The Art Of Deduction (A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

21. The Lost Vermeer

REVISED & EDITED

MORNING. HICKMAN GALLERY.
*************************

Sherlock is standing in front of the Vermeer painting, looking up information on his phone. He calls up subjects such as "Vermeer brush strokes," "Pigment analysis," "Canvas degradation," "UV Light damage," "Delft Skyline, 1600," and "Vermeer influences." John, Elisabeth, Lestrade and Miss Wenceslas are standing behind him.

"It's a fake. It has to be." Says Sherlock.

"That painting has been subjected to every test known to science." Says Miss Wenceslas.

"It's a very good fake, then."

He turns and glares at her.

"You know about this, don't you? This is you, isn't it?" He says.

Miss Wenceslas turns to Lestrade, looking exasperated.

"Inspector, my time is being wasted. Would you mind showing yourself and your friends out?" She says.

The pink phone rings. Sherlock snatches it from his pocket and switches on the speaker.

"The painting is a fake." He Says.

There's a faint sound of breathing over the speaker but otherwise there is no response.

"It's a fake. That's why Woodbridge and Cairns were killed."

Still there's nothing more than breathing.

"The painting is a fake. I've solved it. I've figured it out. It's a fake! That's the answer. That's why they were killed."

When the phone remains silent, Sherlock takes a deep breath to calm himself.

"Okay, I'll prove it. Give me time. Will you give me time?"

After a moment, the tremulous voice of a very young boy comes over the phone's speaker.

"Ten." The boy starts a countdown.

Instantly Sherlock spins and looks closely at the painting.

"It's a kid. Oh, God, it's a kid!" Says Lestrade.

"What did he say?" Asks John.

"Ten." Quotes Elisabeth.

"Nine." Says the boy

"It's a countdown. He's giving me time." Says Sherlock.

"Jesus!" Says Lestrade.

"The painting is a fake, but how can I prove it? How? How?"

"Eight."

He turns and glares at Miss Wenceslas.

"This kid will die. Tell me why the painting is a fake. Tell me!"

Miss Wenceslas flinches and opens her mouth, but Sherlock immediately holds up his hand to stop her.

"No, shut up. Don't say anything. It only works if I figure it out."

"Seven."

He turns back to the painting again. Unable to stand the tension, John turns and walks away a few paces. Lestrade turns to watch him, probably wanting to join in the pacing as well. Elisabeth gets closer to the painting, trying to be of any help.

"Must be possible. Must be staring me in the face." Says Sherlock.

"Come on." Says Elisabeth.

"Six."