Hello Detective

A Study in Pink Part 6

Finally our cab pulled up to John and Sherlock's new flat. I paid the cabbie the small fare and stormed up the stairs to Sherlock. I was upset that he left the two of us at the crime scene without a single word. Neither John nor I had known our way around the city. Sherlock and I both knew we were going to have to work together on this case and he left anyway. He was going to have to change his ways of solidarity if this partnership was going to work.

When I walked through the door I found Sherlock lying on the couch with nicotine patches all over his forearm.

"Forget something?" I asked, ushering John through the door. He didn't look up to either of us.

"What are you doing?" I asked strictly.

"Nicotine patch. Helps me think." He said, his eyes still pointed towards the ceiling. "Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain work." He said.

"Well it's good news for breathing." I said, still annoyed.

"Ugh! Breathing! Breathing's boring." Sherlock groaned.

"Is that three patches?" I asked, grabbing his arm.

"It's a three-patch problem." He said, yanking it back.

"Well, you asked me to come. I'm assuming it's important." John said.

"Wait. He texted you and you didn't tell me?" I said to John. Dear God, these guys will be the death of me, I thought.

"Oh. Yeah, of course. Can I borrow your phone?" Sherlock asked John. He was still laying on the couch with his hands resting in prayer position beneath his chin.

"My phone?" John asked confused.

"Don't wanna use mine," Sherlock began to explain, "Always a chance the number will be recognized. It's on the website."

"Mrs. Hudson's got a phone."

"Yeah, she's downstairs. I tried shouting but she didn't hear." Sherlock explained.

"I was the other side of London. Because you left us there." John said, defending himself.

"There was no hurry." Sherlock said, I groaned.

"Can we get back to what's actually important?" I asked, fed up with this banter.

"Ah yes, her case. First big mistake. The murder took her case."

"So?" John asked.

Sherlock mumbled to himself. Something about risking it. "On my desk there's a number. I want you to send a text." Sherlock said. I grabbed John's phone out of his hand and walked over to his desk.

"These words exactly," Sherlock dictated to me, "What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland Street. Please come." I typed exactly what he said.

Sherlock walked over to the kitchen and picked up something and sat it down on a chair in front of me. After I sent the text you looked down to see a pink suitcase.

"Oh my God. That's it. Jennifer Wilson's case." I said surprised.

"Yes. Obviously." Sherlock said. I stared at it for about a minute, eyes wide, not saying a word. Thoughts racing through your head.

"Oh, perhaps I should mention, I didn't kill her." Sherlock said, annoyed.

"I never said you did." I said, but the thought had crossed my mind after the doubt Donovan put in it.