Chapter 2
By the time they had arrived at the London observatory, the rain had calmed down to a soft drizzle, the clouds slowly moving away and the hope of blue sky visible in the distance. After a silent journey through London and away from the noise and traffic of the centre, they were walking along the stone path up to the circular building where the telescope allowing a view of the stars was surely held. Only two police cars where present, and then a third as DI Lestrade arrived. The surrounding gardens where thick and well-tended despite the winter air and naked trees. As they headed closer to the viewing building, the smaller, squarer building could be seen just behind it, with a short corridor of glass and smooth wood connecting the two. Despite having only two buildings, the recently built site was rather large.
"I'm surprised you haven't turned and run by now," John said as they walked along the cobblestone path, nearing the door to the viewing building and the shape of a police officer coming into view.
"Why would I do that?" Sherlock asked coldly.
"Because just about everything to do with the solar system is here. Last I heard, you hated the solar system," John reminded him. Sherlock opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.
"I knew it!" The police officer exclaimed, pointing directly at Sherlock's face. It was clear now that the police officer was Sally Donovan. "I was sure it was you that night!"
"Save it for later, Donovan." Greg caught up with them and ordered his colleague. Despite the obvious want to shout at Sherlock and question how he still stood breathing, she followed her boss's orders and then began to open the door. John could plainly see the smirk on Sherlock's face.
When they first entered, it was like stepping back into Baskerville. It was a short, narrow white corridor to another door, this one reflective metal with several key and sensory pads at the side. John expected to see Sherlock looking around, already searching for some indication as to what happened to the professor, but he remained focused on the door. Before looking at the keypad to see what buttons they had to press to open the door, there was a low beep and the metal slid to the side on its own.
John struggled to focus on one thing when they stepped through, standing in the gleaming room that was the entire building. White surfaces and several computers, the giant structure of the telescope, a mixture of silver and white, was slightly sunk into the ground on its platform as the normally open roof for the telescope to pierce through was closed with thick glass, ready to split when the rain eventually stopped falling on its surface. Going around the whole of the building was a platform, strips of glass and metal creating the floor while the silver railing stopped anyone from falling. At the other side of the building was a similar metal door, leading out into the connecting outdoor corridor. Naturally, there were several security cameras glaring at specific points in the structure and most likely hiding somewhere throughout the complex and grounds elsewhere.
Another police officer was standing by a desk close to the lowered telescope, where a young man was typing away and looking at various graphs lit up on the computer. The man was Mark Coombs. He appeared rather young, almost around the age of a university student, with short, brown matted hair that hadn't been tended to in the past few days and wide-awake hazel eyes. Despite his young age, he didn't wear the sort of clothes expected of a young man in London, instead wearing rather worn down and dark clothes, his trousers very much oversized and a green coat which had one pocket torn.
"Any ideas so far?" Greg asked quietly as Coombs finished up his graph studying. Sherlock twitched his nose.
"Something tells me it was here, but I can't put my finger on it," he mumbled, sniffing the air again, though not as discreetly as John would have hoped. Finally closing the files, Coombs walked over, holding a wide smile.
"Morning gentleman. I suppose you're here about Professor Antric?" Coombs clarified. John nodded and Greg began giving the usual introductions.
"…And this is Sherlock Holmes and John Watson," he finished. Coombs, as expected from the moment Sherlock returned, held a disbelieving smirk for a while.
"The same Sherlock Holmes's who died, like, three years ago?" he asked. The only response he got was Sherlock rolling his eyes and John blankly nodding. "Nice to have you back in the world of the living." After his laid back response, he looked towards Greg. "So, do you want to ask questions or…?"
"It is the most obvious action to take," Sherlock cut in. "So you're Professor Antric's assistant?"
"Yes, I've been working with him for, oh what is it… about five years I think. It was when the observatory had finished construction and after Antric's previous projects and job at the planetarium. He's a marvellous man to work with and-"
"Moving on, any idea why Antric may have gone or who kidnapped him?" Sherlock asked, uninterested in working relationships and Antric's history. John prevented himself from nudging Sherlock to be less rude.
"Not a clue. He was perfectly fine, getting along with work, periodically going to see his wife. Then he just didn't turn up the next day. I had to leave for a few days so I suspected nothing of it." There was a silence and Coombs coughed. "When I came back and found the place untouched I realised that he was missing. That's when I called the police and reported him gone."
"It didn't occur to you to check the security cameras or call him?" asked John. Coombs raised his eyebrows, seeming to expect the question.
"I haven't had time to go through the all the footage. As for ringing him, I called him the day he didn't turn up and every day after. At first he was just out signal, but then I began realising it had to be out of battery by now. It's been nearly a week. Professor Antric isn't like your other old folk; he is pretty up-to-date with technology and knows how to work a phone."
"That will be all, Mr Coombs," Sherlock announced and turned his back to walk away. As John turned to follow after smiling, Greg thanked Coombs for talking and joined them. Sherlock was finally looking around, appearing interested and John glad they might actually get some work done.
"Anything yet?" Greg asked quietly. Sherlock once again sniffed the air.
"Have you got people looking through the footage?" he asked.
"Yeah, I sent them over as soon as I got the call. They can get through it quicker than one guy alone. But have you got any ideas on where Antric is? Anyone who might have kidnapped or killed him?"
"If you're suspecting Coombs you're probably barking up the wrong tree. He's not dangerous, it's obvious. A man of his age would hardly have anything out for Antric, and he seems far too occupied with his dream job."
"Not even going to ask for the details on that. Have you got a single thing that could lead to anything?"
"I don't want to make any assumptions until I know the footage has been completely checked through."
"Sherlock," Greg moaned, much like a parent at a disobeying child. "What assumptions?"
"Something… something isn't right. Antric isn't dead, no bodies have been found lately. So he's kidnapped, but where is the ransom notes or the hostage videos!? Why has there been no threat. Kidnaps happen for a reason and it is either to get an answer from the victim or someone who knows the victim."
"So we should expect a message of some kind?" John asked. Sherlock looked about.
"Maybe they already left one, maybe someone isn't telling us something. Maybe the kidnappers have no intention of making contact at all, meaning the more difficult task of locating him. Antric is alive, but he might not remain alive if there is no video to help find him. Any tyre tracks or footprints outside will have been destroyed outside by now... What is that blasted scent?" Sherlock mumbled at the end of his thoughts.
"Sir, we have it!" The three of them looked over as two middle-aged officers walked over from the opposite door, heading to the computer Coombs was at. He logged on to the security camera database for them and the IT officers searched for what they had found in the files. It was a file just over a week ago, 24 hour footage throughout the day.
Sherlock, Greg and John joined the crowd around the computer as one of the officers skipped to the section of the recording, marked to be recorded at around 1am.
"We nearly missed it. Whoever these people were, they were smart. Somehow they got into the systems and froze the cameras. But not quite enough, occasionally the cameras would flicker to present time. And that's how we found this." As the officer finished explaining, something flashed across the screen. Everyone squinted at the screen, the camera image still the same, showing the corridor the three had just entered through.
"What was that?" Greg asked.
"Hold on, I need to slow it down. The fault in the virus they installed is barely a second long. Sheer luck we got hold of this." The IT officer at the computer lowered the frame rate into the hundreds and then a thousand before replaying the clip. That's when the sight was clear.
Two men, wearing black and their faces masked were clear in the white surroundings of the corridor. Their identities were completely hidden, but the person they were dragging out the observatory was a little more distinguishable. A white lab coat, dark trousers and face covered with a bag had to be Antric, unconscious and of course being kidnapped.
"So that's what it is," Sherlock exclaimed. Everyone looked round at him in surprise. Sherlock stood straight. "It fits the situation perfectly! The place reeks of it, surely you can smell it too?!"
"It smells of disinfectant and fresh air in here to me," John answered, Greg and a the officers agreeing. Coombs gave no opinion, quickly saying he had a bad sense of smell.
"The disinfectant must be covering the smell, but even then the chances of you knowing what it smells like are limited," Sherlock said, looking around with a bit more joy.
"What is it, Sherlock!?" Greg exclaimed impatiently.
"Chloroform!"