Why Sherlock?

The Great Game {13}

"Where are we?" John asks, as Sherlock and I turn into the drive of a building and trot up the steps at the side which lead to the front door of flat 21A on the first floor.

As Sherlock rummages in his pocket, John scolds him. "Sherlock! What if there's someone in?"

"There isn't." He says as he picks the lock and goes inside.

We quickly hurried inside and shut the door. Sherlock trots up the short flight of stairs ahead of us and walks into the living room.

"Where are we?" John asks, lingering by the door.

"Oh, sorry, didn't I say? Joe Harrison's flat."

Sherlock goes straight over to the window and pulls back the net curtain. He grins in satisfaction at the sight which greets him outside.

"You mean the brother of West's fiancée?" I ask while going over to Sherlock to see what he was grinning at. Outside the window was a one-story extension, the roof of which can be easily climbed onto from the window. The extension goes all the way to the bottom of the garden which ends in a wall, and directly on the other side of the wall is the railway line.

"He stole the memory stick; killed his prospective brother-in-law." Dropping to his knees, he gets out his magnifier and uses it to examine the window sill. John walks across to him and peers over his shoulder as Sherlock finds some tiny blood-red spots on the white paint.

"Then why'd he do it?" He straightens up and turns at the sound of someone unlocking the front door. Sherlock also stands.

"Let's ask him." He said. "Get back, (Y/n)."

Reaching to the back of his jeans, John walks quietly to the door of the living room as the front door slams. He steps out onto the landing just as Joe, wearing his courier gear, is leaning his bicycle against the wall. When he sees John he picks up the bike as if he intends to throw it at him. John instantly raises his gun and points it at him. "Don't." John said sternly. For a moment Joe keeps coming but John shakes his head. "Don't."

Joe stops and lowers the bike, sighing in a mixture of frustration and fear. He slowly makes his way up the stairs in defeat and plops on the sofa. John puts his gun away and we all stand facing Joe for answers.

"It wasn't meant to..." He begins, looking very distressed. Sherlock looks away, exasperated. "God." He rubs his hands over his face and rocks on the sofa. "What's Lucy gonna say? Jesus." He sinks back into the sofa.

"Why did you kill him?" John asks Joe.

"It was an accident." He said, looking away from us. Sherlock makes a sound of disapproval. "I swear it was."

"But stealing the plans for the missile defence programme wasn't an accident, was it?" Sherlock sternly pried.

"I started dealing drugs. I mean, the bike thing's a great cover, right? I dunno, I dunno how it started; I just got out of my depth. I owed people thousands. Serious people." Joe huffed. "Then at Westie's engagement do, he starts talking about his job." While he talks, he talks slowly as if recalling it exactly from memory. "I mean, usually he's so careful; but that night after a few pints he really opened up. He told me about these missile plans, beyond top secret. He showed me the memory stick; he waved it in front of me. You hear about these things getting lost, ending up on rubbish tips and what-not. And there it was, and I thought... well, I thought it could be worth a fortune." He thought for a moment before continuing, "It was pretty easy to get the thing off him, he was so plastered. Next time I saw him, I could tell by the look on his face that he knew." Joe stops and looks up at us with a guilty look on his face.