Taxi!
Set: Post TSiP
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Sherlock & John belong to ACD, & the BBC. I just get to play with the characters minds!
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The Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson
28th February:
Taxi!
I worked it out - finally.
Yes, I know I'm way slower than Sherlock and, knowing him as I do, I should have reached this conclusion weeks ago, but I'm still chuffed to have finally solved it without any assistance whatsoever!
See, it's just that sometimes the whole 'Super-Genius Consulting Detective' thing makes me feel so much like a complete imbecile that I actually forget that I have a more than adequate IQ and have managed to make my own way in the world for close to two decades - without the help of any member of the Holmes family, I might add!
Of course I wasn't out trying to solve London's Greatest Murder Mysteries at that time.
The thing is, when tagging along after Sherlock, it's become almost a habit for me to cede responsibility for all decisions - no matter how trivial - to him. He gets there so much quicker, after all!
It ought to be quite depressing - if it wasn't so bloody incredible! A part of me wishes I'd paid more attention to the psychology lectures during my time at St. Bart's. Sherlock would've made a wonderful study for cognitive abilities!
Anywho …
It had been puzzling me for a while now as to how Sherlock is always guaranteed to find a cab whenever he wanted one.
Immediately.
In the centre of London, or anywhere else. Every time, no matter what the time.
I mean, have you really tried to get a London Cab by just standing by the curb and sticking your hand out? Really? 'Cos I've got to say, it never really worked for me … until, that is, I started sharing with Sherlock Holmes.
It was Jeff - the cabby from the Study in Pink case - that first got me thinking about it.
That and the rather quite reasonable fares we were charged. I mean, how else could we afford to use them so much?
So when Tony confirmed my suspicions I just had to get the full details…
It seems that a few years ago, a young cabbie was shot by a fare he'd picked up late one night in Soho. The man had a wife and young son, and had been popular with both his workmates and the public in general – in as far as they paid any attention to their cabbies!
The police had no clues about the low-life who'd killed the man, seemingly over an insignificant fare. And this was where Sherlock stepped in.
It took him less than a day to deduce that the perpetrator was a jealous ex-boyfriend of the cabbie's wife, trace the man to a pub in the East End and convince the police of his guilt. Brilliant!
The other cabbies were so grateful (and Sherlock wouldn't accept payment for his efforts) that they decided they would make sure he always had a taxi when he needed one, going so far as to recently having a permanent cab rank set up at the nearest corner to the flat on Baker St!
He, of course has always known this – even if he doesn't actually acknowledge the fact. Or explain the details to his flatmate!
What he hasn't worked out is that the fares he is charged are quite generously reduced too.
I put this down to his spectacular lack of interest in the day-to-day side of life - yes I do know you're going to be reading this, Sherlock! - like never wanting to buy the milk, or never using the pin-and-chip machine. It's like he has a blank spot in that oversized brain of his – almost an aversion to the mundane. As long as he can get from A to B as fast as possible, the money side of things is immaterial!
So, now I know.
And now I'm also a recipient of this largesse, courtesy of being Sherlock's flatmate. Which explains why there always seems to be a cab handy on those particularly rainy days when I leave Tesco's, or when we leave Scotland Yard or St. Bart's. Whichever driver drops us off phones ahead, so to speak, and another of their number is always cruising the vicinity ready to pick him up!
When I asked him if this practise doesn't cost them other fares, Tony told me that they consider it worth the cost.
Along with Angelo, Mrs Hudson and Wei Chang at our local Chinese restaurant, Sherlock seems to have a rather large number of ordinary, 'dull' people who are more than delighted to help him out.
Not too bad for a 'sociopath'!
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