In a bedsit somewhere in London, John Watson is having a nightmare. He is reliving his Army days and his team is under fire somewhere abroad. A colleague cries out his name as the gunfire continues. Finally he jolts awake, distressed and panic-stricken. He sits up in bed wide-eyed and breathing heavily until he realises that he is safe and a long way from the war. Flopping back onto his pillow, he tries to calm his breathing as he continues to be haunted by his memories. Eventually, unable to stop himself, he begins to weep.
Sometime later in the night he has sat up on the side of the bed and switched on the bedside lamp. It's still dark outside. John sits quietly, wrapped up in his thoughts, and looks across to the desk on the other side of the room. A metal walking cane is leaning against the desk. He looks at it unhappily, and then continues to gaze into the distance. He will not be sleeping again tonight.
The sun has finally risen and John, now wearing a dressing gown over his night wear, hobbles across the room leaning heavily on his cane. In his other hand he has a mug of tea and an apple, both of which he puts down onto the desk. The mug bears the arms of the Royal Army Medical Corps. Sitting down, he opens the drawer in the desk to get his laptop. As he lifts the computer out of the drawer, we see that he also has a pistol in there. Putting the laptop onto the desk and opening the lid he looks at the webpage which has automatically loaded. It reads, "The personal blog of Dr. John H. Watson". The rest of the page is blank.
Later he is at his psychotherapist's office and he sits in a chair opposite her.
"How's your blog going?" his therapist asked
"Yeah, good." clears his throat awkwardly "Very good."
"You haven't written a word, have you?"
John pointed to the notepad that the therapist was writing in "You just wrote 'Still has trust issues.'"
She gave him a 'see what I mean' look and replied "And you read my writing upside down. D'you see what I mean?" John gave her an awkward smile.
"John, you're a soldier, and it's gonna take you a while to adjust to civilian life; and writing a blog about everything that happens to you will honestly help you."
John gives her a sad look and says "Nothing happens to me."
John is limping briskly through Russle Square Park, leaning heavily on his cane. As he walks past a man sitting on the bench, the man stares after him, clearly recognising him. He calls out "John! John Watson!"
John turns around to see the man that called out to him stand up and hurries towards him, smiling.
"Stamford. Mike Stamford. We were at Bart's together." Mike introduces himself once he sees that John doesn't remember who he is.
"Yes, sorry, yes, Mike." He says while taking Mike's offered hand and shakes it "Hello, hi."
Mike grinned and gestured to himself and said "Yeah, I know." I got fat!"
"No." John tried to sound convincing when he said it.
"I heard you were abroad somewhere, getting shot at. What happened?"
"I got shot." John replied awkwardly, which caused both of them to look embarrassed.
A little later they have bought take-away coffees and are sitting side by side on a bench in the park. Mike looks at John worriedly. Oblivious, John takes a sip from his coffee then looks across to his old friend.
"Are you still at Bart's, then?" John asked.
"Teaching now. Bright young things, like we used to be. God, I hate them!" Mike replied which caused both of them to laugh.
"What about you? Just staying in town 'til you get yourself sorted?" Mike asked.
"I can't afford London on an Army pension." Johns replied.
"Ah, and you couldn't bear to be anywhere else. That's not the John Watson I know."
John shifted uncomfortably "Yeah, I'm not the John Watson ..."
He stops and Mike awkwardly looks away and drinks his coffee. John switches his own cup to his right hand and looks down at his left hand, clenching it into a fist as he tries to control the tremor that has started. Mike looks round at him again and asks "Couldn't Harry help?"
"Yeah, like that's gonna happen!" John replied sarcastically.
Mike shrugged "I dunno – get a flat share or something?"
"Come on – who'd want me for a flatmate?"
Mike chuckled.
"What?"
"Well, you're the second person to say that to me today."
"Who was the first?" John asked confused.
St Bartholomew's Hospital morgue Sherlock Holmes unzips the body bag lying on the table and peers at the corpse inside. He sniffs, and then turns to the two women beside him, one who couldn't have looked over the age of 18 has all her focus on a crossword puzzle booklet.
"How fresh?" he asks the woman with the auburn hair styled into a pony-tail, knowing that the other one isn't paying attention.
"Just in. Sixty-seven, natural causes." She reports, and then adds "He used to work here. I knew him. He was nice."
Zipping the bag up again, Sherlock straightens up, turns to her and smiles falsely, which caused the woman that wasn't paying attention to raise an eyebrow.
"Fine. We'll start with the riding crop." He said, which caused the other woman to put away her half-finished booklet.
Shortly afterwards the body has been removed from the bag and is lying on its back on the table. In the observation room next door, the women watch, and the woman with auburn hair, Molly, flinches while Sherlock flogs the body repeatedly and violently with a riding crop. While the other woman, Dare, took notes beside her. Molly walks back into the room and Dare not far behind, as he finishes and straightens up, breathless, when they go over to him.
"So, bad day, was it?" Molly said jokingly.
Dare frowned as her older brother ignored the other woman's banter as he took out his notebook and started writing in it while saying "I need to know what bruises form in the next twenty minutes. A man's alibi depends on it. Text me."
Molly nervously asks "Listen, I was wondering: maybe later, when you're finished ..."
Sherlock gives her a curious look to her as he is writing, then does a double-take and frowns at her.
"Are you wearing lipstick? You weren't wearing lipstick before." he asked. It took all of Dare's will power not to face palm.
Molly replied nervously "I, er, I refreshed it a bit." And gives him a flirtatious smile while he gives her a long obvious look, then goes back to writing in his notebook.
Thus causing Dare to shake her head sadly that her brother is impossibly thick when it comes to other people taking a romantic interest in him.
"Sorry" he muttered "you were saying?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee." She explained.
Sherlock puts his notebook away, and smiles.
"Black, two sugars, please. I'll be upstairs." He replied before walking away.
"... Okay." Molly says sadly.
While Dare is glaring at his back, and the turns to her sadden friend. "I'm sorry, you know how he is." Before giving her friend a quick hug before following her brother. Molly nods before getting his coffee.
Later at Bart's lab Sherlock is standing at the far end of the lab using a pipette to squeeze a few drops of liquid onto a Petri dish while Dare is sitting on a stool beside him working on her crossword booklet which has 15 pages left before she finishes it.
Mike knocks on the door and brings John in with him. Sherlock glances across at them briefly before looking at his work again, while Dare looks up and gives them a friendly smile before continuing her work as well. John limps into the room, looking around at all the equipment.
"Well, bit different from my day." John commented.
Mike chucks "You've no idea!"
Sherlock who is now sitting down asks "Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine or Dare's."
"And what's wrong with the landline?" Mike asked.
"I prefer to text." Dare rolled her eyes at his reply, which caused Sherlock to give her a glare which she ignored.
"Sorry. It's in my coat."
John fishes in his back pocket and takes out his own phone.
"Er, here. Use mine." John says.
"Oh. Thank you." Sherlock says.
Giving Mike a brief glace before he stands up and walks toward John. Mike introduces them "It's an old friend of mine, John Watson."
Sherlock reaches John and takes his phone from him. Turning partially away from him, he flips open the keypad and starts to type on it.
"Afghanistan or Iraq?" Sherlock asked John, and at this point Dare had finished her booklet and tossed it at the trash.
John frowns. Nearby, Mike smiles knowingly and Dare started to take an interest in the conversation. John looks at Sherlock as he continues to type.
"Sorry?" John asked confused.
"Which was it – Afghanistan or Iraq?" while Sherlock briefly raises his eyes to John's before looking back to the phone. John hesitates, and then looks across to Mike, confused. Mike just smiles smugly while Dare is studying John for his reaction.
"Afghanistan. Sorry, how did you know ...?" john asked before he was interrupted by Sherlock saying "Ah, Molly, coffee. Thank you." when Molly walked into the room with a mug of coffee.
He shuts John's phone and hands it back as Molly brings the mug over to him. He looks closely at her as he takes the mug. Her mouth is paler again.
"What happened to the lipstick?" he questioned.
Molly smiled awkwardly "It wasn't working for me."
"Really? I thought it was a big improvement. Your mouth's too small now." He commented before turning and walking back to his station, taking a sip from the mug and grimacing at the taste, which caused Dare to elbow him in the side and give the other woman an apologetic smile. He gave her a confused look.
"... Okay." She said and gave her friend a sad smile before turning and heading back towards the door.
"How do you feel about the violin?" Sherlock asked.
John looks round at Molly but she's on her way out the door. He glances at Mike who is still smiling smugly, and finally realises that Sherlock is talking to him.
"I'm sorry, what?"
While he is typing on a laptop keyboard as he says "I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days on end and she" gestures to Dare "is unreachable when she is studying or reading." he looks round at John. "Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other."
He throws a hideously false smile at John, who looks at him blankly for a moment then looks across to Mike. "Oh, you ... you told them about me?"
"Not a word." Mike replied still smiling.
John turned to Sherlock again "Then who said anything about flatmates?"
Sherlock picked up his greatcoat and putting it on and handing the leather jacket to his sister whom left her seat once she realised he was leaving "I did. Told Mike this morning that we must be difficult to find a flatmate for. Now here he is just after lunch with an old friend, clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't that difficult a leap."
"How did you know about Afghanistan?"
Sherlock ignores the question, wraps his scarf around his neck, then picks up his mobile and checks it before saying "Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. The three of us ought to be able to afford it." Before he walks towards John.
"We'll meet there tomorrow evening; seven o'clock. Sorry – gotta dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary." He said and put his phone into the inside pocket of his coat, he walks past John and heads for the door.
John turns to look at him "Is that it?"
Sherlock turns back from the door and strolls closer to John again. "Is that what?"
"We've only just met and we're gonna go and look at a flat?"
"Problem?"
John smiles in disbelief, looking across to Mike for help, but his friend just continues to smile as he looks at Sherlock. John turns back to the younger man.
"We don't know a thing about each other; I don't know where we're meeting; I don't even know either of your names."
Sherlock looks closely at him for a moment before speaking. "We know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him – possibly because he's an alcoholic; more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic – quite correctly, I'm afraid."
John looks down at his leg and cane and shuffles his feet awkwardly.
"That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?" Sherlock said a bit smug, which caused him to get elbowed by Dare, which he gave her an annoyed look for.
They turn and walk to the door again, opening it and going through, but then leans back into the room again.
"The name's Sherlock Holmes and the address is two one B Baker Street." before he click-winks at John, then looks round at Mike. "Afternoon."
Dare only rolls her eyes at her brother's actions before turning to John "My name is Delores Holmes but call me Dare, and we have a common friend, I'm pretty sure he won't introduce you to killers." Giving him a friendly smile before following her brother out the door.
Mike raises a finger in farewell as Sherlock and Dare disappear from the room. As the door slams shut behind them, John turns and looks at Mike in disbelief. Mike smiles and nods to him. "Yeah. They're always like that."
Later John has returned to his bedsit. Sitting down on the bed, he takes out his mobile phone and flicks through the menu to find Messages Sent. The last message reads
If brother has green ladder
arrest brother.
SH
Puzzled, John looks at the message for a long moment, then looks across to the table where his laptop is lying. He pushes himself to his feet and walks over to the table. Shortly afterwards, he has called up a search website called Quest and types "Sherlock Holmes and Delores Holmes" into the search box.
Later at Baker's Street John limps along the road and reaches the door marked 221B just as a black cab pulls up at the kerb. John knocks on the door as Sherlock and Dare get out of the cab.
"Hello." Sherlock says before he reaches through the window of the cab and hands some money to the cab driver.
"Hi." Dare said when Sherlock was paying the cabbie.
"Ah, Mr. Holmes, Miss. Holmes."
"Sherlock, please." Sherlock says when the shake hands.
"And just Dare" Dare said when while shaking hands with John after him and Sherlock were done.
"Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive." John commented.
"Oh, Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, she's giving us a special deal. Owes us a favour. A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out." Sherlock said.
"Sorry, you stopped her husband being executed?" John asked confused.
"Oh no. we ensured it." Dare answered.
Sherlock smiles at John as the front door is opened by a lady with curly gray hair and a short dress who opens her arms to the siblings. "Sherlock and Dare, hello."
Sherlock turns and walks into her arms, hugging her briefly, shortly after Dare also giving the older woman a brief hug. Once Dare steps back and Sherlock presents John to Mrs. Hudson. "Mrs. Hudson, Doctor John Watson."
"Hello." Mrs. Hudson said.
"How do?" John replies.
Mrs. Hudson gestures John inside "Come in."
"Thank you."
"Shall we?" Sherlock asked.
"Yeah." Mrs. Hudson replies. The trio go inside and Mrs. Hudson closes the door. Sherlock trots up the stairs to the first floor, then pauses and waits for John to hobble upstairs. Sherlock and Dare share a look as if to say we have to get rid of that cane.' As John reaches the top of the stairs, Sherlock opens the door ahead of them and walks in then Dare follows, revealing the living room of the flat. John follows him in and looks around the room and at all the possessions and boxes scattered around it.
"Well, this could be very nice. Very nice indeed." John says after getting a good look around the flat.
"Yes. Yes, I think so. My thoughts precisely." Sherlock says happily looking around the flat. Dare smiled at the flat.
"So we went straight ahead and moved in." Sherlock said at the same tine John says "Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out ... Oh."
John pauses, embarrassed, as he realises what Sherlock was saying.
"So this is all ..."
"Well, obviously I can, um, straighten things up a bit." Dare said attempting to get rid of the awkwardness in the room.
Sherlock walks across the room and makes a half-hearted attempt to tidy up a little, throwing a couple of folders into a box and then taking some apparently unopened envelopes across to the fireplace where he puts them onto the mantelpiece and then stabs a multi tool knife into them. While Dare tidies up the desk and moves some boxes around. During the siblings half-hearted attempt at cleaning John has noticed something else on the mantelpiece and lifts his cane to point at it. "That's a skull."
"Friend of mine." Sherlock replys "When I say 'friend' ..."
Mrs. Hudson has followed them into the room. She picks up a cup and saucer as Sherlock takes off his greatcoat and scarf and Dare takes of her leather jacket.
"What do you think, then, Doctor Watson? There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing two bedrooms and Dare has her own room of course." Mrs. Hudson says
"Of course we'll be needing two." John says awkwardly.
"Oh, don't worry; there's all sorts round here. " she Mrs. Hudson says before dropping her voice to a whisper "Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones."
John looks across to Sherlock, expecting him to confirm that he and John are not involved in that way but Sherlock appears oblivious to what's being insinuated then turns to Dare who is trying not to laugh at what Mrs. Hudson assumed the relationship between the two men were. Mrs. Hudson walks across to the kitchen, then turns back and frowns at Sherlock and Dare.
"Oh, Sherlock, Dare. The mess you two made." Dare gave the older woman a sheepish look while Sherlock ignored the comment.
As she goes into the kitchen and starts tidying up, John walks over to one of the two armchairs, plumps up a cushion on the chair and then drops heavily down into it. He looks across to Sherlock and Dare who are still tidying up a little.
"I looked you two up on the internet last night." John said.
Sherlock turned around to him, and Dare gave him a curious look "Anything interesting?" Sherlock asked.
"Found your website, The Science of Deduction."
Sherlock smiled proudly "What did you think?"
John gives him a 'you have got to be kidding me' type of look. Sherlock looks hurt and Dare pats him on the back.
"You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb." John says dubiously.
"Yes; and I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother's drinking habits in your mobile phone." Sherlock replies defensively, offended that John didn't' like his website.
"How?"
Sherlock smiles and turns away while Dare smirks and stops cleaning and sits in the seat across from John. John turns to Dare and says "And you, how is it possible to graduate high school at the age of 10, and have a masters in criminology, theoretical physics, astronomy, and a doctorate in phsysclogy, and publish a book on the 'Basics of Theoretical Physics.'?! How is that possible you don't look older than 18."
"It's quite simple really" Dare replied still smirking. Sherlock scoffed at her answer, which she raised an eyebrow at him.
"How so?" John asked.
Dare leans forward and John follows her lead and leans forward as well, then she whispers "I'm clever."
John gave her an 'are you serious look' just as Mrs. Hudson comes out of the kitchen reading the newspaper.
"What about these suicides then, Sherlock? I thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same."
Sherlock walks over to the window of the living room as a car pulls up outside. "Four." He corrected. Dare got up from her seat to sand beside her brother to look outside the window.
They look down at the car as someone gets out of it. The vehicle is a police car with its lights flashing on the roof.
"There's been a fourth. And there's something different this time." He explained.
"A fourth?" Mrs. Hudson asked
Sherlock and Dare turn as D.I. Lestrade (who apparently must have picked the lock on the front door ... like you do ...) trots up the stairs and comes into the living room.
"Where?" Sherlock asked.
"Brixton, Lauriston Gardens." The Detective answered.
"What's new about this one? You wouldn't have come to get us if there wasn't something different." Dare stated.
"You know how they never leave notes?"
"Yeah." Sherlock answered.
"This one did. Will you come?"
"Who's on forensics?"
"It's Anderson."
Sherlock grimaced "Anderson won't work with me."
John noticed that Dare didn't elbow Sherlock at his reaction; she must not get along with this Anderson guy.
"Well, he won't be your assistant."
"I need an assistant."
"What about Dare?" Lestrade said sounding annoyed with how Sherlock is acting.
"I need someone who isn't at my IQ level"
"And I'm no one's assistant" Dare added sounding peeved at the suggestion of being an assistant.
"Will you come?" Lestrade asked.
"Not in a police car. We'll be right behind." Sherlock ansewerd.
"Thank you." He said, then looking round at John and Mrs. Hudson for a moment. He turns and hurries off down the stairs. Sherlock waits until he has reached the front door, then leaps into the air and clenches his fists triumphantly before twirling around the room happily. Dare shakes her head at her brother's twisted reaction to murder.
"Brilliant! Yes! Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note! Oh, it's Christmas!"
Picking up his scarf and coat he starts to put them on as he heads for the kitchen. While Dare puts on her jacket and scarf and heads down stairs.
"Mrs. Hudson, We'll be late. Might need some food."
"I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper." Mrs. Hudson reminded him.
"Something cold will do. John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up!" Sherlock said not even phased with Mrs. Hudson's reply.
Grabbing a small leather pouch from the kitchen table, he opens the kitchen door and disappears from view. Mrs. Hudson turns back to John.
"Look at him, dashing about! My husband was just the same." Mrs. Hudson said. John grimaces at her repeated implication that he and Sherlock are an item. 'At least she doesn't think that me and Dare are an item' John thought.
"But you're more the sitting-down type, I can tell." Mrs. Hudson continued.
John looks uncomfortable.
Mrs. Hudson turns towards the door "I'll make you that cuppa. You rest your leg."
"Damn my leg!" John says loudly. His response was instinctive and he is immediately apologetic as Mrs. Hudson turns back to him in shock. "Sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just sometimes this bloody thing ..." He bashes his leg with his cane.
"I understand, dear; I've got a hip." She said as she turns towards the door again.
"Cup of tea'd be lovely, thank you."
"Just this once, dear. I'm not your housekeeper."
"Couple of biscuits too, if you've got 'em."
"Not your housekeeper!"
John has picked up the newspaper which Mrs. Hudson put down and now he looks at the article reporting Beth Davenport's apparent suicide. Next to a large photograph of Beth is a smaller one showing the man who just visited the flat and identifying him as D.I. Lestrade. Before he can read on, Sherlock's voice interrupts him and John looks up and sees him and Dare standing at the living room door. "You're a doctor. In fact you're an Army doctor."
"Yes."
He gets to his feet and turns towards Sherlock as he comes back into the room again while Dare remains by the doorway.
"Any good?" Dare questioned.
"Very good."
"Seen a lot of injuries, then; violent deaths." Sherlock said.
"Mmm, yes."
"Bit of trouble too, I bet." Dare questioned although it sounded more like a statement.
John quietly replied "Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much."
"Wanna see some more?" Sherlock asked.
John answered fervently "Oh God, yes."
Dare walks Down the stairs when Sherlock spins on his heel and leads John out of the room and down the stairs. John calls out as he follows him down. "Sorry, Mrs. Hudson, I'll skip the tea. Off out."
Mrs. Hudson questioned while standing near the bottom of the stairs "The Three of you?"
Sherlock has almost reached the front door but now turns and walks back towards her While Dare was out the door trying to hail a cab.
"Impossible suicides? Four of them? There's no point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!" Sherlock says excitedly.
He takes her by the shoulders and kisses her noisily on the cheek.
"Look at you, all happy. It's not decent." she can't help but smile, though, as he turns away and heads for the front door again.
"Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!"
He walks out onto the street and approaches a black cab that Dare managed to hail down while Dare inside giving the cabbie the location. He and John get in, then the car drives off again and heads for Brixton. The trio sit in silence for a long time while Sherlock sits in the middle with his eyes fixed on his smartphone and Dare is working on a brand new crossword booklet that she managed to swipe when they were still in the flat. John keeps stealing nervous glances at them. Finally Sherlock lowers his phone. "Okay, you've got questions."
"Yeah, where are we going?"
"Crime scene. Next?" Dare answered without looking up from the booklet.
"Why don't you two look alike if you're siblings?"
"Dare was adopted when she was 2 months old." Sherlock answered "Next?"
"Oh, okay. Then who are you two? What do you do?"
"What do you think?" Sherlock answered with another question.
John hesitantly says "I'd say private detectives ..."
"But?" Dare asks looking at John.
"... but the police don't go to private detectives."
"We're consulting detectives. Only ones in the world. I invented the job." Sherlock answered and Dare elbowing his side at his last comment, he gave her an annoyed look before turning back to John.
"What does that mean?"
"It means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult us."
"The police don't consult amateurs."
The siblings give him a look.
"When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said, "Afghanistan or Iraq?" You looked surprised."
"Yes, how did you know?"
This time Dare answered after putting away her booklet "He didn't know, he saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself says military. But your conversation as you entered the room...
(Flashback to the lab at Bart's)
John looking around the lab "Bit different from my day."
"... said trained at Bart's, so Army doctor – obvious. Your face is tanned but no tan above the wrists. You've been abroad, but not sunbathing. Your limp's really bad when you walk but you don't ask for a chair when you stand, like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic." (back to the present) "Wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan – Afghanistan or Iraq."
"He said I had a therapist."
"You've got a psychosomatic limp – of course you've got a therapist. " Sherlock said, then added "Then there's your brother."
"Hmm?"
Sherlock holds his hand out "Your phone. It's expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player, but you're looking for a flatshare – you wouldn't waste money on this. It's a gift, then." By now John has given him the phone and he turns it over and looks at it again as he talks.
"Scratches. Not one, many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn't treat his one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. Next bit's easy. You know it already."
"The engraving." John said.
Engraved on the back of the phone are the words
Harry Watson
From Clara
xxx
Sherlock continues "Harry Watson: clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to, so brother it is. Now, Clara. Who's Clara? Three kisses says it's a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently – this model's only six months old. Marriage in trouble then – six months on he's just given it away. If she'd left him, he would have kept it. People do – sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you: that says he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation, but you're not going to your brother for help: that says you've got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife; maybe you don't like his drinking."
"How can you possibly know about the drinking?"
Sherlock smiles "Shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection: tiny little scuff marks around the edge of it. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man's phone; never see a drunk's without them."
He hands the phone back.
"There you go, you see – you were right."
"I was right? Right about what?"
"The police don't consult amateurs." Dare answered while staring out the window.
Sherlock looks out of the side window, biting his lip nervously as he awaits John's reaction.
"That ... was amazing."
Sherlock and Dare look round, apparently so surprised that they can't even reply for the next four seconds.
"Do you think so?" Dare asks.
"Of course it was. It was extraordinary; it was quite extraordinary."
"That's not what people normally say." Sherlock says.
"What do people normally say?"
Sherlock and Dare answer at the same time "Piss off!"
Sherlock and Dare smile briefly at John, who grins and turns away to look out of the window as the journey continues.
At Brixton. The cab has arrived at Lauriston Gardens and Sherlock, Dare, and John get out and walk towards the police tape strung across the road.
"Did I get anything wrong?" Sherlock asks.
"Harry and me don't get on, never have. Clara and Harry split up three months ago and they're getting a divorce; and Harry is a drinker." John confirmed Sherlock's theory.
Sherlock replied looking impressed with himself "Spot on, then. I didn't expect to be right about everything."
"And Harry's short for Harriet."
Sherlock stops dead in his tracks. Dare couldn't help but laugh at her brothers expression.
"Harry's your sister." Sherlock stated.
John continues onwards "Look, what exactly am I supposed to be doing here?"
Sherlock furiously says through gritted teeth "Sister!" While Dare is trying to stop giggling.
"No, seriously, what am I doing here?"
Sherlock exasperated, starting to walk again, ignoring John's question "There's always something."
They approach the police tape where they are met by Sergeant Donovan.
"Hello freaks." Donavan said. Dare quickly sobered up and rolled her eyes at Donavan's comment.
"We're here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade." Sherlock said ignoring Donavon's comment.
"Why?"
"We're invited."
"Why?"
Dare replies sarcastically "I think he wants us to take a look."
"Well, you know what I think, don't you?"
Sherlock lifts the tape and letting Dare duck under it before he ducks underneath it "Always, Sally." he breathes in through his nose. "I even know you didn't make it home last night."
"I don't ..." she looks at John "Er, who's this?"
"Colleague of ours, Doctor Watson."
He turns to John.
"Doctor Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan." Sherlock says before his voice drips with sarcasm "Old friend.
"A colleague? How do you get a colleague?!"
She turns to John. "What, did he follow you home?"
"Would it be better if I just waited and ..."
Sherlock and Dare both lifted the tape and said "No."
As John walks under the tape, Donovan lifts a radio to her mouth." Freaks are here. Bringing them in."
She leads the trio towards the house. Sherlock and Dare look all around the area and at the ground as they approach. As they reach the pavement, a man dressed in a coverall comes out of the house.
"Ah, Anderson. Here we are again." Sherlock says.
Anderson looks at him with distaste. "It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?"
Sherlock taking in another deep breath through his nose "Quite clear. And is your wife away for long?"
"Oh, don't pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you that."
"Your deodorant told me that."
"My deodorant?"
Dare smirks and says "It's for men."
"Well, of course it's for men! I'm wearing it!" Anderson said getting annoyed by the siblings.
Sherlock says "So is Sergeant Donovan."
Anderson looks round in shock at Donovan. Dare sniffs pointedly.
"Ooh, and I think it just vaporised. May we go in?" Dare said looking smug.
Anderson turning back and pointing at them angrily "Now look: whatever you're trying to imply ..."
"We're not implying anything." Sherlock says.
They head past Donovan towards the front door.
Sherlock says "I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over."
Dare turns back. "And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees."
Anderson and Donovan stare at them in horror. they smile smugly, then turns and goes into the house. John walks past Donovan, briefly but pointedly looking down to her knees, then follows Sherlock and Dare inside. Sherlock leads them into a room on the ground floor where Lestrade is putting on a coverall. Sherlock points to a pile of similar items.
Sherlock turns to John "You need to wear one of these."
"Who's this?" Lestrade asks when he realises that the homes brought a guest.
"He's with us." Dare answered.
"But who is he?"
"I said he's with us."
John has taken his jacket off and picks up a coverall. He looks at Sherlock and Dare who have each picked up a pair of latex gloves.
John refers to the coverall "Aren't you two gonna put one on?"
Sherlock and Dare just look at him sternly. John shakes his head as if to say, 'Silly me. What was I thinking?!'
Sherlock asks Lestrade "So where are we?"
Lestrade replies while picking up another pair of latex gloves "Upstairs."