Why Sherlock?

By Impalalover221B

4K 227 59

This is a Sherlockxreader I'm writing. I will update it hopefully every Monday. if I am behind I'm sorry, If... More

The Great Game {1}
The Great Game {2}
The Great Game {3}
The Great Game {4}
The Great Game {5}
The Great Game {6}
The Great Game {8}
The Great Game {9}
The Great Game {10}
The Great Game {11}
The Great Game {12}
The Great Game {13}
The Great Game {14}
The Great Game {15}
You're Not As Bad As I Thought

The Great Game {7}

232 14 1
By Impalalover221B

After hearing that the woman tied up was saved and safe, we all decided it was time to rest. I mean, I'm not sure about Sherlock but I know John went straight to bed. I would've told mum about the bomber, except that it was early in the morning and she was sleeping.

With unsuccessful sleep myself, I 'found' myself wandering up the stairs to Sherlock's flat.

The door had opened even before I knocked. He knew I was coming, he could probably read everyone's footsteps who come up these stairs. Without a word, he moved aside and let me in.

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked, sitting in John's chair.

"I don't sleep much." Was his reply, glass quietly clinking in the kitchen.

Gee okay, great convo.

"You can't sleep either?" He asked.

"No, not really." I pull my feet up to my chest as he walks over to his own chair and sits. He hands me a steamy cup of tea. I glance at him questioningly.

"Why are you afraid?" He asks, sipping his tea.

I scoff and take a sip of my tea. "Why... I mean... Why shouldn't I be? For all I know, one of us could be the next person strapped in bombs. So, yeah, I'm a little afraid."

He was silent for a moment. "You don't need to be. I'm here to protect you."

I blush at his words but keep a straight(ish) face. "How... Do you know I'm not the bomber?"

"You don't seem the type. You said so yourself, (Y/n). One of us."

***

The boys and I are in Lestrade’s office, Sherlock standing at the window which looks into the main office, his hands raised in front of his mouth and his fingers tapping together. John is sitting opposite Lestrade at his desk. I sit across from him, tapping my fingers on the desk impatiently. I needed to sleep.

"She lives in Cornwall. Two men broke in wearing masks, forced her to drive to the car park and decked her out in enough explosives to take down a house." Lestrade informs. He looks up at Sherlock who is walking towards the desk. "Told her to phone you. She had to read out from this pager." He puts the pager onto the desk in front of John, who picks it up to look at it.

"And if she deviated by one word, the sniper would set her off." Sherlock said.

"Or if you hadn’t solved the case, Sherlock." I tell him as he starts walking back to the window.

He speaks softly, as if to himself. "Oh. Elegant."

John raises his head and sighs in exasperation. “Elegant?"

"But what was the point? Why would anyone do this?"

"Oh, I can’t be the only person in the world that gets bored." Sherlock looks away thoughtfully as if he was having his own flashback.

"Is that how your wall got damaged? You shot it up because you were bored?" I question.

He turns to me and smiles just as the pink phone beeps a message alert. John turns around to him as Sherlock activates the phone.

"You have one new message." As Sherlock walks towards Lestrade’s desk, the phone sounds the Greenwich pips again, but this time there are three short pips and one long one.

"Four pips."

"First test passed, it would seem. Here’s the second." Sherlock shows a new photograph. It’s a close-up of a car with its driver’s door open and the number plate clearly visible. John and Lestrade get up to take a closer look, and outside in the main office, a phone rings.

"It’s abandoned, wouldn’t you say?" Sherlock says to me and I nod.

"I’ll see if it’s been reported."

As he picks up his desk phone, Sergeant Donovan comes to the office holding another phone.

"(Y/n), it’s for you." She says.

I get up and walk over to the door taking the phone from her. John sits down again and Sherlock watches as I walk out into the general office and raises the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

The frightened voice of a young man comes over the phone. "It’s okay that you’ve gone to the police."

"Who's this? Is this you again? The bomber?"

"But don’t rely on them." I glance to Sherlock, who's staring through the blinds.

In Lestrade’s office, John looks around and sits up taller when he sees the look on Sherlock’s face.

"Clever, guessing about Carl Powers. I never liked him." The man obviously fights his tears as he continues to read. "Carl laughed at me, so I stopped him from laughing."

Sherlock comes out of the office and walks closer to me, looking in concern.

"I see you’ve stolen another voice."

"This is about you, me, and Sherlock." He replies. "Mostly you."

"Who are you?" I reply hastily. Noise can be heard loudly in the background. "What’s that noise?"

"The sounds of life, (Y/n)." He's silent for a moment, then his voice trembles in fear. "But don’t worry... I can soon fix that." He cries briefly, then continues to read the message. "You all solved my last puzzle in nine hours. This time you have eight."

In the office, Lestrade is talking into the phone. "Okay... Great." Hanging up the phone, he heads towards the door. John gets up and follows. "We’ve found it." The phone goes dead. I turn with Sherlock and follow Lestrade and John out.

***

Close to the river, the police have arrived at a large open space where the car was found. Forensics officers in protective clothing are working on the car as Lestrade leads Sherlock towards it. John, Sally Donovan and I are walking along behind them.

"The car was hired yesterday morning by an Ian Monkford. Banker of some kind; City boy. Paid in cash." Lestrade said, looking at a notepad.

Sherlock looks closely as they pass a woman talking with a female police officer.

"Told his wife he was going away on a business trip, but he never arrived." As Sherlock and Lestrade reach the passenger door of the car, Sally turns to John.

"You’re still hanging round him."

"Yeah, well..." John replies, obviously a little tired of her himself.

"Opposites attract, I suppose."

"No, we’re not..." He objects but Sally keeps talking.

"You should get yourself a hobby – stamps, maybe. Model trains. Safer." She goes to stand beside Lestrade while Sherlock leans into the car to look at the large amount of blood smeared over the island between the two front seats. He opens the glove box.

"Before you ask, yes, it’s Monkford’s blood. The DNA checks out." Lestrade tells Sherlock, unaware what Sherlock was about to take. Evidence.

Sherlock finds a business card in the glove box and takes it out. Closing the lid, he straightens up. "No body."

"Not yet." Donovan says. Dunno why, but she gets on my nerves.

"Get a sample sent to the lab." Sherlock tells Lestrade.

He nods and Sherlock walks away. Lestrade turns to Donovan and looks at her pointedly. She stares back at him indignantly but he holds the look and she grunts in exasperation and stomps away. Sherlock walks over to the woman who was talking with the police officer. John and I made our way over.

"Mrs. Monkford?" Sherlock asks.

She turns to him tearfully. "Yes." She looks between John and Sherlock and sighs. "Sorry, but I’ve already spoken with two policemen."

"No, we’re not from the police, we’re-" John says.

I lift my eyes solemnly and put out a hand to her, my voice is suddenly tearful and tremulous. "(Y/F/N). A very old friend of your husband’s. We, um..." As she shakes my hand, I look down as if fighting back tears. "...we grew up together."

"I’m sorry, who? I don’t think he ever mentioned you."

"Oh, he must have. This is... this is horrible, isn’t it?" John looks away, trying somewhat unsuccessfully to keep his face neutral. While Sherlock looks somewhat amused. "I mean, I just can’t believe it. I only saw him the other day. Same old Ian, not a care in the world." I smile tearfully at her.

"Sorry, but my husband has been depressed for months. Who are you?" She asks now, somewhat irritated.

By now tears were running down my cheeks. "Really strange that he hired a car. Why would he do that? It’s a bit suspicious, isn’t it?"

"No, it isn’t. He forgot to renew the tax on the car, that’s all." Mrs.Monkford replies.

"Oh, well, that was Ian! That was Ian all over!" I say, almost losing it. Just say something already!

"No, it wasn’t." She replies angrily.

Instantly the fake persona drops and I look at her intensely. "Wasn’t it?" I reply normally. "Interesting."

Sherlock turns and walks away. She glares after us as he heads for the police tape with John and I following behind. The female police officer goes over to her. "Who was I talking to?" She asks.

"Why did you lie to her?" John asks as we duck under the police tape that Sherlock is holding up.

"People don’t like telling you things, but they love to contradict you. Past tense, did you notice?" Sherlock says.

"Sorry, what?" John asks.

"I referred to her husband in the past tense. She joined in. Bit premature, they’ve only just found the car." I said.

"You think she murdered her husband?" Sherlock asked, walking a little faster.

"Definitely not. That’s not a mistake a murderer would make." I reply, after wiping my tears away.

"I see... No, I don’t. What am I seeing?"

As we walk past Donovan, she turns and calls out to John. "Fishing! Try fishing!"

John turns around and gives her an exasperated nod before following Sherlock again. John didn't notice that I had turned to flip her off but Sherlock's hand caught mine and put it down.

"Where are we going now?" John asks, catching up.

"Janus Cars." Sherlock hands the business card to John. "Just found this in the glove compartment."

SIX HOURS TO GO.

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