SHERLOCK I, II, III & IV • #wattys2016

The Final Triangle

John nodded his head once and looked off into the dark room. He had never thought that an animal could commit suicide. Looking up at his friend, John said, “Right. So, you think the man who’s behind all this uses animals as his ‘weapons’?”

“It’s looking to be so. Where’s the duchess’s triangle? Perhaps she has colours on hers that tells us more. I know she had some besides white.” Sherlock scooted over next to John and he shook his fists in excitement. “Ah! Finally, a complicated, mind-boggling puzzle! You know how many clues we could find with another set of colours?”

Unlike Sherlock, John’s head ached at the thought. In a monotone voice, John replied wearily, “I cannot even imagine.” He swung his legs over the bed and went over to his jacket. Fishing inside its front pocket, he soon drew out Her Grace’s triangle. He tossed it over to Sherlock and returned to the bed.

Sherlock crawled over to the lamp and observed his new specimen. “Ah! Yes! More colours. Never been so happy to see colours in my life. Now, let’s see. Ah! I knew we had to have a red in here somewhere. And meaning that it’s on the duchess, it’s quite obvious he wants to kill her, or at least, harm her.”

“Kill her?” John’s attentions awoke and he hovered over Sherlock’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”

“Well, red can mean passion, aggression, war, and danger. I’m guessing that it means ‘danger’. For now, at least.”

“Do you suppose colours could also mean certain dates? Like, the next time he’s coming if you believe he is.”

Sherlock shrugged. “You can look into it, if you’d like. Sounds important enough.”

John reached out for his iPhone and began googling information. It only took him a minute to bring up a relevant page. “Here’s something, Sherlock. Synesthesia. It’s where people see numbers in certain colours.”

“Brilliant, John. See if the colours match up with anything there.”

“At 2:00 in the bloody morning? Oh, no, Sherlock, I can’t. I must sleep before I try to decipher, otherwise you’ll be getting a load maybe’s and I don’t know’s.”

“Won’t bother me.” He turned around clapped John on the shoulder. “We’ve got to use every second we have. While you do that, I’ll figure out the next message and hopefully we’ll get things together. Also, I’m going to look more into the collie. Something tells me he might be a clue as well.”

“Here we go, Sherlock. I found the colour codes in the form of numbers.” John handed his iPhone over to Sherlock and watched as the detective drank in the new information.

“How interesting. Well, John, looking at the colours we have here, I’m beginning to see a pattern. The first line of the message is, “Gold, blue, brown, white. Gold, purple, black. Blue, pink, black. White, blue, and black. Red.”

John stared at Sherlock with growing frustration. “Before I wring your neck for not telling me what the bloody hell that meant, I must at first congratulate you for even thinking of that. How? Don’t bother, I don’t want to know.”

“Thank you, John. It’s a matter of patterns and extraordinary talent; for I couldn’t explain to you exactly how I know it’s in that order. But the story fits.”

“And, what does the story mean?”

“In shortness, the colours translate to: Sherlock and John save the duchess. Sherlock's arrogance: downfall. John's emotions: downfall. The duchess's trust: downfall. Danger—that’s all I have right now.”

“That’s interesting. But that doesn’t sound any different from any of our other cases.”

Smirking, Sherlock bantered, “Well, my blogger, why don’t you look into those numbers and colours.”

“Right, I’ll get on to it.” John situated himself comfortably in the bed and began looking at the colour codes and their numerical meanings. He peeked at the colours Sherlock had found out and documented the possible dates. He also read countless web pages and tried to think of everything like a game. When he was finished, he came up with his final solution. “Sherlock, I think I’ve got it.”

“Tell me how you got it?”

“Well, I got three numbers. Two, two, and one.”

“And?”

“Not only does it stand for how many years since the first sighting of the Bermuda Triangle, which is 2010 minus the first sighting, 1789, but the numbers also stand for our address.”

“Clever!” Sherlock’s face glowed in excitement.

“Sadly, that’s all I discovered. I don’t know how to find the next time, sorry.” John tossed his phone aside and rubbed his sore eyes.

Sherlock was silent for a moment and took out his own phone. “I’ll text Lestrade. He might know more about this collie business.”

John crossed his arms and studied the detective. In an inquisitive tone, he said, “How did you know what that message meant by just the colours?”

“Experience. The person, or people, behind this case are no smarter than I. You just have to make simple things complicated and complicated things simple. That’s the only way I’ve learned to read their minds and play their games.  I do suggest, however, that you keep an eye on the duchess.” Sherlock propelled himself out of bed and grabbed his coat. He wrapped his scarf around his neck and headed for the door.

“Where are you off to?”

“Lestrade.”

“Oh, cheers,” John muttered as he sunk into the mattress in great exhaust. His eyes fluttered and then closed. At last! The doctor could sleep.