Chapter 1 - The Client
"Sherlock it's bloody midnight what the hell are you doing!" John called from his bedroom, over the sound of an incessant banging from downstairs. John jolted out of bed and dashed over to his door, slinging his dressing gown on as he did so. He pulled the door open, revealing Sherlock stood in his doorway directly in front of him.
"I thought that was you?" Sherlock noted questioningly. John was taken aback.
"Yes, Sherlock. I was the one banging on our bloody door in the middle of the night!" John shouted sarcastically, pushing Sherlock out of the way and running downstairs. "Keep your bloody hat on!" John bellowed.
"Every time." Sherlock muttered under his breath, yawning as he made his way into the front room. He took a seat on his chair and reached over to a tepid mug of tea which he'd left out overnight. Trying to keep his eyes open, he took a couple of tentative sips to wake himself up. After a couple of moments, he heard two sets of footsteps coming up the stairs.
"Couldn't this have waited until morning?" Sherlock heard John ask from the other room. Suddenly, the door burst open and John walked into the front room accompanied by a young woman who was evidently distressed.
"Take a seat." Sherlock sighed, gesturing over to the empty chair in the middle of the room. John glanced over at Sherlock with a look of exasperation, but Sherlock just rolled his eyes and shook his head. Not now.
"I..I'm sorry for coming so late..but-but I couldn't wait," the young woman trembled, her fingers shaking against the chair's arm.
"Missing boyfriend?" Sherlock asked, causing a prolonged moment of silence throughout the room.
"How..how did you...?" she asked, not quite able to get her words out.
"It's textbook," Sherlock chuckled. He moved closer to the woman and examined her closely. John rolled his eyes as the woman looked at him for some sort of answer.
"Just let him do it." John sighed, as Sherlock sat back down in his seat. "So, why didn't you go to the police?" he asked.
"Affair." Sherlock answered. "She was having an affair, it's an unstable alibi."
"How the hell could you possibly know that?!" the woman asked, standing up from her seat and taking a couple of steps back.
"Your wedding ring." Sherlock smiled falsely, "There's no ring on your finger but a definite imprint of where one has been. It's been recently removed and you left it at your lovers house following his sudden disappearance."
"You..you're amazing." the woman laughed nervously. "Yeah, you're right."
"I know," Sherlock smiled, "tell us everything."
"Damien and I were...talking..when I got a phone call from my mum. I answered the call and we chatted for a bit, when I heard Damien scream from somewhere in the garden. I went to find him, but he was nowhere to be seen. I searched for hours, and there's nowhere he could've gone," the woman explained, a few years forming in her eyes.
"Boring!" Sherlock exclaimed, shooting up from his chair and walking over to the kitchen. The woman was taken aback at first, but then looked to John for some sort of comfort.
"Give me a minute." John sighed, also standing up and going over to the kitchen to talk to Sherlock. He placed a hand on his shoulder and spun him around. "Take the bloody case."
"Why?" Sherlock asked, utterly confused. "It's boring!" he exclaimed.
"Have you seen that woman? She's shaking in her bloody seat!" John scoffed. Sherlock looked over at the woman, who was indeed shaking in her seat.
"Fine. I can spare a couple of hours." Sherlock sighed, making his way back over to the front room. He looked at the woman and smiled. "I'll take the case."