As I look back on the many cases that my dear friend Sherlock Holmes and I have undertaken I cannot help but smile at the many strange, extraordinary and potentially fatal predicaments we found ourselves in one way or another. I remember all the escapades that we encountered throughout the years as if they happened yesterday and cannot help but smile fondly at the adventures I had when I was a younger man. One case in particular reminds me of the bizarre cases that together, Holmes and I solved.
The luminescent orange sunrise filtered through the net curtains, bathing Sherlock's office and laboratory in a dazzling golden light. As I marvelled at the beautiful spectacle I noticed Holmes sprawled on the sofa, completely oblivious to the exquisite scene that surrounded him. I assumed he was asleep but I couldn't be certain of that fact due to the dishevelled, tattered bowler hat he wore covered his eyes, leaving only his mouth and chin visible. A sly smile played upon his lips and his chin was sparsely dotted with unshaven bristles. I threw the curtains open and was startled by the bright sunlight that made my eyes water, forcing me to look away.
"Good morning Holmes." I greeted in a chipper voice. Sherlock didn't even seem to acknowledge that I had spoken.
I coughed loudly to attempt to wake him but somehow he still didn't stir.
"Holmes?" I asked cautiously as I approached him to nudge him awake. I shook him gently so I was certain he was conscious. Sherlock was never a deep sleeper. I sat down beside him before laying a hand on his shoulder to convey my concern for my often reclusive companion.
"Sherlock you have to get out of this house." I ordered him sternly. He didn't reply but I continued despite his disinterest, "This hermitic behaviour cannot continue. You must get a new case. Can't you see you're getting ill being cooped up in here?"
"I see no logical reason for leaving my lodgings today. I have neither the reason, nor the inclination to do so." Sherlock replied stubbornly as he bounded unexpectedly from within the wardrobe behind me.
I leapt to my feet in fright and glanced between Sherlock standing fully dressed having just emerged from the oak wardrobe and the shabbily dressed figure on the sofa. Sherlock noticed my surprise,
"I picked him up from the morgue yesterday," he informed me gesturing casually to the limp body I had mistaken for him only moments before.
"You mean he..." I started before being interrupted by Holmes.
"Yes. He is indeed deceased."
He seemed so calm about it all. I felt my face getting warmer as my anger grew.
"Sherlock! I deserve some kind of explanation as well as an apology!"
"Whatever for? Was he not sufficient company?" Holmes joked.
"Better company than some," I muttered under my breath. Sherlock was my closest friend but sometimes he was so ignorant of the simplest things.
Mrs Hudson knocked quietly on the door.
"Come on in Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock called. I watched as he fell into a nearby armchair and picked up his violin.
"Good morning Dr Watson. Morning Mr Holmes," she greeted smiling cheerfully at us both.
"A good morning it is not I'm afraid Mrs Hudson!" Holmes spat as she placed the tea tray on the coffee table in front of us.
"What in heaven's name could possibly be the matter now?"
"It could be any number of things." I sighed whilst pinching the bridge of my nose exasperatedly.
"Thank you for your concern," Sherlock interjected sarcastically.
"Please Sherlock just tell us what's wrong."
"Everything is too peaceful, too tranquil. Nothing of interest has happened for months!" he moaned.
"Surely there must be a case that you're interested in?"
The pile of letters addressed to him from clients was beside me. I picked them up and quickly flipped through them.
"How about this one? A lady named Mrs Laurence has been the victim of burglary. She claims that her diamond earrings were stolen from her bedside while she was away. Interested?" I inquired hopefully.
"It was her maid," Sherlock informed me as he read the morning newspaper.
"How could you possibly know that?" I demanded sceptically.
"Well if she has diamonds she must be upper class to afford them. The letter was post marked Pinner. As you know many upper class women in the Pinner area are married to a banker due to its proximity to the Bank of England. Bankers often go on holiday to the countryside during the summer months. Whilst in their summer home a light fingered servant of theirs stole the earrings using their key to open the front door. Tell her that the earrings are long gone. Probably sold already.
See? It's simply a matter of connecting the facts together to see the bigger picture."
"Like a jigsaw?" Mrs Hudson questioned curiously.
"A crude comparison, but if it helps you to understand, yes Mrs Hudson like a jigsaw.
Speaking of jigsaws hadn't you be getting back to yours?"
Sherlock waved a hand at the door rudely demanding to be left alone. She did as she was ordered either not noticing or choosing to ignore Sherlock. Mr Hudson, although elderly and fragile looking, was extremely strong willed as any woman would have to be to tolerate Sherlock.
"Maybe this one would interest you more. A vicar by the name of Father James Malloy has had all the stain glass windows in his church smashed."
"No! No! No!" Sherlock disagreed before rising to his feat and beginning to pace the room in agitation. Another muffled knock could be heard from behind the door. Mrs Hudson's head poked round the door.
"You have a visitor Mr Holmes," she informed us.
"Then inform them that we shall be downstairs in a moment," ordered Sherlock. She nodded a little and disappeared.
"Perhaps this is the case that will interest you," I suggested hopefully.
"We shall see," he nodded slowly.
A/N: Please review as I am not sure if I will continue this story. Thanks for reading xx