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"John? Are you awake?"
"Nnnnnghhh?"
"Are you awake?"
"Ugh. Nah."
"I need you to be awake, John."
"Wassup?"
"I need you to – no, don't move your head like that. It's going to hurt."
"Ow!"
"See? Now, listen. I need you to sit up as soon as you can. But you have to move slowly."
"Wha'?"
"No sudden movement, and especially no uncontrolled flailing of your left arm or – Yeah, exactly! Christ. Settle down. That's it. Lean against the thwart."
"The wha'?"
"The thwart. The bench. The thing people sit on in a small boat."
"Wha' boat?"
"It would help if you opened your eyes, John."
"Wha's happened? Still dark…"
"Two forty-four a. m., approximately."
"Whassat noise?"
"Do you mean the waves lapping gently against the hull, or the ringing in your head from being knocked unconscious by a brute wielding a cricket bat?"
"Ah… don't remember that."
"I'd be surprised if you did. He caught you in the head on the backswing when you popped up behind him to take him down before he could hit me. I really appreciated the gesture, though. Not your fault you failed to grasp my clever – "
"Chris' sake, Sherlock, shut up and get outta my face, or I'll - "
"Warn me if you're going to be seasick, please. I'm sure we can coordinate a bout of emesis over the side, should the need arise."
"I said get outta – Argh!"
"No flailing, remember?"
"I'm not flailing, I'm – what the fuck is – "
"That would be your right wrist handcuffed to my left wrist. I was just going to explain that there's a perfectly valid reason for our close physical proximity, or me being in your face, as you please to call it."
"That's not your – "
"No, that's the rowlock."
"The what?"
“The rowlock. A metal contraption attached to the washstrake above the gunwale for the purpose of holding the oars in place. This one is unfortunately designed in a peculiar fashion that allows one half of a pair of handcuffs to be threaded through the opening in the middle, so as to – Don't pull, John. It's solid stainless steel and fibreglass. I tried, it's no use."
"We're chained to a boat?"
"We're chained to a boat that's afloat on the River Thames on the ebb tide, with neither oar nor engine to control or direct our progress downriver, on a cold night at a quarter to three in the morning. I might also mention the absence of any life jackets or radio equipment, but I suppose that goes without saying."
"Fuck."
“Accurate. Are you awake enough now so we can start doing something about the situation?"
"Christ, Sherlock! How can you be so calm?"
"Is panicking going to save us from drowning? Sit down, John. There, on the thwart. Bench. Well done."
"Are we going to drown?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
“Several factors."
"Care to elaborate, genius?"
"Now, now, there's no need to get personal."
"Whose brilliant idea was it to – "
"You wanted to come, John! You insisted!"
"I thought we were going to stake out some nasty Albanian people smugglers. I didn't know I was signing my life away on a pleasure cruise down the Thames."
…
"Okay. Several factors?"
"Yes. Number one, the tide. Average flow speed of the Thames at ebb tide is approximately five miles per hour, but that's only an average. The rate decreases progressively the closer we get to low tide, until it becomes almost negligible."
"You mean we're getting slower every minute?"
"Yes."
"Somehow that sounds like a good thing. Just speaking as someone who's sat in a boat you can't steer or stop."
"It's not good if you're heading from Battersea to Hungerford Bridge on the ebb tide."
"What's at Hungerford Bridge?"
"The end of this rather dismal journey, I hope."
"That's nice to know. I'd prefer to take the tube next time."
"The tube doesn't run at night, John."
"You know what I mean. Why Hungerford Bridge?"
"Because that's the only bridge downriver from here whose pillars are built on a base that is low enough for us to reach from this little boat at ebb tide. It's still going to be a jump and a scramble, but it's doable."
"So that's where we'll be getting out? If we can get there in time and the tide isn't too low yet?"
"Nice to see you're following."
"Then what happens if we don't make it there in time, and the bridge is out of reach?"
"Then there's technically nothing to stop us being washed out to sea. Dawn doesn't break until quarter past six at this time the year. I doubt anyone would see or hear us once we've left the metropolis behind. But that's actually the less likely scenario."
"Is that supposed to be a comfort?"
"Scientific fact, John. You're forgetting the second factor."
"Which is?"
“The wind. It currently sits at north-east by east, meaning once we've passed Waterloo Bridge, we'd have it dead against us. Wind and tide in direct opposition means choppy seas, even this far inland. Which is not ideal when you have nothing to bail with. It's also bound to make the eddies and the undertows near the pillars of the bridges and the piers even stronger and more unpredictable than usual. So the combined effects of the wind and the tide would sink us long before we get anywhere near the open sea. But I'm confident that - "
"Sherlock – "
"What?"
"There's a bridge right ahead."
"Yeah, Vauxhall Bridge. We passed underneath Chelsea and Grosvenor Bridge when you were still out cold."
"What was that about eddies and undertows – "
"We'll be fine. We've got the wind from the side here, and I've taken care to position your unresponsive body in a way that gives the boat an additional slight list to the left, which should take us right through the middle arch. It's after that, after the bend, that you'll have to help me steer the boat clear of the southern bank and set our new course. I'll tell you where to lean. Just no sudden movements, like I said. We can't afford extremes we might not have the time to rectify."
"We're going to steer this boat with nothing but the distribution of our body weight?"
"Have you got any better ideas?"
"What happens if we hit the southern bank?"
"On this stretch of the river, bodies usually wash up at Limehouse Reach, but that can take days. I'd prefer Mycroft to know right away that his hunch was spot on. Plug that leak before more harm comes of it."
"Leak? We've got a leak?"
"Calm down, John. A metaphorical leak."
"What's Mycroft got to do with a bunch of Albanian people smugglers?"
"That coach depot we found them at belongs to Britain's leading provider of overland coach travel. And the lion's share of that company is owned by the family of the current Minister for Transport. Mycroft was wondering where exactly the uncharacteristically vehement opposition to that new bill introducing more checks and controls on this kind of travel originated from. I think we have the answer now, don't you? There's no need to duck your head, by the way. There's a good six feet between the top of your head and the arch above us."
"The current Minister for Transport profits from illegal people smuggling?"
"Fitting, isn't it? Would be stranger if it was the Minister for Culture, Media and Sport."
"And they put us in this rickety little boat that's barely seaworthy to send Mycroft some kind of message, about not wanting their business model undermined?"
"I dare say. Hungerford Bridge is only a stone's throw from Whitehall. We'll be able to deliver the message directly into Mycroft's own hands. Sit up straight, John, please, and then lean ever so slightly to your left. Let's set a course for Lambeth Bridge."
"Sherlock?"
"Mmh?"
"What happened to your nose?"
"Why?"
"It's bleeding. I saw it in the lights from the bridge just now."
"It's definitely not bleeding."
"Yes, it is."
"Not any more. Coagulation was complete ten to fifteen minutes ago."
"So they got you, too? With the cricket bat?"
"I think it was a shoe, actually, but I'm not entirely sure. I was keeping my eyes closed at the time."
"You mean on purpose?"
"Of course on purpose. Lean left, John."
"Okay - oh, damn. Is that – "
“The wind, yes. Don't worry about it. It's working in our favour on this stretch of the journey."
"Are you – are you saying that you let them beat you up on purpose?"
"Yes. Do keep up. It was either pretend to be knocked out as well, just like you were, and let them stage their little message, or keep fighting and be unceremoniously dumped in the river already dead. We were outnumbered eight to one, in case you had no time to count them. Sixteen to one once you were down. I know when to be a hero and when to decline that honour."
"Oh, boy. Not always."
"Keep to the left, John."
"Doing my best. So we were at a coach depot when they caught us, right? How on earth did you know they were going to put us in a boat on the river?"
"One of the gang has a day job at the boating lake in Battersea Park. We're in one of those boats. 'Barely seaworthy' is a gross exaggeration, by the way. This one is fully functional, or would be if they'd bothered to give us the oars as well."
"And you could tell his job from the way he tied his shoelaces, or something?"
"I could tell it from the company logo on his t-shirt, John."
"Okay. So – watch out!"
"What for?"
“That pylon! Aren't we too close – Christ, Sherlock!"
"Don't worry. The boat may be small, but the hull is very solid. A few scratches won't make a difference."
"They make a difference to my nerves."
"Just Westminster Bridge now, John, and we're there."
"Oh, just is nice. What did I do, to deserve hanging over the edge of a tiny rowing boat in the pitch dark, nursing a concussion and narrowly escaping being crushed to death every few hundred yards?"
"Look, there's Big Ben already."
"Lovely. How's our timing?"
"Excellent. We're going faster than I had anticipated."
"That's good to know. So you actually pretended to be out cold to – "
"As much to listen to their conversation, actually, as to save our lives."
"Anything interesting?"
"They mostly just contradicted themselves."
"What do you mean?"
“They were calling us idiots, but referring to their bosses and some of their other contacts by name. Mentioned times, too, and places, and prices, and all that."
"Really?"
“Mmh."
"Are you smirking, Sherlock?"
"I may be."
"So we know who the small fry are, at least."
"Mycroft will take care of the big fry, now we know of the connection."
"If they're Albanian, why a cricket bat of all things?"
"Trying to blend in with the natives, I suppose."
"Hmmph."
"That's Westminster Bridge up ahead, John. Peaceful, isn't it?"
"What is?"
"London by night."
"Is that supposed to be a joke, Sherlock?"
"No, seriously. This is the UK's busiest inland waterway. You'd think we'd have come within hailing distance of anyone who might throw us a rope by this point, but we haven't."
"You have thought this through, haven't you? Our escape plan?"
"Of course, John."
"Then tell me one thing. How are we both going to jump off this boat onto the base of one of the pillars at Hungerford Bridge if we're handcuffed to the oarlock? We can hardly –
"Rowlock."
“Whatever. We can hardly pull the boat up there with us."
"We could try."
"Seriously?"
"You're still ducking your head under every bridge, John."
"Instinct. Don't change the subject."
"Hungerford Bridge is three bridges, actually. The old one for the trains in the middle and the twin ones on each side for pedestrians, also known as the Golden Jubilee Bridges. Those have their own pylons. This creates interesting patterns in the eddies as the water swirls between the unusually close-set foundations of two entirely separate constructions. A hydrodynamic slalom course, if you like, which should make it possible to – "
"Great. Whatever. Time this was over. My feet are wet through."
"What? Wet as in – "
"Wet as in water, Sherlock, swirling in interesting eddies at the bottom of this boat. Ice-cold water, I might add. We happen to be in November."
"Well, that shouldn't be too big a problem for the last few – "
"Hang on, are you saying – "
"Sit still, John, please. We don't want to - "
"There is a leak, isn't there? Christ, there's more water coming in by the second! Sherlock, we're fucking sinking!"
"No, we're not. At least we won't before – "
"Well, I don't want to go to the bottom of this river chained to the wreckage of this goddamn nutshell! I'm getting out my torch to signal SOS now! Christ, why didn't I think of this before? We could still – whoa!"
"Steady on, John. Don't complicate the situation by getting washed overboard too soon, please. They took your torch and both our phones and even our watches, or I'd have used the pin on the buckle to pick the lock of the handcuffs twenty minutes ago."
"We're going faster!"
"Yes, in spite of the incoming water. That's the undertow pulling us in. Right, sit up. When I say now, stand up and –
"The boat's turning! Sherlock, watch out! There's the pylon! Ow!"
“Hold fast, John!"
"God, we're spinning!"
“That's the pillar of the – oof! – the railway bridge, and – "
"Aaaaahhhhh! Holy shit!"
"John, now! Jump!"
"Sherlock! Sherloooooock!"
"I've got you!"
"The fucking boat's breaking apart! We've wrecked the whole fucking thing!"
"Exactly! That's – exactly – what – There! We're free! Go on, take my hand! Mind your leg - "
"Ow!"
"Get up there, up – up – "
"I'm trying!"
"Just one more – "
"Yeah, I'll – God – "
"That's it – that's it, John. Christ, we've done it. Yeah, hold on. It's fine. It's all fine now."
…
"Sherlock?"
"Mmh?"
"Are you awake?"
"Mmh."
"Did you hear that?"
"What?"
"People on the bridge, I think. Up – there, somewhere."
"Have they seen us?"
“I think so. 'Can't think of a more romantic place to make out in all of London, can you, guys?' were the words, I believe."
"We're not making out."
"I'm literally lying on top of you."
"Yeah, that's nice and warm, actually."
"People will talk, you know."
“Seems they already do."
"Think we might persuade them to call the Thames Water Police for us?"
"Why would we do that?"
“Because you just crashed someone else's boat against a pylon of Hungerford Bridge on purpose. I'm pretty sure that's illegal. Besides, we're both hypothermic. We need to get moving. And not sure about you, but I could do with a hot shower and a nice cup of tea."
"You may have a point. Oy, on the bridge, there! Can you call 999 and order a hot shower and a nice cup of tea to 221B Baker Street in twenty minutes?"