I made a good choice this morning, in deciding to rent the flat Mrs Hudson was offering, and she did offer cheap rates. I ensured her husband met his death for his crimes, so she really did owe me a favour. It's just I can't pay the rent on my own.
Hmm, how long before Lestrade finally brings me in on the murders that the police force think are linked suicides. Ha. How can you have linked suicides? Any way, I need to make myself known... I'll send out that text. Lestrade just said that there's a link between the suicides.
[WRONG]
Mass texts to all phones in the conference room at the police station while the conference about the "suicides". And here comes the trying to cover up the text for the media. Next Lestrade will say "We have our best people on the operation." I am the best person to solve this case, and after this gentle prodding, Lestrade will have issues ignoring me because once again he is
[WRONG]
How fun is it to see him flounder? Still, clever woman mentioning the likeliness of murder and serial killer. That's where I'm heading with this. Lestrade just dug himself a hole... "Don't commit suicide"? To a Daily Mail representative? Really, how stupid is this man? Did he really just say "We are all as safe as we really want to be"? He does like to make the reassuring claims that are
[WRONG]
I am so glad that phones companies finally caught up with the mass text possibilities that make me able to torment Lestrade. And finally, one text just for Lestrade as I make myself unbelievably obvious in an attempt to show him just how badly he is handling this case.
[You know where to find me.
S.H.]
I have to congratulate myself, bugging Lestrade was too easy, and I know exactly which cases I will just have to intervene with. To slip out his police ID, and in a miniature tracking microphone was too simple. It's the small things that irk him most.
I bumped into Mike Stumford this morning, after moving the last of my stuff into 221B, I felt the need to express myself about the new flat, but I do think it will be hard to find anyone who will be able to share a flat with me. Even just if I talk at them, and they understand none of it, the whole process will have been futile, I need, not an equal but someone of intelligence and a fair bity of patience. I know myself, and violin practice can be calming at any time of night or day for me, but maybe not a flat mate. I did ask him- "Who would want me for a flat mate?" To say the very least he didn't bother consider his words before answering, "Very few Sherlock," and his honesty was not hurtful per say but I realised the impracticalities of sharing a space with someone else.
Anyway, to the morgue. I need to find out how bruises and welts form on a body when attacked with a riding crop, within twenty minutes. This should be a good release of energy.
The morgue assistant, Molly, watched me as I beat a man she used to work with. It was odd to say the least, especially when she asked if I had a bad day. Humph no. I explained that an alibi rested on the results. These results could put a guilty man in prison, but I have to say Ryan Taylor was not a bad piece of work, yet the riding crop he used on his victims body, well that could just be the key to the investigation. A simple case, no large issues, just working on if an alibi was correct- hardly the stretch for me. She asked if I wanted coffee, in an attempt to get closer to me, but I don't do "friends" so I ordered my usual, black coffee. I enquired about her addition of lip stick, to a response of "I refreshed it." Again an attempt to make me notice her as more than the assistant.
As I tested some tissue samples from the Wilson case, and waited on my coffee, Mike walked back in, escorting a man with a limp. Posture told me he is vaguely familiar with the surroundings, trained at Barts, yet due to the way he held his back, he is obviously military. I needed to text the results of the bruising to Lestrade. They show that Taylor could not be there as twenty minutes was not long enough for bruises to show. But, if I used one phone, he would have my number, and I enjoy making him come to me whenever he deems himself in too deep. I asked for Mikes, but he didn't have it, so I was mildly surprised when his companion offered me his. Mike also introduced the man as John Watson. Why he did this I don't know, as he knows I can learn more than just a name in the seconds he takes to tell me.
Recently come back from a foreign tour, Iraq or Afghanistan, according to the tan which stopped suddenly at the cuff of his uniform. Standing perfectly fine now, must have a psychosomatic limp, seeing as he didn't ask for a stool, trauma during the time away definitely and due to the limp that disappears, well he's got to have a psychologist. Also, as the leg is no longer a bother, the wound that causes the limp cannot be in the leg.
Next the phone. Engraved with Harry Watson. Male name, must be brother, father or cousin, but it can't be his own. Man just back from service having a mobile with internet, MP3 and the other spiel that comes with it? I think not, the phone must be borrowed. The phones a young mans phone, so it really couldn't be the father, and it couldn't be an older brothers- means a younger brother. Many scratches to the screen and case, obviously in a pocket with cash and /or keys making it even less likely that it is this mans phone. He wouldn't be able to treat such a luxury like that. The scratches at the charger port also show the brother is an alcoholic, attempting to charge the phone after a drink and shaking hands, equalling those scratches. The engraving, from a loved one, a gift. Clara, not a girlfriend, wife, going through divorce? About right. It can't have been instigated by Harry, otherwise he'd keep the phone.... must be a messy divorce she wanted.
John must be looking for an apartment, but to start the conversation I had to find out where he'd toured.
"Afghanistan or Iraq?"
John looked surprised, while Mike smug. John answered though, with Afghanistan. He began to ask how I knew, but Molly interrupted and brought my coffee, which I was quite looking forward to. For some reason, Molly had removed the lipstick, and her lips just looked small and pursed now- not a good look for her. I did tell her- it would just be cruel not to.
The tissue samples in the acid solution confirmed the assumptions and really, it just had to be proved. There was a chemical, used mainly for green pigments in metal paints. Access was gained on a ladder then, green ladder will connect the father to the victim, as in his garden, he had a ladder the same shade. I typed a cryptic message on the phone while other things were being processed.
Back to John. If he was a possible candidate, which I can assume why Mike brought him, after our words this morning, he must be able to, as they say, "put up" with me. That is such a vague term, but he must be able to abide violin practice, me not talking for days, petty things like that that could harm the relationship between flat mates.
Poor him, Mike had told him nothing of my talents! That shows he wanted me to make my own impression. I have to say, that beneath the surprise, for once there is not the anger that follows these assumptions. Most do find it irksome. I gave him a brief summary of what I know about him, but not how I got there, that's for another time. First I must collect my riding crop; I forgot it in the mortuary. I also made him aware of the flat we could afford if we pooled resources, asking him to meet me there at seven tomorrow. 221B Baker Street, such a good name for a flat I think. For his benefit I told him my name. A final goodbye to Mike, and the two cases are closed for today.
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There you go people. Next chapter. I have to say, getting all the details from the TV show is hellova lot hard, due to the rate he talks! I mean I can talk quick, but that- that is something else! I missed a text out- which I only realised today! It has been edited, and I have to warn you, as the plot goes on and more is explained, many things may be edited to better reflect the show.
The is the really birthday present for my two buddies, Charmel and Hanchan. Hope this is the icing on the proverbial cake for today and I can only wish that it lives up to your very high expectations.
Votes and comments welcome.
Zoe
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Watson Got Life At 221B Baker Street Wrong
FanfictionSherlock Holmes would have had his own veiw of what happens in his life, as he attempts to keep his brain, much quicker than the average humans, ticking over. His new flat mate, Watson has been asked to write about his new life in London by a pysci...
