It was a Sunday afternoon at 221B and I was shuffling about the kitchen trying to find something to eat. I had just dropped by for a visit as I had not seen Sherlock in some time. The double shifts at kept us apart for long stretches of time. To my dismay he was not in. His coat was gone along with his scarf from the coat hook. I assumed he found an important case he was attached to. I myself had until a few nights ago been preoccupied with wedding plans. Sherlock would have no part of it despite it being his own wedding. he felt it dull and conventional. That might have been why I didn't mind doing it and why I loved him so much, he shook off the hum drum commonplace procedures in favor of the fantastic. Our wedding was still a few months away thankfully but it would have been nice to have seen him after all the time away.
As I thought about our life together I felt my stomach growl. I started again to look for food and amidst my efforts I came across several science experiments I was almost scared to ask what the testing was for. Not the least of which was a rather grotesque liver which smelled heavily of antifreeze and motor oil.
After digging past thumbs and severed heads in the cupboard, the only thing left was a box of cherry poptarts. Desperate for something to eat I threw them in the toaster. As I waited for them to finish. I turned around to find an open letter on the island of the kitchen
"I'm off to Doncaster again with the lovely man who runs the bakery next door, don't forget to stock up on some munchies while I'm away, I don't want to find my kitchens been ransacked by one of your homeless friends again because you were too busy to buy a loaf of bread. When I got back I found 3 of them sleeping in my bed and I'd hate to think what they did while they were in it. Better still get John to do it, he is going to be your husband soon after all!
Your landlady (not housekeeper!)
I snickered at the letter. "What would he do without you ." I thought. just then my poptarts were done and as I had sat down to enjoy them, I heard a rumble of footsteps getting close to the door.
It was Sherlock and he smelt like a mixture of foul odors I wouldn't care to place. He rushed right past me without a word. I noticed His coat had been torn and his scarf was frayed, which upset me most since I bought him that scarf for Christmas
"What happened to you?" I asked, concernedly
"Oh John! I didn't see you there. Well I was wondering how dogs other than the dying blood hound species reacted to the smell of pheromones from various creatures aside from their own. I was curious if they could be of use in certain situations where heightened smell would be required, perhaps testing it on Rottweilers was not one of my smarter ideas but I have learned that a mixture of human female and parrot makes for a rather excitable combination"
"Well then, I guess if there is ever a murderous pirate wench with a pet parakeet we know who to go to."
I heard Sherlock chuckle in the loo
"John I may need your assistance" he called.
I walked into the loo as Sherlock was undressing. With his back turned he reached out his coat and said "You've stitched up patients before, I'm sure this will be no trouble."
I took the coat and picked up the unraveling scarf from the floor "Sorry about the scarf John, though it was rather difficult to pry it out of Matilda s jaws"
"Matilda? The name of the dog that attacked you?"
"No, the lady who owned the dog, very nasty woman, obviously had father issues growing up and a hint of sexual confusion hence the chewing"
On that note I took the coat and let my partner shower in peace. When he returned he slumped down on the couch in a ball and asked in a very unenthusiastic tone "so how goes our wedding"
"Well I picked out the table cloths and what food to serve. Which reminds me, why didn't you get any food while you were out? I had to fish through heads and stale crackers to find anything edible"
"I've been busy, haven't eaten anything , slows me down."
I sighed, got up gave him a kiss and said "I'll pop off to the shop then and get us something to eat"
I walked down the stairs and as I opened it 3 men, well I say men they looked more like boys who has just had their first growth spurt, were standing at the door. one was covered in spots, was rather thick around the middle and had bleach blonde hair, the other 2 were a bit slimmer and one was quite a bit taller than the other. the taller of the two had bright orange hair and the shorter had slicked black hair, and all three of them looked like they hadn't seen daylight in months. The blonde one spoke.
"Are you Sherlock Holmes?"
"Uh no he is upstairs, right this way" I showed them up to the flat and figured the shopping could wait
The 3 boys sat on the couch shaking harder than a leaf on a blustery autum and recounted their tale for Sherlock and I.
"Well you see we have a website called 'the truth about comics' and in them we discuss the true meanings of comics." "sorta like an English teacher shows you the meanings behind Shakespeare" said the ginger haired boy.
Sherlock interrupted, "Mmm yes, very interesting, now why are you here?" He said looking quiet bored of the situation
"Well you see then the comic books we talk about all start coming true."
Sherlock sat up in a crouched position with his hands up to his mouth
"Most intriguing, go on."
"Just this past week we have had a batman destroy a local joke shop in a quest to find a clown who was said to be in disguise selling laughing gas dolls to kids. Then we had a Spider-man beating up a doctor who he claimed to have been building an army of robotic "spider slayers" sent out to kill him. Anyways the most recent one happened to be the strangest one yet, it appeared as though he took concepts from various hero's and stories to become his own sort of superhero vigilante and he began killing people."
"Why haven't the police looked into it?" I said
"We talked to inspector Lestrade but he laughed and said 'sorry not our division. Maybe you should get Sherlock Holmes." And he laughed us out of the station"
"Well I'm glad to see you have come, Lestrade is far from what I'd call insightful when it comes to matters such as these. Even John has more wits about him."
I gave him a look and refocused the conversation back on the case "so this person has started killing people instead of saving them, How did you find out? And what did you write about that may have caused this?"
"Well we heard about the first 2 incidents on Twitter from some guys who are fans of our blog, we thought they were just pulling a prank so we as a joke posted "5 life altering deaths in Comics" just to prove them wrong about the whole thing."
Sherlock looked at the 3 of them. "I see. And now you have a dead person based off of this post now correct? Well this is very interesting, could you show me to where the first body is?"
"And could I get the list off of you?" I added.
"Certainly." one of the boys reached into his pocket and pulled out the article from the blog. The list was as follows
5. The Joker, eye stabbed and neck broken by Batman – The Dark Knight Returns
4. The Comedian tossed out a window - Watchmen
3. Uncle Ben Shot by robber, who peter could have stopped earlier- Spider-man
2. Bruce's Mother and Father Shot by Joker after a showing of The Mask of Zorro - Batman
1. Gwen Stacy: after being thrown by the green gobin and caught by spiderman's web the sudden stop broke her neck- Spider-man
"so then the man who simply stopped the clown has now killed him I presume and that is the first body?"
"uh yes w-" they were cut off by Sherlock who was headed for the door
"No time to lose John! The game is on!" he ran down the stairs with a flurry of heavy stomps and straight out the front door and hailed a taxi. I thanked the boys for bringing it to our attention and ran after Sherlock
"Now John why do you suppose the killer did these things? What motive could he have?"
"maybe it was someone's attempt to drum up business for the blog? Get people to research it and find the website, I'm sure the extra hits would do them some good"
"You are getting rather good at this John, my thoughts exactly. The real question is why do it this way?"
We arrived at the joke shop and found the body sitting slumped over in a chair behind the front counter, surrounded by joker cards. His hair was dyed green, face painted white with red lipstick and with what appeared to be a bat shaped piece of metal shoved in his eye socket. His neck had been broken and a clamp of some kind was used to leave his mouth in a smile. On his back we found a comic book page that mirrored the one in front of us.
"looks like he has been here for quite some time, possibly 3 days maybe a bit longer."
Sherlock examined the area carefully, opening drawers, moving the owner around, sniffing the air all the while muttering to himself. When he had finished he explained
"Why it seems as though the killer has left us a many number of clues to who he is." without me even having to ask, as it had became old hat at this point he continued.
"the way he applied the lipstick suggests he is left handed, noted by the high concentration on the right side of the lips to the slightly less concentrated area on the left. The cards on the floor are from a brand sold exclusively to this joke shop."
How did you-"
"it was advertised by that flier in the trash bin"
I looked at the bin
"The One and Only Maestro's Magical Monsters Collector Cards! Sold Exclusively at Joker's World"
"and as there appears to be none on the shelf and a shipping manifest from just 4 days ago on the desk listing a box of 30 decks to a Mr. George Taylor. I think it is safe to assume that the man must have known about the cards and knew it would add the finishing touch to his murder. A joker, an obvious choice of course." Sherlock looked in the trash bin again beside the counter "Mmm yes, perhaps the most intriguing detail is that of the comic book page on his back. It seems as though that too came from this joke shop."
"How's that?" I asked
"If you look at the page closely you will see a slight bend at the top AND bottom corner of the pages, right handed people most often grab from the top when turning pages, left handed from the bottom and if you look at this copy in the trash bin all the rest of the pages were grabbed from the top"
"Well that could just mean he bought it used."
"Ah yes John but see that the top corner is more heavily moistened than a typical book, and if you look at the owners hand you will see just how dry they are except for his right index finger which he regularly licks, further on the back there are small initials, GT in the bottom corner"
"George Taylor" I said slowly "so that means the killer knew he had the book before hand or gave it to him to read before he killed him. So the two had met previously."
"yes John and it appears as though a page of receipts has had been ripped out of his books to hide his identity."
"could we possibly shade it over with a pencil or something to see the imprint of the receipt"
"did I not point out his hands? The man has semi arthritic hands, the words are barely legible and he didn't press hard enough to leave an impression. We have got ourselves a really tricky one on our hands John, I suppose this one will go down as the Comic Killer?"
"I was thinking Pulp Fact-ion?"
Sherlock turned his coat collar up and left. I followed after him but was nudged by some kid in a hoodie
"Oy watch it!" he said
"right, sorry, good day!"
rather strange looking fellow, had an eye patch and neck brace on too, felt sorry for the guy. I noticed something on the ground just as he turned the corner. It was a book with a bright yellow cover and half of a smiley face and a blood stain on it. I picked it up and down the side it said "WATCHMEN" I checked my pockets for the list "yes! That's the second murder!" I thought. I looked up and the man was gone. Not realizing how long I had been standing there Sherlock was also long gone, I chased him down the street and showed him the book
"Look some kid dropped this. By the time I realized it was part of our investigation he disappeared."
Sherlock thumbed through the pages he only got a few pages in when he said "John, look, there are torn pages!"
Sherlock rushed to the nearest book store and grabbed a copy
"Yes John, you see? He tore out the pages of the comedians murder. He must have been lurking near by or found out about us some how. He is on to us, now he knows he has an audience and the show is about to begin." the tone of excitement was almost alarming to me, if only he had this much enthusiasm towards buying food to keep him alive, someone might think he resembles somewhat of a normal person.
We returned to the flat and Sherlock said "get dressed up!"
"Why?"
He was typing frantically on his phone, "we are going out on the town!"
"Whats the rush? We have a case to solve! And whats wrong with what I'm wearing?"
Sherlock gave me a dirty look which made me self conscious. "Stop deducing me with your eyes!"
"I thought you liked that."
"not when you evil eye my favorite jumper!"
Sherlock sighed and shoved his phone in front of my face, I read it aloud "'Sky High Comedy Club: Great Laughs, Great Food, and a Bird's Eye View.' you think he is going to throw someone out the window there?"
"Precisely, now get dressed, I'm taking you out on a date!"
We arrived at the comedy club which it's entrance was situated in a rather dark alley just after 6pm. I clutched Sherlock's arm as we walked into the building. We bought our tickets and took the elevator up to the main ballroom and took a seat towards the front. It was a circular room with glass from floor to ceiling and a 360 degree view of Central London. The tables were covered in black cloth with purple chairs, red candles and a deep plush red carpet. The stage had a single spot light with a microphone stand with the gorgeous backdrop of night time London, with the lights shining like stars.
a man walked up to the microphone.
"our first comedian is brand new to this club and I'm sure he will deliver plenty of laughs, give it up for, Ed Blake!"
a man came out from behind the curtain and bowed to the audience. Sherlock perked up and whispered to me
"he is wearing a bath robe and what appears to be a smiley face button, THIS is our killer! Look!" he pulled out the pages from the comedians death
"Where did you get those?"
"i tore them out when no one was looking but that's beside the point! Also you will see he is holding the microphone with his left hand. I never thought it would be him that was the comedian, lets wait I want to see what he is playing at."
every second felt like hours, I started to get antsy, I tired to take my mind off the situation
"I don't want any blood on this dress shirt Sherlock, so help me, its the only one I've got left after you ruined my other ones trying to do the laundry, how many times do I have to say, colors and whites wash separate"
"I don't understand why you are complaining, pink looks good on you."
"Shut up Sherlock!"
some one shushed us and we both simmered down. Ed Blake was standing there twirling and playing with the microphone cord and said
"You know whats worse than being married? Its pretending to be happy after you are married." the room laughed and he said
"You and John will see what that is like soon, eh Sherlock?"
as soon as those words left his mouth Sherlock burst out of his chair and ran up on stage and grabbed Ed Blake by his bathrobe
"Who are you? Why are you doing this?"
"I know all about you Sherlock, thanks to your little boyfriend over there. Hi John!" he waved at me with the most deranged grin
"he blogged about your little engagement, when's the wedding?"
"answer my question, why did you do this, why did George Taylor have to die?"
"Don't you see? Its a joke! Comic Books, the funny papers, you,it's all a big joke. Entertainment, it's what makes days less of a bore. I'm like you Sherlock, I get bored and when I get bored I like to play games. I knew that my stunt would catch your attention sooner or later, those geeks and their blog force feeding the notion that comic books are real literature. I thought I'd show them something more real. "
"All this over some kids blog?"
"Not just any blog! The one founded by my three best friends. Those dorks would have never gotten into comics if it wasn't for me. Ever since I was in high school all the kids would hang out with each other and have relationships and make out and because I was just a nerdy kid who liked superheroes I was cast off into the shadows. I went into that bozo George Taylor's shop when it was a comic book store and just sunk my teeth into every page of the pulp masterpiece that is comic books. I wanted to show people just how dramatic and amazing comics can be but no one would listen and those so called comic loving nerds blogging about it and that damn joke shop owner always going on about how insightful the blog was and how clever they were. I will give them credit, it became insightful to me when the blogged about how they had come to you about the case. I knew the second you found out you would rush to the joke shop, so i circled around waiting for my moment."
"thats why you bumped into John and gave us the book, you wanted us here."
He continued "They took the one thing that kept me sane during my high school years and bastardized it, my own friends! Those 3 think they are better than me because they decided to blog about comics. They're wrong, but you know what? It's ok."
He leaned into Sherlock's his hand on his chest and said in his ear "because now all they are going to blog about, is you."
I stood there frozen as he patted Sherlock on the back. There were 2 comic book pages attached to his back and has he stepped back I saw the reflection of a yellow pin on his coat. I ran for Sherlock but Ed picked him up and tossed him out the window through the glass.
Blake looking down with the microphone still in his hand began to whip it around and threw it down towards Sherlock. I pushed Blake out of the way, he knocked his head on a table and lied there unconscious. I rushed to the window looked down into the darkness. I screamed "SHERLOCK!" but no reply. I almost felt out the window looking for him but it was so dark it was impossible to see anything.
Frantically I reached for my pen light I used on patients. Then a voice said "I'M ALRIGHT, JOHN!" I flashed it on Sherlock's body, the microphone was lassoed around his ankle, I stumbled around for the cord
"somebody help me! please!"
I grabbed hold of the cord and pulled him up with the help of some of the guests from the club.
When we got him safely back to the top of the building I held him tighter than I had ever held another human being.
"You reckless man!" I said beating my fist against his chest.
Sherlock removed the pages from his back, it was the death of the comedian and the death of Gwen Stacy.
"i guess he thought the sudden jerk would have broken my neck, two deaths for the price of one. There is only one problem with his plan"
"whats that?"
"I have a penis."
I laughed half heartedly
"Why did you do that? can't you be normal!" I said burying my face in his coat.
"It's simple" he said "I knew I wasn't going to die."
with my face still firmly into his coat I muffled, "And why's that?"
"Because I have a wedding to go to."
I looked at him through my tears,"You really are something else Sherlock Holmes. I love you."
He gave me a smile, "I love you too, John. Oh and John?"
"Mm?"
"since, as you say, I am not normal, why don't we have are honeymoon right now?" I wiped my eyes and grabbed his hand, "I'd like that."
We sat back down at our table, in amongst the chaos of flipped tables and broken glass. We ordered wine and admired the glorious view that was central London.