Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes whether the original written novels by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle or the BBC variety belonging to Moffat and Gatiss. I make no profit from this.
Summary: University!Sherlock gets wagered to solve a mystery. No spoilers.
A Dummy's Dip
Of course, Sherlock had heard all about the latest prank not only through gossip but also from the professors. Yesterday at quarter to five, the swim team's head coach, Mr. Jennings, came into the pool area for a bit of a shock. The pool water had turned to a shiny red colour, bearing great semblance to blood and towards the left end of the pool floated an inflatable plastic dummy; placed upon a buoy and tied to it a tarp which read: "Watch out, H.J." in bright red paint.
Rumors flounced in and out of students' and professors' mouths of the message being meant for a number of different people; ranging from the reasonable to the outright preposterous the first being Headmaster Jacobsen, a former member of the swim team varsity himself. The sudden removal and increase in student policy was said to be the cause, for just this semester, an alarming number of students were expelled, removed or kicked out. Others say, it was meant for the head coach himself, his initials being Harold Jennings.
Sherlock dismissed it as yet another one of his batch mate's relentless pranks. After all, why should he be concerned as to the mischief instated by some random lout out to irritate the administration? This, he would leave to the prefects seeing as they'd had enough of his help already. All he'd done was to contribute vital insight and a means of procuring evidence to a number of the incidents at the university. He'd pointed out; more likely, directly lead them to the rather obvious location and culprit of the missing trophy. He'd also worked out whom and how people had been bypassing the library security and hid a number of prohibited items in books. They could manage this by themselves, as far as he was concerned. Besides, he had a number of experiments to attend to at the labs.
That afternoon, at study hall, Rick Ward and his group of insufferable idiots, came to pester Sherlock, again. He'd become one of their favorites on the count of his having exposed not only their numerous pranks, but also their bad habit of keeping numerous girlfriends.
In fact, very few people could tolerate Sherlock and none could be considered his friend. He kept to himself, only interacting to point out things he found important or things which he knew would get certain people off his back, for instance, he could often tell who and whom someone had been with last night and what they'd been doing. His keen ability to do so had not only irked his classmates but had rather created a gap between them. Well, that and Sherlock's generally abrasive manner. He garnered top marks which no one could say he didn't deserve because he not only showed it; he proved it often in the manner of schooling his professors which at times got him trouble.
Sherlock often tried his best to keep his mouth shut when opportunities like this arose; he would concentrate and ignore the idiots and soon enough they would leave off. This time though, Ward and his gang seemingly couldn't get enough. Sherlock established that it was because of their slight inebriation. Freak, know-it-all, and nark they mocked him. Ward slightly irritated at Sherlock's lack of response, reached for Sherlock's shoulder and attempted to shove him to get a reaction. This did not sit well with him. He promptly dodged and Ward fell face first to the floor. Sherlock continued reading but Ward's gang fell silent. Suddenly, all eyes were on them.
"Think you're so clever, eh?" Ward teased as he rose and straightened his clothes. "Well then why don't you figure out why everyone hates you, then?" At this, Sherlock stiffened, for though it was common knowledge, no one had ever openly brought up Sherlock's lack of friends and in such an offensive manner. He'd been respected by most and left well enough alone, to his preference. To his knowledge, he'd never been so blatantly insulted. Ward, still on his tirade continued, "I'll wager you then, that if you catch who dyed the pool by tomorrow at study hall, I'll leave you well enough alone until I get out of Uni."
Sherlock, who could rarely refuse a challenge and this so plainly declared and to insult him, was ever so tempting. Numerous bets, challenges, wagers, and contests that Sherlock had participated in from little wagers with Mycroft to bets with his classmates as to who'd done what and how he could prove it.
Mycroft's voice rang out in his head: "Don't create any more mischief for yourself. The year's almost over. All you've got to do is tough it out." But wouldn't it be a shame for him to let this fool continue to ridicule him? And wouldn't this ensure that he'd no longer be bothered the rest of his stay at Uni?
"What are the terms?" Sherlock queried. At this, Ward sneered and replied, "You catch who did it, and I leave off for the rest of Uni. You don't catch who did it, and well, let's just say that things are going to get a bit hard on you."
"Okay," Sherlock replied, "But if I do catch who did it, you also have to give back everything you and your gang have nicked from everyone." There was a rash of missing things and lost property around the university and it wasn't a difficult deduction that it had been them. Ward considered this for a moment, not hesitating to consult his posse for the intense stares of everyone at the hall still lay on them, answered: "Okay. We have a deal then." He raised his hand in false bravado indicating that they shake hands. Sherlock firmly shook his hand and returned to his reading. Ward and company marched off.
That evening, Sherlock returned to his dormitory contemplating what he was to do. He knew instantly that he must gather data. How, he would do this, was the question. It was too late and the part of his maintenance network which could better gather data seeing as they worked during daylight hours rather than at night when no one was around was without a doubt retiring to their specific homes. He would ask them tomorrow but he needed to get on it now. He'd seen the pool on his way to the botanical gardens that morning to collect some samples from Professor Davis. It was indeed as described and had already been set to work at being cleaned.
Perhaps if he hurried, he could still reach the pool in time. Bell, the janitor who worked the nightshift in that area would undoubtedly let him pass after he'd tracked figured out who and how had been stealing from his supply closet.
The sound of a computer starting and the noisy chatter of a classmate on the phone buzzed in the background. Why, of course! Sherlock wondered why he hadn't thought of it until now. He strolled to the IT department, was let in by Mitchell, the nightshift guard. He stood at the entrance and went to start up the last computer, hidden behind a pillar for of course where else would one be tempted to employ illicit websites? He opened a browser and typed the name of a popular social networking site. Just as he'd suspected, the fool had not thought to log out and had left his account vulnerable to any who wish to use it.
The account belonged to Reid Wallace, who happened to attend one of the same classes as him. He scrolled through the pages and found numerous "statuses" concerning the incident. They were calling it the prank of the year for not only was it well executed in their eyes but it also baffled the members of the administration that investigated it. He found his way to the University paper's website and was about to exit it seeing as he'd already read the article on the published edition but stopped upon seeing a picture. It was enlarged and of better quality than that of the actual paper. On this one, he noticed that the right side of the pool had not been cropped out and he could see the door leading to the swim team's varsity dormitories ajar. On the other side of the pool, he saw muddy footprints from the door leading into the pool area on the left side.
He left the website, returned to the account, opened a chat box and typed, "So, any ideas on who pulled the pool stunt?" trying to sound as simple and as general as he could. It was common sounding and inconspicuous enough considering the amount of buzz on the topic. A "friend" of Wallace promptly answered, "Everyone thinks it was Doug on the count that he's about to get kicked out. He failed three classes, and the professors aren't too happy about him either." The letters stopped for a moment and re appeared saying: "Why? What's up, bro?" Sherlock did not know how to answer this and promptly typed: "Thank you for your insight, bro." in an attempt to mimic what was last said and then exited the browser and shut down the computer.
This bit of conventional wisdom was enough for him. He left the IT department and rushed to the pool area where Bell, smiled and let him in. "What you looking for, eh, Sherlock?" Bell asked. "Trying to find out who pulled the prank, Bell." Sherlock answered.
Sherlock saw that the pool had not been completely cleaned and drained and there was still about 3 feet of the red liquid still in the pool and stains where the rest of the water had been. All the rest of the evidence, including footprints and other clues which might've been around the pool and the dummy itself, were gone.
"Any idea where the dummy is, Bell?" Sherlock ventured. "Oh, it's over there in the closet." Sherlock stepped inside the closet and flicked on the light switch to see the dummy, the buoy, the tarp and some cleaning materials. Sherlock crouched to get a closer look. He examined the bundle and rushed out. He thanked Bell, left and headed off for the Fine Arts building. There, Scott, the night guard let him in.
Sherlock stalked off to the classrooms. He entered two classrooms before pausing. In this particular classroom, where a particular smell was present, he walked up to the desk of one of the students glanced over the shelves and was gone.
The next morning, Sherlock walked by the Headmasters office on the way to the commons and heard a peculiar snatch of conversation: "It was his fault anyway. If he hadn't been such an ass and just pissed off, I would've left him well enough alone." said a male voice. "Well, if you'd just get off my case then we'd all be done with it. Just admit you're afraid I'll steal your spot just like your.." The bell rang and out rushed a flurry of students. Two students rushed out of the office in an instant obviously repulsed by each other. Sherlock went on his way to the commons to gather the information he'd asked for from his maintenance network. Greene, who was in charge of cleaning the boys shower and locker rooms in the day, handed him a slip of paper.
The time had come for Sherlock to reveal who had pulled the pool prank. Sherlock was sitting at his usual table when Ward and his gang approached holding both and audio recorder and two duffel bags which Sherlock had assumed was all the nicked stuff. Ward had, in tow, the head student Prefect, Jerry Hill. The hall was silenced and once again all eyes were upon them. "So, freak, you know who did it then? We had a bet didn't we? I got all the stuff right here, and I brought Jerry along just to be sure everything checks out." Ward announced. At this Sherlock continued to read for a moment and then proceeded to unravel the mystery.
"Two days ago, at quarter to five, head coach Harold Jennings, walked in to the pool area to see the pool dyed blood red and a dummy tied to a buoy and a tarp reading "Watch out H.J." floating in it. No one knows who did it, no one knows how, and no one knows why. These are the facts. The pool was in fact closed the night before up to the hours leading to its discovery in the morning. The door leading to the swim team varsity's dormitories was open. The pool was dyed red using a red water soluble dye commonly used in painting. This particular blend however was altered in shade thus unique. The dummy tied to the buoy came from a first aid class which is only required to be taken by members of the swim team. The tarp is standard for the student artist. Now, all of these together plus the fact that head coach Harold Jennings Senior, is dropping members of the swim team has lead me to this conclusion: our culprit, who sits in this very room is Wes Cooper. Now, Cooper here is a swim team varsity member on scholarship. He stands to be the best swimmer on the team despite his humble origins. He is the son of the former head Janitor who he used to accompany here as a child thus ergo his familiarity with the pool area, access to all locked doors through old keys and knowledge of the pool filtration system. He and a fellow member of the swim team, Harold Jennings Junior, had a recent row regarding the one thing that links Mr. Cooper to this incident. Miss Gloria Dells, a student at the Fine Arts department, Harold Junior's former girlfriend and Mr. Cooper's current. The dye used to colour the pool is found in the shelves of her classroom, and a piece of her tarps is missing matching in size and identical in material. A day prior to the incident, Mr. Cooper and Harold Junior were having a spat in the locker room. At said spat, Harold Junior found out that Mr. Cooper and Ms. Dells are together which drove him to pursue the removal of Mr. Cooper from the swim team through his father Harold Senior thus the warning: "Watch out H.J." Intended for Harold Junior over here. It would only be too easy for Mr. Cooper to sneak in to the adjacent pool area, spill the dye into the pool filtration system, paint the tarp which he also procured from Miss Dells use the dummy in the next classroom, grab a buoy from the closet and place the bunch in the pool. If you look under Cooper's fingernails you will find traces of the dye."
At this, Sherlock pulled out a picture containing Miss Dells wearing a Uni swim team jacket which contained the initials "H.J." and a separate picture of Mr. Wes Cooper and Miss Dells together. He also procured a small jar of what looked like blood but what he stated was an identical mixture to that of the pool water which he mixed using Miss Dell's dye.
Ward, was stunned and gaped, "How, in the hell did you do that?" Ward did not expect to be beaten at a game which he set and wasn't taking it so lightly. Mirroring the astonished looks of everyone in the room including Cooper and Harold themselves, Jerry the prefect who'd just finished calling the headmaster, said "The staff's just been about to see if what you'd been saying is true. It all checks out. The dye, the tarp, even head coach Jennings admitted that Harold was pushing to give the boot to Wes."
"I believe we had a deal," Sherlock says to Ward. "Deal's a deal." Ward replies rather unsettled and he motions limply to his gang to place both of the quite large bags at the front for everyone to look through. Ward and his gang stalk out of the hall. Jerry escorts Wes and Harold to the Headmaster's office. Everyone else rushes to the bags. Sherlock stands up, and walks triumphantly in the direction of the labs for a well-deserved and long overdue, all night-long experiment.
Please review! This is my first published story involving characters not of my own making. Any critique which you have to offer is very welcome. Please and thank you!
