The Art Of Deduction (A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

37. Crime In Progress

Not long afterwards, the black car pulls up outside 221 and John gets out. The car drives away and he walks to the door, then stops when he sees a handwritten note attached underneath the knocker. He looks around the street for a moment, then pushes the door open and goes inside. Written on the note is:

CRIME IN PROGRESS
PLEASE DISTURB

He goes upstairs and hurries into the living room.

"What's going on?" Asks John.

He stops at the sight of Neilson, bound and gagged with duct tape and sitting on the chair near the fireplace. His nose is broken and blood has run down his face and is dripping from his chin. Mrs Hudson and Elisabeth are sitting on the sofa and Sherlock is in a chair nearby, holding Neilson's pistol aimed at him with one hand, and his phone to his ear with the other.

"Jeez. What the hell is happening?" Asks John.

"Elisabeth and Mrs Hudson have been attacked by an American. I'm restoring balance to the universe." Replies Sherlock.

"Oh, Mrs Hudson, my God. Are you all right?" Says John.

Glaring at Neilson as he puts his arm around her shoulders.

"What have they done to you?"

Mrs Hudson breaks down in tears again.

"Oh, I'm just being so silly." She says.

Sherlock gets to his feet, still holding the phone to his ear while aiming the gun at Neilson.

"Downstairs. Take them downstairs and look after them." Says Sherlock.

John stands up and helps Mrs Hudson to her feet.

"All right, it's all right. I'll have a look at that." Says John.

As Elisabeth and Mrs Hudson walk out of the room, John steps over to Sherlock, whose eyes are fixed on Neilson.

"Are you gonna tell me what's going on?" Asks John.

"I expect so. Now go." Replies Sherlock.

They look at each other for a moment, then turn their gazes to Neilson and now he's got two murderous expressions aimed at him. John turns to leave the room but just before his head is completely turned away, a small smile begins to form on his face as if he wants Neilson to understand that he is about to encounter a whole world of hurt.

"Lestrade. We've had a break-in at Baker Street. Send your least irritating officers and an ambulance. Oh, no-no-no-no-no, we're fine. No, it's the, uh, it's the burglar. He's got himself rather badly injured." Says Sherlock, into the phone.

Neilson looks nervous while Sherlock listens to Lestrade's question.

"Oh, a few broken ribs, fractured skull ... suspected punctured lung." He Replies.

He looks over his shoulder at Neilson.

"He fell out of a window."

Still looking into Neilson's eyes, he hangs up.

Downstairs in Mrs Hudson's kitchen, she, Elisabeth, and John are standing by the sink while he gently applies some antiseptic to the cut on her cheek with a piece of cotton wool. She flinches.

"Ooh it stings." She says.

John nods as he continues cleaning the cut. A moment later a shape plummets down past the window and lands with a crash. The three of them look at the window.

"Ooh, that was right on my bins!" Says Mrs Hudson.

"Well that must've hurt." Says Elisabeth.

There's an agonised groan from outside.

Some time later, it's fully dark outside and an ambulance is only now pulling away from 221. Sherlock is standing outside Speedy's café with Lestrade, who apparently decided that his least irritating officer was himself.

"And exactly how many times did he fall out the window?" Asks Lestrade.

"It's all a bit of a blur, Detective Inspector. I lost count." Replies Sherlock.

Not bothering to comment, Lestrade walks away. A little later Sherlock comes in through the kitchen door of 221A and carefully wipes his feet on the doormat. Mrs Hudson and John are sitting at her small kitchen table. Mrs H still looks very shaken.

"They'll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after them." Says John.

"Sorry, john. You do remember I was an agent right?" Elisabeth asks.

"Well at least Mrs Hudson needs to be taken care of."

"Of course, but she's fine." Says Sherlock.

"No, she's not. Look at her."

Sherlock opens the fridge door and peers inside before picking something up.

"She's got to take some time away from Baker Street. She can go and stay with her sister. Doctor's orders."

Kicking the fridge door shut, Sherlock frowns at John and bites into a mince pie.

"Don't be absurd." He says.

"She's in shock, for God's sake, and all over some bloody stupid camera phone. Where is it, anyway?" Asks John.

"Safest place I know." Replies Sherlock.

Mrs Hudson holds out the phone towards Sherlock.

"You left it in the pocket of your second-best dressing gown, you clot. I managed to sneak it out when they thought I was having a cry." Says Mrs Hudson.

"Thank you." Says Sherlock, as he throws the phone into the air, catches it and puts it into his coat pocket.

He looks at John.

"Shame on you, John Watson." Says Sherlock.

"Shame on me!?" Asks John.

"These two, leave baker street?"

He holds a protective arm around Mrs Hudson and Elisabeth.

"England would fall."