Sherlock paced the floor of the museum and occasionally threw cold glances at the main entrance. He was not in a good mood. First of all there was no tea in the flat, John had not gone shopping, he had run out of nicotine patches, John had not gone shopping, and then Lestrade had phoned him, promised it was a very good case that he desperately needed Sherlock's help on, turns out John had phoned Lestrade in a fit of desperation as Sherlock was "Driving him up the wall." However the case was nothing spectacular, an ancient relic had gone missing and it was worth immense value, Sherlock already knew who the thief was. To top it all off the people who they were waiting for, one being the thief, were running late.
"Sherlock, will you quit with the pacing! They'll be here shortly," John grabbed hold of Sherlock's shoulder and pushed him down into a nearby chair, Sherlock glared up at John,
"You said that 15 minutes ago and of course they are still not here. I have an experiment to get back to, a very important one." With that he folded his arms and huffed impatiently. With Sherlock pouting away and John starring down at him with his hands on his hips, Donovan was reminded of a parent dealing with a petulant teenager, she wasn't envious of John's role one bit.
"Figuring out the stages of decomposing flesh in different environments is not important, considering the fact you've already completed it!" Sherlock went to interrupt but John cut him off,
"Two months ago! You said yourself that it was a success and that I no longer had to worry about smelling of corpses as you were finished."
Sherlock continued to stare at the floor, muttering under his breath while John marched back Lestrade. The museum had fallen quiet as everybody had given up talking a while ago, despite not approving of Sherlock many would have to agree with him that the waiting was getting tiring. The two members of staff that would be letting them in the vaults below were running over two hours late, many were starting to wonder if they had run off with the relic and if they had all been stitched up, when the two came hurtling through the door.
"I'm so sorry! My car broke down, can't believe I've only had it for a week. We had to wait for the mechanics."
The person who spoke was the female of the two, her speech was slightly slurred. Could be tiredness or perhaps hung over? She was small and slender, probably only just reached about 5' 5". With messy blonde hair snatched back in a bun and no makeup she had obviously been in a rush this morning. Sherlock noted that her boots which would have normally been laced up, had the laces stuffed inside and her t-shirt was too small for her, rising up to show off a toned stomach, before she would pull it down. Yet her nails told a different story, they were beautifully manicured, recently done too, put that with the good condition of her skin and her well toned figure this was someone who took some pride in her appearance. Yet today she was a mess, and knew it too, if the running of her hand through her hair was anything to go by. What interrupted her this morning to spoil her routine?
The man was smiling nervously and was repeating the woman's apologises. He didn't seem sure on what to do with his hands, shoving them into the pockets of his navy jeans, then pulling the hem of his shirt before thrusting them into the pockets of his blazer where he appeared to be messing with a phone. He on the other hand did seem more prepared then she was. Hair styled, shaved this morning too, Sherlock could just see a small cut under the right side of his jaw. Clothes were designer and shoes recently polished; he reckoned if he got closer, Sherlock would be able to see his face in the black leather. This was someone who also took pride in how he looked, perhaps a bit more than the woman. Yet how did a man, who worked in a museum, afford such clothes and shoes?
John motioned with his hand to Sherlock to come closer, he hoped that Sherlock had calmed down enough, if he hadn't there were going to be tears. Sherlock would get extremely blunt when he was annoyed, and nothing made him more annoyed than tardiness.
"Lily Harley and Arthur Morrison?" asked Lestrade. The two nodded and Lily pulled out her ID badge, which she dropped. She bent down to pick it up but very nearly lost her balance. Arthur knelt down and helped her to pick it up before helping her up; he then pulled out his own ID badge. Lestrade gave them a quick glance over before handing them back. Lily once again dropped hers and she hastily picked it up,
"Sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me this morning. Um, we tried phoning but I must have written the number down wrong," Lily waved a little scrap of paper where a phone number was just visible.
"I gave Arthur my card," Lestrade turned to Arthur, "Did you misplace it?" Arthur blushed furiously,
"I left it in my jeans pocket and I put them in the wash, sorry."
"Well, as fascinating as this story is, could we please get on with it? We have a thief to catch after all." They all turned to face Sherlock who was striding towards them, a look of complete boredom upon his face.
"Yes, of course. Follow me, I'll show you where we were keeping the relic." Lily placed her pass over her neck and pushed her shoulder satchel back into place, "This way."
They followed her though the museum, until they reached a set of double doors which was locked by a code, Lily paused for a couple of minutes before typing in the pin, frowning when the screen flashed red.
"Damn it," she muttered, she tried again, only this time she pressed too many numbers. She rubbed her forehead furiously,
"Arthur, do you mind? I can't seem to concentrate on the numbers." Arthur leaned over and punched in the correct pin. Lily smiled apologetically,
"Sorry, must have had a restless night." She pushed the doors open and led them into one of the many rooms along the corridor.
Lestrade looked around the room, there were papers covering the side counters and photos pinned on the wall, and a lone table lay empty in the middle of the room.
"What's this room used for?" he asked, while watching Sherlock flick through a bunch papers.
"It's where the relic is kept while we document anything significant and take photos of it. Then it will placed into storage till a place can be found for it," explained Arthur, he pointed to a large A3 piece of paper on the wall, "It was going to be one of the main pieces for our Ancient Eras Exhibition that's going to start in July, it would have been the feature from the Egyptian era."
John peered at the poster that Arthur had been pointing at. Somebody had drawn what the exhibition would look like; each entrance was designed to look like a particular building. He could just about see that the Roman part would have taken the look of a Roman villa.
"Who drew this?" he asked. Lily timidly put her hand up,
"I did, I do art has a side project." John gave her a warm smile, trying to put her at ease,
"It's very good."
Sherlock snorted from his side of the room. Everybody jumped, as though they had forgotten he was there.
"What's your problem?" demanded Arthur, "You've been sulking since we brought you down here. Who is he?" he spun around to face Lestrade who was looking slightly annoyed and embarrassed at Sherlock's attitude.
"That is Sherlock Holmes, he's a consulting detective. We call him to help us on particular difficult cases." It was Arthur's turn to snort,
"Consulting detective? Are you taking the piss?"
"Arthur!" scolded Lily, "Don't talk like that. I seriously doubt the Detective would make something up like that. Let them do their job." Arthur gestured frantically at Sherlock, desperately trying to rectify the situation,
"But he snorted at your work, he was insulting you!"
"He has his own opinion, and plus they are not here to admire my work. They are here to find the thief." A tense silence filled the room. Arthur stared in disbelief at Lily who met his gaze with a look of challenge.
John took the decision to end the awkward scene,
"Right," he clapped his hands together, "Why don't we make a start then? Sherlock got any ideas?"
Sherlock leant against the side counter, schooling his expression into a blank look; however a smug grin was quite evident on his face.
"Of course I do. I've known as soon as met as I these two." Donovan looked furious, "What? Why the hell didn't you speak up sooner?"
Sherlock smirked, "Because the climax is only as good as the build up."
"For God's sake Sherlock just tell us, who is it?" asked John.
"You."
Everyone turned to who Sherlock was pointing at. Lily was in complete disbelief.
"Arthur?" She spun back round to face Sherlock, "What the hell makes you think it was Arthur? You've got it all wrong!"
"I assure you I haven't. It will all become very obvious when I point out the facts." He stood up and began circling Arthur, staring down at him like prey,
"When you both came in I noticed that you, Lily, were a complete mess, you obviously haven't done your hair and you put your clothes in a rush hence choosing the t-shirt that was too small for you. However it all didn't seem right, your nails and figure show that you take some level of pride in your appearance or you at least like to look presentable. So what could have caused you to dress like this?"
Lily was pulling her cardigan round her t-shirt, not that it mattered; everybody had seen exactly what Sherlock had pointed out.
"I overslept, my alarm didn't go off, I must have forgotten to set it." Sherlock smiled, stopping in his circling of Arthur, standing at his back,
"Oh I seriously doubt that. Am I right Arthur?" Arthur had gone extremely pale and had not once spoken; it was like fear gripped him by its hand.
"Your alarm did not fail to go off by accident, oh no, it was because Arthur here cancelled it; while you were sleeping. He wanted you to oversleep. So he could make his getaway with the relic and perhaps even place the blame on you. Just long enough so he would be long gone." Lily stared at Arthur,
"Arthur, tell me he's wrong," still Arthur didn't speak; he had averted his eyes and was staring at the floor.
"And it's to my understanding that is not the worst thing that Arthur has done. Lily you come across as the type of person who is a light sleeper, someone who would have woken up if someone came into their room, correct?" Lily nodded slowly, John stepped forward and gently guided her onto a stool; she had gone slightly grey.
"Then how did Arthur sneak into your room last night and turn off your alarm without waking you up?" Sherlock continued, "He drugged you." Arthur slumped into a chair that rested next to him, while Lily went green. John placed a supportive arm around her shoulders.
"Last night you gave me a shot of whiskey, something to settle the nerves you said, I felt really weird, thought it was the alcohol mixing with my medication. Oh god," she placed her heads into her hands, trembling slightly.
Lestrade turned to Donovan,
"See if you can find some water for her, I think I saw a canteen at the end of the corridor," she gave a short nod and left the room.
"Please continue Sherlock." Sherlock continued to stare down at Arthur, who was trying to make himself as small as possible.
"I believe you were drugged as you displayed the symptoms of the drug Flunitrazepam, more commonly known as Rohypnol. Your speech was slightly slurred and your movements slow and uncoordinated. You dropped your pass several times and when it came to entering the pin to unlock the doors, Arthur had to step in, as you were unable to concentrate on the numbers. I'm also guessing the trouble of your car had to do with have your feeling?"
"Yeah, I stupidly put diesel in rather than petrol. I," she stopped suddenly and sat up sharply to look at Arthur, "This morning you insisted we catch the bus, you were the one who passed me the pump at the station! You knew we would be at risk if I were to drive!"
Arthur stood up and tired to make his way over to Lily, but was blocked by John,
"Lily, please! I didn't want you to get hurt. I drugged you because I figured it was the best way. I never wanted you to take the blame. You have to believe me!" Sherlock grabbed hold of Arthur's shoulder and pulled him back into the chair,
"Save it, you knew full well what you were doing. You don't drug someone on impulse. You bought the drugs with the intent on using her as a scapegoat. You're nothing but a lowly criminal; a complete waste of my time. You didn't even steal the relic for something interesting, I'm guessing you have debts to pay off, there's no way someone on your wage could afford designer gear." He leaned in, staring intently at Arthur, barely blinking. "You didn't even take the relic out the museum did you? Lestrade if you check the back of the museum where the rubbish is taken you should find it there," he pulled back, "Like I said, a complete waste of my time."
Arthur exploded, in a split second he had Sherlock on his back and got in a punch before he was pulled off and subdued. Lily had pinned Arthur to the floor, wrenching his right arm behind his arm and twisting it when he tried to struggle. She pushed him further into the floor,
"And you thought those self defence classes would never come in handy. I guess you have to eat your words don't you." Lestrade bent down next to her and cuffed him, before reading out his rights. John helped Lily to her feet, then turned round to Sherlock who was rubbing his cheek,
"You ok? He didn't knock out any teeth?"
"He wishes," Sherlock stood up, slightly shaky but John could see he was alright, "and I had it covered." he added to Lily. Lily simply smiled,
"Of course you did."