Saving Grace(A Sherlock/BBC Fan-fiction)

Chapter Two: Gracie

        The taxi stopped outside of a flat. 221B Baker street to be exact. Mr. Holmes unlocked the door and lead us inside.

        "Mrs. Hudson!" 

~~~

        A very small woman gave us the key to 221C.

        "You had a look, didn't you, Sherlock, when you first came to see about your flat. Oh, whose this?"

        'I'm Grace Lestrade. Greg's sister."

        'I didn't know you had a sister."

        'Wow, love you two, brother dear." I said, turning to him.

        "The doors been opened recently."

        "No, it can't be. That's the only key. I can't get anyone interested in this flat. It's the damp I expect." The flat was dark, with the wallpaper peeling off of the walls. Nothing resided in the flat except a pair of sneakers.

        "Shoes." Mr. Holmes started towards them. "He' s a bomber, remember?" He got down on the floor and examined the shoes. We all jumped when the phone rang. Mr. Holmes slowly stood and answered it.

        "Hello?"

        "H-hello..." a crying woman answered."...Sexy."

        'Who is this?" 

        "I've sent you a little puzzle. Just to say hi.  It's for her too." They all looked at me.

        "Who's talking?" Mr. Holmes asked. "Why are you crying?"

        "I'm not crying. I'm typing and this stupid woman is reading it out." 

        "The curtain rises."

        "What?" Mr. Watson asked. 

        "Nothing."

        'No, what do you mean?"

        "I've been expecting this for some time."

        "You and Grace have twelve hours to solve my puzzle, Sherlock, or I'm going to be so naughty."

        "What could this possibly have to do with me?" I asked. "This person doesn't even know me?!"

        "For all we know...he does."

~~~

        We set off to Saint Bartholomew's hospital to examine the shoes. 

        "So, who do you suppose it was?" Mr. Watson asked.

        "Hmm?"

        "The woman on the phone, the crying woman?"

        "Oh, she doesn't matter, she's just a hostage.No lead there." Mr. Holmes replied.

        "What?" I asked, disgusted.

        "Oh for god's sake, I wasn't thinking about leads."

        "You're not going to be much use to her."

        "How could you be so insensitive?! A woman's life could be at stake here, and all you care about is leads?"

        "Like I told John, you're not going to be much use to her. Pass me my phone."

        'Where is it?" Mr. Watson asked.