The first thing I saw when I woke up the morning as John, who was letting himself into our apartment, hands full of grocery bags and an envelope in his mouth. I pushed myself into a sitting position, but when I did so I experienced a strong head rush, enough to send me falling back onto the bed again. I let out a moan.
"Come on Sherlock! Get up! You don´t expect me to pity you, do you? You're the one who drank himself silly last night!"
"Oh please John, will you cut it out!"
"I\m sorry, Sherlock, but we can't afford to waste time! I've got us a new case, and a good one."
"What! Is it murder? Finally, a good murder case" I leapt out of bed and reached for my dressing gown.
"Well, not exactly, Sherlock. I mean, it's a case, but there hasn't been a murder yet." He began to unpack the groceries. I walked up to the table, a little defeated.
"Oh, cheer up, Sherlock. I'll fill you in in a second. You'd better get dressed, we're leaving tomorrow."
"Leaving? For where?"
"A sea voyage. The Titanic"
"But -"
"A Mr. Graston contacted me today and said he needed our assistance. According to what he told me, a man raped and tried to murder his wife, Angelica, a month ago, and has not been seen since the incident. However, he is led to believe that this man will be sailing on the Titanic the same time his wife is, and he wants us to keep an eye on things He's provided us with the tickets, they're in the envelope there."
"Well, I suppose there could be some excitement involved." I began to inspect the tickets. "And first class always helps, they probably have good brandy and-"
"Sherlock, please promise me you won't drink too much on this trip. It's simply unbearable. You weren't made to be a drunkard! Did you know that last night you were-"
"John, my dear fellow, as you said, we have n time to waste."
As we approached the boat, I couldn't help but gaze in amazement. It was certainly spectacular, and the people milling about fascinated me.
"So John, who exactly are we looking for?"
"Long black beard, piercing eyes, slender stature .. oh, and he walks with a limp. His name is M something or other, but I've forgotten."
I turned it over in my mind. M, M, well, maybe it would come to me later, after a cigar and a little brandy.
"Welcome aboard Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson."
Wait, I know that voice.
"Lestrade! Can't I go anywhere without you trailing me?"
"Actually, I'm um- here for the fishing." He gave a wry smile.
"What a load of bullocks that is. The fishing! The bloody fishing! Did anyone else hear this man?"
"Sherlock, let's not get uptight."
"Well, I best be leaving you two to your arguments. I'll be seeing you later, Sherlock." Lestrade walked away with his fishing pole in one hand and suitcase in the other.
"Psst. What kind of a man does he think he is. Bloody fishing."
In my rage, I tried my best to remain calm. My mind should be focused on this mysterious man and his evil deeds, with or without Lestrade.