The real fall

Chapter Twenty Six

I unlock the door and open it. Then I scream. A man is hunched over Sherlock, strangling him. Sherlock looks at me and his eyes widen. My scream had alarmed the guard outside who rushes in.

The man jumps back who I can now recognise as Culverton Smith. "Get him!" I yell at the security guard who quickly restrains the man. More nurses and guards enter the room during this. "He's in distress I'm helping him!" Culverton protests, "I was trying to help him!"
"Sherlock what was he doing to you?" I ask him.
"Suffocating me." He gasps, "Overdosing me." John suddenly enters and scans the room. "What's happened?!" He demands.
"Culverton was suffocating and overdosing Sherlock." I tell him.
"On what?" He growls.
"Saline." Sherlock moans.
"Saline?" John and me gasp.
"Yeah saline. Rachel help me up." He croaks. I rush over and push back his pillow and help him up. "Why did you come? You weren't supposed to come John was...." he mutters.
"What do you mean saline?" John interrupts, looking at the IV drips. "Well, obviously, I got Nurse Cornish to switch the bags. She's a big fan, you know. Loves my blog." Sherlock explains.
"You're okay?" John confirms.
"No of course I'm not okay. Malnourished, double kidney failure, and frankly I've been off my t*** for weeks. Rachel helped me though. Well, a bit. What kind of doctor are you?" He groans, "I got my confession though, didn't I?"
"Well, I don't recall making any confession." Culverton shrugs, laughing uneasily, "W - what would I be confessing to?"
"You can listen to it later." Sherlock tells John. "Well, there's not confession to listen to! Oh Mr. Holmes I don't know if this is relevant, but we found three potential recording devices in the pockets of your coat. All your possessions were searched, sorry!" Culverton says, clapping his hands together.

"There must be something comforting in number three, people always give up after three." Sherlock says slowly. It's silent for a while. "What? What is it? What?" John asks eventually. They share a look before John says, "Oh. You cock."
"Yeah." Sherlock sighs.
"Utter, utter cock." John repeats.
"Heard you the first time." Sherlock groans, grabbing my hand and squeezing it slightly. "Pillows down please." He murmurs. I flatten them and he leans back, sighing deeply.

"How does it open?" John questions. "Screw the top." Sherlock replies. Everyone watches as John takes off the top, revealing a small recording device. "Two weeks ago?" He guesses.
"Three." Sherlock corrects.
"I'm that predictable?" John scoffs.
"No." Sherlock disagrees, shaking his head slightly, "I'm just a cock."