SOCIOPATH'S ROMANCE // Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Chapter 15 - The Great Game part 3

A little while later, the trio hailed a cab towards Baker Street to continue solving the case from home. 

"Nineteen eighty-nine, a young kid – champion swimmer – came up from Brighton for a school sports tournament; drowned in the pool. Tragic accident. You wouldn't remember it. Why should you?" 

"But you remember." Y/n said. 

"Yes." 

"Something fishy about it?" asked John. 

"Nobody thought so – nobody except me. I was only a kid myself. I read about it in the papers."

A grin spread on Y/n's face and John teased, "Started young, didn't you?" 

Sherlock continued his tale, ignoring the reactions from the other two, "The boy, Carl Powers, had some kind of fit in the water, but by the time they got him out it was too late. But there was something wrong; something I couldn't get out of my head." 

Y/n's head perked up, "What was it?" 

"His shoes." the detective answered, quite simply. 

However, John needed the explanation or at least the link to the trainers they had been studying at St-Barts, "What about them?" 

"They weren't there. I made a fuss; I tried to get the police interested, but nobody seemed to think it was important. He'd left all the rest of his clothes in his locker, but there was no sign of his shoes ..." Sherlock lifted the clear pastic bag containing the boy's shoes, "... until now." 

. 。・゜✭・.・✫゜・。.

 Sherlock and Y/n had recluded to 221b's small kitchen to further on the Carl Powers case. They both sat at the small wooden table, in front of each other. For once, it wasn't covered in beakers, bunsen burners and other scientific equipment, instead being put to use for the case.  On one side was placed the bag with the trainers, still unopened since their arrival, whereas the rest of the table was cluttered and strewn with photographs, articles and newspapers concerning Carl's morbid accident.  On the other side of the closed doors, John had been pacing back and forth for a while now, hesitant as to if he should enter or not. Finally, he ceased and slid one of the doors open to enter. 

"Can I help?" he offered. Upon the silence that fell, he repeated, "I want to help. There's only five hours left." His phone chimed in his pocket once and he pulled it out to see,  "It's your brother. He's texting me now. How does he know my number?" 

"Texted me as well, Mycroft can get everyone's numbers." Y/n explained, tossing aside an old newspaper, " In two minutes, Mrs Hudson will most probably receive a message concerning Andrew West as well. " she finished with a grin, looking up from the print outs to John's exasperated face. 

"Must be a root canal." Sherlock stated plainly, ignoring John's comments. 

"Look, he did say 'national importance.' " John added, sounding a bit worried. He leaned against the doorframe, expecting any form of understanding and realisation that this was indeed important. 

Instead, Sherlock answered, "How quaint." 

"What is?" 

"You are. Queen and country." he said, slightly mocking in his tone. He had picked up a newspaper and darted across the lines before placing it to the side as well. 

"You can't just ignore it." John pressed on, standing his ground. 

"I'm not ignoring it. Putting my best man onto it right now."