Goodbye, Sherlock

Chapter 3

Goodbye, Sherlock.

Chapter 3.

The black day.

Lestrade's POV.

The phone rang again. I was in the middle of a case, but they had called me at least three times.

"I'm sorry." I said to Sally.

It was an unknown number.

"Ya?"

"Detective inspector Lestrade?"

"Yes, who's calling?"

"I'm from Saint Bartholomew's hospital. We need you to come right now."

"What happened?"

"Is John Watson."

"What happened to him?!" I realized that I had said that too loud, because everybody was looking at me.

"He...jumped off a rooftop. He commited suicide."

The words felt like a punch in the stomach. John Watson, the man who was always smiling but who could also kill you... my friend... was gone.

"He's dead." I didin't realized I had said that out loud until the man answered:

"Yes, he's dead."

"I'm on my way."

I put the phone in my pocket and turned around to Sally.

"I have to go."

"But sir..."

"Shut up, Donovan!" It was the first time I had shouted her, but in that moment, that was one of the few things I wanted to do.

I called a cab.

I could remember perfectly our first case with John. Everybody thought about it as "the first case that Sherlock Holmes and John Watson solved together", but it had also been my first one with him. I remember that I thought he wasn't really important, I thought he wouldn't last, I couldn't even imagine that he would become Sherlock's friend.

Sherlock...

Where he was? Why had the called me instead of him? Well, he never answered the phone but, anyway, why was John alone? Why was he dead?

****

"Are you detective inspector Lestrade?" A doctor asked.

"Yeah, it's me."

"Please, follow me, we need you to reconigze the body."

"Oh... oh okay. Sure. Yeah."

We went into the morgue. John's body was inside a plastic bag. Just as all the bodies in all the cases. He opened it. They had cleaned his body, so there was no blood in his face. His eyes were closed and his hair was wet because of the water they had used to clean him. It was John. Of course it was John.
I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. It was like at any moment he would wake up and start talking about their next case. About how amazing Sherlock was. Sherlock. He should be there. Not me. He was his best friend.

"Where's Sherlock?"

"Who's Sherlock?"

"Sherlock Holmes. The world's only consulting detective. He should be here. Does he knows about this?"

"I don't know what are you talking about." The man closed the plastic bag where John was and I sighed. "But I have something for you."

"For me?"