I looked out the window. The sky was tar-black in the late of night; large clouds were moving towards me. I heard a tapping on the window and then it became a pitter-patter. People ran for cover outside and umbrellas were opened as the clouds spat out their beads of water. Puddles began plinking as the rainfall became heavier. The roofs of the cars danced with spray and I could hear the murmuring of the rain through the window. It sounded like the buzzing of angry bees. Finally I had made it to 221b Baker Street.
Taking my first steps out of the taxi cab, I rush to the canopy of Speedy's Café, taking shelter of the horrid rain that poured from above. I brush off some of the droplets on my dark green coat, attempting to make myself look presentable. I take a deep breath and give a few knocks on the door that read '221b' on it. In only seconds, it opened to an older lady who was dressed in a lovely red gown. "Are you here for Mr. Holmes?" She asked with curiosity in her tone.
"Yes ma'am. I apologize for the late hour. I'm not sure why he scheduled a night appointment." I reply as I enter the flat, taking my coat off and placing it on a rack by the door.
"He's right up there. But I'll warn you, he's been acting a bit strange lately dear," The lady started. "I'm Martha Louise Hudson by the way, but you may call me Mrs. Hudson."
"It's very nice to meet you. My name is Davis, Isabell Davis." I kindly smile and shake Mrs. Hudson's hand.
"You as well love, Mr. Holmes is up the stairs, just knock on the door." She said as she entered her room on the first floor.
I make my way to the second level and approach his flat door. I feel my nerves getting the worst of me. I try to shake them away and finally attempt to let him acknowledge my presence. 'Here we go' Three simple knocks and the door creeps open. There Sherlock himself stood wearing a white shirt and darkened robe before my eyes. "Ah! Miss Davis. Come right in and take a seat."
Walking into his flat, I get a quick glimpse of the main room and find a place to sit down in the middle of the small area. It was a complete mess. Papers scattered across the floor, a graffitied smilie face on the wall behind me with holes, and junk laying about. I couldn't even see how he lived a day in the type of matter, with this uncalled for rubbish! 1...2...3...I mentally calmed myself down before my thoughts became verbal. I knew I liked a tidy space, but needed to remember what I am here for; my issue and not this man's messy habits.
"So, Isabell Davis, tell me, what is your problem?" He asked of what seemed like little interest as he pulled his cellular device out. All to be heard were rain droplets tapping on the nearby window, until I opened my mouth and started to explain.