and pointed at the criminal.









I breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing my friend, but when I turned around, I stiffened as I watched Hawkins discreetly direct his own pistol at my friend. He was still shocked by the discovery.









"You should be dead!" He said gruffly. His expression changed from one of surprise to nervousness.









Holmes chuckled. "I was never dead, Hawkins. You knew that. You would never kill a human being so brutally. Beat them up, yes. But not outright murder."









I winced. Holmes was inviting trouble.









"No. To beat a man until he is nearly dead, then leave him to die, takes some of the guilt away. Am I correct?"









Hawkins returned this with a momentary look of alarm, before becoming angry. He cocked his pistol, and I sent up a silent prayer for Holmes's safety.









"You're a coward Hawkins. A coward. You know that. Joining with Moriarty gave you an excuse to get what you wanted, because you weren't brave enough to get it yourself."









Hawkins pointed his pistol at me. "I'll shoot your friend if you don't tell me how you got back here in one piece."









I realised then that Hawkins was worried; thinking harder, I realised that I didn't even know how Holmes had come back in his condition.









While I was pondering, I felt the cold, clammy metal barrel of the gun on my forehead. I felt sick again, and was afraid of going unconscious in my friend's time of need.









I could still see Holmes from my position in the chair. He was smiling.









"You wouldn't shoot Watson. You can't. As I've said before, you're a coward. I myself would have died were it not for the help of one of my....shall we say, acquaintances?"









Hawkins turned pale, but didn't move or utter a sound.









Holmes turned serious again. "Release Watson," he commanded.









Hawkins shook his head.









Then Holmes, in a split second, raised his pistol above his head and fired. The shot rang through the little flat. I flinched, but Hawkins didn't move a muscle.









All was silent for a moment before Hawkins allowed a smile to creep on his face. "You've wasted a bullet, Mr. Holmes. Shall I make it even?"









Just then, I heard footsteps on the stairs, and a familiar voice called out.









"Johnathan Hawkins, you are under arrest for attempted murder and theft!"









~*~









Inspector Lestrade and his men entered the room to arrest the criminal. I was feeling very ill, and afraid of going unconscious again. I leaned into the chair and closed my eyes. Holmes was by my side in a few short moments, but to me it seemed like an eternity.









"Watson," he said softly as he pressed his good hand against my forehead. "Are you alright? You look quite ill."









"As well as can be expected, I suppose," I murmured.









"I am terribly sorry I had to put you through this, Watson."









I opened my eyes and looked at him, as he moved his hand to pat my shoulder. I could see his apology was genuine. Holmes never was one for apologising.









Before I could say anything, Holmes limped toward Lestrade. After exchanging a few words, the inspector handed Holmes the pistol. Then he returned to me, and Lestrade, his men, and Hawkins retreated.









Holmes seated himself beside me on the settee and arranged the pistol on his lap. "I hope you aren't too badly shaken, old fellow," he said.









By then I was feeling a little bit better. "I will be fine," I assured him, as I massaged my bruised wrist.









"Good," he said quickly. Then, almost as if he were embarrassed by his concern for me, he turned to the pistol. After inspecting it for a moment, he declared, "As it should be."









Upon my questioning him, he turned the pistol to face me. He had opened the chamber. It was empty.









Relief flooded through me, then anger. "But why carry an empty pistol around? I nearly had a heart attack!"









"As you heard me say, the man is a coward. He only scares people. He has never directly murdered anyone. I never would have hurled those insults at him if I hadn't known it wasn't loaded."









"Yes, but I was still terribly frightened," I pointed out. Then I remembered Mrs. Hudson, and asked Holmes about her.









He smiled. "She should be arriving any moment. Hawkins is not one for keeping secrets under pressure."









~*~









As sure as his word, Mrs. Hudson entered the room shortly after, escorted by a policeman. She appeared shaken, but not harmed. She seated herself on the chair across from Holmes and I.









"Are you two alright?" she asked, composing herself. "You look as if you've seen a ghost!"









I shook my head in wonderment. The kindly landlady had just been returned from a frightening experience as a hostage, and she was concerned for her tenants' well being! Holmes shook his head, clearly thinking the same thoughts as I.









Mrs. Hudson wasn't finished. "What is going on? Mr. Holmes, it's clear you are keeping a secret from me."









Holmes smiled and held out his hand to me. I pulled the pouch out of my dressing gown pocket and passed it to him. He opened the bag passed it to Mrs. Hudson, who emitted a sound I took to be a gasp.









"Mr. Holmes! However did you find them?"









"That is a story for another day. But now, I must send for Miss Baylor. Hopefully she will be available to arrive on short notice. Watson, send for Billy immediately."









~*~









Holmes and I spent the evening in peace, musing over the events of the past days. With Hawkins safe under lock and key, we need not worry over Mrs. Hudson anymore. She was free to go about as she pleased; according to Holmes, Moriarty would not dare to emerge from his hiding places until the scandal had quieted, which could be for some time.









Holmes had dispatched Billy with a telegram for Miss Baylor. She responded quickly, stating that she would arrive at tea-time the following day.









I pressed Holmes for an explanation of the case and the events that had transpired since my illness that morning, but he would not respond. He lounged in his arm chair, smoking his pipe and starting at the ceiling most of the night, until I re-dressed his wounds and retired to bed. I was surprised to hear Holmes retire shortly after - he rarely went to bed at regular hours.


I pondered the events of the day, running them over and over in my head. I could not see how my intelligent friend had come to solve the case in such a short amount of time, nor how he could have been sure that Hawkins' gun wasn't loaded. But, I supposed, he would come to that in time. For now, I would have to be content with waiting until tea-time.





~*~

The following morning was uneventful as well. Holmes was not restless, as he usually was the morning after a successfully concluded case; he lounged around as he had the previous evening, following my strict orders to rest. We enjoyed a lovely breakfast of Mrs. Hudson's, grateful that she was feeling well enough to cook, and while Holmes read his copy of the Chronicle I began the first draft of our previous adventure.

Around 2 o'clock, Mrs. Hudson introduced Miss Baylor into the room.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes, Doctor," Miss Baylor said. She appeared flustered and tired. I invited her to seat herself across from my friend.

Holmes and I nodded to acknowledge greeting. Mrs. Hudson turned to go, but was interrupted by Holmes.

"Mrs. Hudson, do stay and have some tea," he invited.

"I daresay I shall," she replied happily. I ushered her to the place on the settee beside Miss Baylor, but she declined politely and went to pour us our tea.

Holmes cleared his throat. "No doubt you are curious as to why I've sent for you, Miss Baylor?"


Miss Baylor folded her hands in her lap. "Yes, sir, I am very curious..."


I could see something was troubling her, and could guess what it was. I decided not to intrude on her privacy, and questioned her instead. "Is something the matter?"


Miss Baylor look at me, with a tear in her eye. "My fiancee had agreed to come to dinner with my family last evening, but he never arrived. I haven't heard a word from him since yesterday; it is all very uncharacteristic of him, and I'm worried." She dabbed at her tears with a lace handkerchief. "No need to trouble you with my worries, though."

Holmes shook his head. The news hadn't reached as far as Derbyshire then.


"Miss Baylor," Holmes said gently. "I'm afraid I have some very bad news."


Our lady visitor emitted a gasp and blanched. I was by her side in a moment's notice, ready to help if she fainted. This news would most likely be too much for her to bear with her nervous condition.


Holmes allowed her a moment to recover before resuming. "Johnathan Hawkins has been arrested, for both attempted murder and theft. I'm afraid he is not who he pretended to be. He is a criminal who works with the criminal underworld of London." He paused to let the words sink in.

Miss Baylor, at the very first words, had begun to sob into her handkerchief. I did all that I could to comfort her, but nothing helped the matter. I turned to Holmes, who was watching our guest with concern in his eyes. He said nothing.

~*~

Mrs. Hudson returned with the tea a quarter of an hour later. Miss Baylor had by then recovered some, but was still distressed. Holmes was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed.

Our landlady did not appear disturbed by the strange sight in our sitting room; she went around, pouring tea as if we were at a tea-party before seating herself beside Miss Baylor.


No one spoke for some time. Miss Baylor pulled at the lace on her handkerchief absentmindedly, while Mrs. Hudson kept adding sugar cubes to Holmes' tea. I kept my eyes on Holmes, who never stirred or made a sound. It was most awkward.


"Holmes," I began, hoping for some acknowledgement of our company.

Holmes sat upright. "Ah, yes, Watson." He rubbed his hands together. "Is everyone enjoying their tea?"


This statement was so uncharacteristic of him that Mrs. Hudson and I began to laugh. I could see an amused smile play at the corners of Holmes' mouth.

This lightened the mood somewhat. Then Holmes began to explain the events of the past few days. Everyone, especially Miss Baylor, listened intently.



~*~


"Three days ago, Mrs. Hudson entered the room at a very uncanny hour. She appeared disturbed. This note," he drew it out of his pocket, "was the cause of her distress.

"After interviewing Billy, I knew that something strange was going on; the commoner would not leave a note such as this one taped to a door. It is very vague, and would require its author to explain the contents in detail.

"The fact that the author of the note had printed it, and then left it attached to the door at such a strange hour, suggested to me that he was attempting remain unidentified. Upon closer examiniation of the note, it was discovered that the handwriting was heavy, suggesting that the author was, indeed, a man.

"Then came Watson's incident at Hyde Park. He was approached by a strange, unknown man - tall, and of muscular build, with dark hair - who appeared to the commoner as a friendly acquaintence. Caught up in conversation, he forgot to ask the man his name.

"Watson was able to fully describe him to me. This helped in forming the connections. The man he described precicsely fit the description of a certain Johnathan Hawkins, whom I knew to be involved with petty thefts in previous years. I had never acquired enough evidence to convict him, as he would lay low for awhile after each crime before returning to the trade.

"I decided not to take up the pointless task of trying to find him and his accomplices - there would not be any presentable evidence, which would prevent his arrest. I had previously returned with this box," he held it up, "after going about the city of London disguised as the original owner, wishing to retrieve it due to some family scandal over it.

"As you see, I was able to recover the box. I spent some time examining it, before attempting to open it. According to Mrs. Hudson, the box appraised at worth nothing - not even a shilling.







"Because of this information I was able to tenitavely confirm my suspicions - the box, though believed it was worthless, was actually very valuable. I had not yet determined why, but, if Hawkins was after it, there must be something worth pursuing; perhaps inside the box.







"I was able to open the box after some time. The outside lock was unlike anything I've ever seen before; it required pressure on certain petals from each flower. Once opened, another set of locks under the lid prevented me from further investigation. I would have dispatched a telegram to you, Miss Baylor, except it would not have made it to Derbyshire until morning. By then I would have arrived.







"When I arrived at the Baylor's the butler informed me that the entire family was out, and would not be returning until the afternoon. This was somewhat disheartening, as it slowed down the investigation. I returned to Baker Street to find another note, this time warning Mrs. Hudson of danger if she did not follow the orders.







"This drew my attention. Mrs. Hudson would have to be kept under close supervision until the end of the investigation. It was then that I remembered an article I had glanced over in the Times of a fortnight ago. Scotland Yard had made another attempt at finding the missing Crown Jewels of Scotland."





At this Miss Baylor and Mrs. Hudson both gasped.





"The crown jewels?" Miss Baylor cried.





Holmes nodded, then resumed. "Without success, however. At this point I was beginning to speculate that the man behind the plan was Moriarty - Hawkins was not smart enough to orchestrate the timing of the notes with the article on his own. It was a small article...





I agreed aloud. I had missed the article entirely.





"I wondered if he had somehow involved himself with Miss Baylor. Moriarty would have informed him of the family connections by then.





"Everything was confirmed when you arrived, Miss Baylor, at my orders. Your fiancee remained outdoors, while the interview was conducted."





My friend paused in his narrative. "Miss Baylor, Hawkins did not return with you to Derbyshire that day."





Miss Baylor confirmed this by shaking her head sadly. "I thought nothing of it. He would not climb back into the cab, insisting that he had some minor buisness to attend to - he would meet me at Barton's for dinner, he said."





Holmes folded his hands. "Of course. His business consisted of watching the flat, to catch Mrs. Hudson on the way out to perform any tasks.





"Before you left, you informed me of your Scottish heritige. You brought with you a journal, which, upon examination, revealed the combonation for the second lock; by decoding a single entry, then solving an anagram, I was able to unlock the box.





"This, however, only resulted in a yellowed piece of parchement being revealed. I must admit this was slightly disappointing, but refused to become discouraged. I examined the parchment and found the message on it to be written in short hand, of which I know a little.





"I became distracted for a moment, translating the message. Watson, however, noticed that the proportions of the box were incorrect, and this led to his discovery of the second chamber. We opened it together, and he drew out the pouch, which, I had confirmed, contained the missing crown jewels.





"The pieces were fitting together nicely. A plan began to formulate; this would be the opportune time to catch a villian that has been roaming free for years, thieving and eluding capture. He was after the missing crown jewels, associating with Moriarty, and leaving threatening notes intended for our completely innocent landlady.



"Unfortunately, Watson fell ill yesterday upon discovery of the jewels and became unconscious. I was not able to acquire his help to execute my plan. I had to make a few adjustments, and, leaving Watson at Baker Street, Mrs. Hudson and I walked to Hyde Park.



"I followed Mrs. Hudson at a discreet distance - anyone keeping their attention focused on the landlady with the gold-engraved box would not notice Sherlock Holmes strolling the walkways with his cane.



"I finally settled myself on a park bench several hundred feet away from Mrs. Hudson, in a small grove of willow trees which succeeded in hiding me from view. I watched as Mrs. Hudson placed the box under the bench and began walking back to Baker Street. I remained seated, intending to follow her to the flat to ensure her safety. It was then I noticed a strange man - not Hawkins - lurking in the shadows behind the tall elm tree.



"I glanced around without discovering any more hidden men, and dashed out of my hiding place, but it was too late; the man had taken Mrs. Hudson while I had diverted my attention. I had no idea where they had gone. I ran to the clearing, hoping for some clue as to which direction they had gone, but found none.



"As I paused to sort my thoughts, I heard the footfalls of someone approaching from behind. I turned just in time to see Hawkins, who, I must admit, appeard to have been expecting me.

"We exchanged words, and I, careful not to insult him, began to take leave of him. But he followed me, and when we had just passed the grove of willows he took hold of me and pulled me in.

"I must say that I am grateful to my previous days of boxing; without my knowledge on the subject I would surely be dead instead of sitting before you now. Hawkins left me for dead in the grove.

"I was able to pull myself to the edge of the grove before I collapsed; it was rather exhausting to perform such a small task. I lay still for a few moments before Lestrade appeared on the walkway, conversing with a small number of his men. He saw me lying in the grove and came to my aid, helping me to the flat. Thus how I came to be back at Baker Street in the condition you found me, Watson. I informed them that Hawkins would surely arrive at the flat and inquire about the jewels, and that I would have you prepared to meet him. They were to come to the sitting room when they heard the sound of a pistol firing - I could only pray that it was mine that they would hear."

Before he could continue, I interrupted him. "Holmes, why did you not inform me that the police were here? It would have caused me much less pain if I would have known for sure we were to be rescued!"

Holmes shook his head. "I was afraid that if you knew, Watson, your act wouldn't be as convincing as it was. Hawkins believed you were alone, and I was therefore able to catch him red-handed trying to take the jewels from you. If your act wasn't convincing, it would have been much less effecient in catching him - highly improbable, actually.

"Everything went according to plan. Lestrade responded quickly to my shot, and Hawkins was caught with a gun to Watson's head - it all lined up perfectly for a convincing case of attempted murder. Mrs. Hudson was returned to us - she had been kept in the abandoned restaurant on 43rd street - although her kidnapper was no where to be found."

Mrs. Hudson looked the most surprised out of the group. "And to think that all of this started with one little wedding-present!"

Holmes smiled. "That is the beauty of the case."

"Holmes," I began, "what will we do with the jewels? They are obviously property of the queen of Scotland..."

"No, Watson, they are not," Holmes said. At my confused look he added, "the journal states, on page 25 I believe, that Queen Mary Stuart gave the jewels to her maid, Ailsa Todd, as a wedding gift before she was executed."

I understood then. "Then they rightfully belong to..."

Holmes nodded, and I returned the jewels to him. "They rightfully belong to Miss Violet Baylor."

Miss Baylor covered her face with her hands, before reaching out to accept her treasure. "But I cannot..."

Holmes silenced her with a finger. "You shall. They are yours, Miss Baylor. Part of your heritage."

"But I cannot take all of them! You played the game for me - you performed the dirty tasks, and the hunting and decoding; why, you even came near death in a battle not your own! You deserve to be paid, at least." She reached into the velvet pouch and removed a small, red ruby, about two centimeters across, and handed it to Holmes. "As payment, and a reminder of what a great service you have done to me and the country of Scotland."

Holmes took the ruby gently and held it up to the light, examining it thoroughly. His emotions took over for a moment, and he wasn't able to speak. He recovered quickly, however, to say, "Thank you, Miss Baylor."

Then Miss Baylor reached in again and pulled out two small diamonds and passed one to me. I thanked her heartily and put it in my pocket.

She also handed one to Mrs. Hudson, but Mrs. Hudson refused.

"No, dear, I won't take one. I've had enough trouble with this box and jewel business as it is. You keep it."

Miss Baylor then embraced Mrs. Hudson, who appeared very pleased. Then she turned to me, and shook my hand gently, whispering a small 'thank you' into my ear. I rose to show her out.

Holmes also rose, despite his injuries, and shook Miss Baylor's hand. "A pleasure to work with you, Miss Baylor," he said. "And thank you."

Miss Baylor was surprised. "For what, might I ask?"

We moved toward the door, and Holmes laughed. "For relieving me of my seemingly monotonous life," he said.

Mrs. Hudson showed our guest to the door, and Holmes silently retreated to his bedroom, examining the ruby all the way.


I myself situated myself on the settee, inspecting my own gem. While looking it over, I heard Holmes begin to play one of my favorite violin concertos. I leaned back, listening, all the while silently pondering the adventure of the gold-engraved box.




(ta-da! After 3 whole months..actually more than that, but 3 is adequate...it's finally over! I hope y'all enjoyed it. I most certainly enjoyed writing ;D)