Young Sherlock | School of Deduction (Book One)

Chapter Seven

Sherlock and Sophie spent a long time talking about the code. They looked up different types of obscure and ancient codes on Sherlock's laptop and had filled up pages of a blank old exercise book with theories, possible encryption codes and attempts at decrypting the message.

For the first time since coming to London, Sherlock could show off his skills and just have a conversation without having to compensate for the stupidity of the other person.

It was only when the newly-wed man who owned the shop asked them to leave that they realised how late it was. Checking his watch, Sherlock saw it was half past ten. They had been talking for 6 hours. Sherlock often found that time flew when he was talking to someone (usually to himself) about a theory or deduction. Sometimes he didn't even notice people moving or leaving the room he was in and would continue to talk to them. Sophie, it seemed, had experienced the same phenomenon.

It was freezing outside; Sherlock put up the collar of his jacket to shield himself from the wind. There were few taxis around, and the ones that were already had passengers so the two decided to walk instead.

"Where do you live then Sophie Marie Thompson?" Sherlock questioned.

"I'm not telling you," Sophie said teasingly. "Ask Mycroft."

Sherlock sighed in annoyance and pulled out his phone from his pocket, causing Sophie to laugh in spite of herself.

"I was joking - I live at 221B Baker Street."

"That's just round the corner, " Sherlock said.

Sophie stared at him, impressed. "Okay, do you stalk me, or are you a walking GPS?"

"I like to keep busy. I wanted to find my way around London, so now I know my way around London. That's all," Sherlock said dismissively.

"Okay, how would I get to the Starbucks closest to London Bridge?" Sophie quizzed.

"Round the corner, turn left down the main road and walk to the bus stop, take the number 53 bus at 22:43 until you reach the precinct and Starbucks will probably be the third or fourth shop you see."

"Now you're just showing off!" Sophie laughed.

"You asked!" he countered.

Sophie laughed again, but was cut off when something slammed into the back of her head and she fell unconscious.

Sherlock turned just in time to see a man, cloaked in black attempt to throw a rock at his head.

Sherlock ducked and the rock slammed into a parked car, setting off the alarm, but both ignored this.

The man grabbed Sherlock round the waist and tried to flip him over, but Sherlock sprung into action, and the man yelled in pain as a well-aimed knee to the groin hit home. Sherlock smacked the man round the face and the man staggered backwards, falling backwards onto the pavement.

Sherlock pounced on him, pinning him to the floor.

"Who the hell are you?" he growled, his floppy black hair swaying as the man tried to break free, to no avail.

"Let me go, Sherlock Holmes," the man spluttered.

"Look, I have a gun in my jacket so unless you want a bullet through your thick skull, I suggest you tell me who you are," Sherlock threatened.

"He sent me," gasped the man, buying the lie about the gun. "The man who's planning all the kidnappings, okay? Now let me go!"

"No. I said I wouldn't kill you, not that I'd let you get away."

"Well right now, your girlfriend -"

"She's not my girlfriend!"

"- needs medical attention, so either you let me go, or she'll live with the consequences. It's me or her, Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock glanced over at Sophie lying in the gutter, her hair covering her face. She was eerily still and bruises had started to form on her wrist.

Sherlock punched the man once more for good measure, then released his hold on him. The man ran off without a second thought.

Once the man was out of sight, Sherlock hurried over to Sophie.

"Hang on, Sophie," he whispered.