Short Note: So terribly sorry for such a late update and such a short one at that! School is starting and I have music theory which is a spawn of satan himself. The next chapter will be the good stuff (hopefully) so without further ado please enjoy!
"I was pondering about all this when Mycroft budged into my room." Sherlock emphasized the word "budge" showing his clear disdain for Mycroft. "He was calling me down for dinner and so I asked him if he knew anything about the history of Sherrinford. He threw this book at me and just like that I've affirmed my theory."
Sherlock took out a thick book with yellowing pages which had just recently had a thick layer of dust brushed off carelessly with the sleeve of a shirt.
John raised an eyebrow, even is sleepiness couldn't stop his curiosity. "And this is…?"
"A record of my ancestors. Apparently, someone in my family had once been knighted in the late 1800's and he started this book. I would call this meaningless as it will undoubtedly be lost in the near future but it did provide me with much help." Sherlock said as he opened the book to where a bookmark was.
"Sherrinford Holmes. 1902-1968. Right, and what does your ancestor have to do with the disappearance of Moran and Bluebell?" John asked.
"Sherrinford was an unsuccessful veterinary. He opened up a business when he was thirty but it seems that after three years he decided to build a school on top of his business. Thus, he became the headmaster and founder of Sherrinford Secondary. Now referring back to the little "poem" Moran wrote us. It referred to inside Sherrinford but I've checked everywhere and still no trace of him. The only possible solution would be that he is beneath the school and this book gave me the final evidence that I needed." Sherlock said as he snapped the book shut looking very pleased with himself.
"So you're saying that they're right below Sherrinford. In an ancient pet clinic. Do you realize how ridiculous you sound?" John whispered furiously.
"Well, if you have any complaints you can email him." Sherlock tossed John his phone which displayed three emails.
So glad you're in the game, oh the fun we're going to have!
Good progress is being made but the clock is ticking Sherlock,
Tick tock
Tick tock
J.M.
Moran and Bluebell are in Sherrinford.
The game is up.
S.H.
Tomorrow at 18:00 in Sherrinford.
Come out and play if you want them back.
J.M.
John just groaned quietly.
"You… don't have to come." Sherlock muttered looking almost… hurt.
"Well of course I have to come! I'm not just gonna leave you to walk into this trap by yourself!" John exclaimed before handing the phone back.
"I knew my Watson wouldn't let me down." Sherlock beamed at John who in turn just smiled.
"Sherlock, I have something to tell y…"
John began but was cut off by the light which seeped into the room from under the door.
"I'll see you tomorrow, John." With that Sherlock gave a quick wink and slipped out of the window like a sleek black cat.
"John? What are you doing up so late? Were you talking to someone?" Harry stood at John's door with crossed arms.
"No, it's none of your business Harry." John returned to his bed giving Harry the signal that she should probably leave.
"And why's the window open…?"
"Maybe I fancied a breath of fresh air? For God's sake Harry! Get out!" With that John brought the blanket over his head making himself look like a oversized white cocoon.
"Alright, Juliet."
John didn't know what expression she had on her face when she closed the door but he could just imagine the smug grin plastered across her face as she saw the cocoon flinch in reaction.
John tossed and turned in his bed, just him and his racing heart lying awake. There was only one thing, or one person on his mind right now.
His wink, his smile, his eyes, his scarf… everything.
He wasn't emotionally impaired and knew what all of this meant.
I'm in love…
John thought shaking his head with a helpless grin. He could never tell Sherlock this, all he could do is pray to God that his "high-functioning sociopath" wouldn't be able to notice this petty feeling of his.
Sherlock was not one to be bound by all the emotion and sentiments of this world.
So all he could do was smile wryly to himself as he drifted off to much wanted sleep.
John slipped into the silent school quietly behind Sherlock who was already running down the corridor. The school echoed of Sherlock's footsteps and the thud of the closed door.
"Where are we going?" John asked catching up to Sherlock.
"The roof of course. We'll figure out how Moran was taken underground from the very top." Sherlock replied as they started to climb the stairs.
"Well, he could've just went back the way he came unto the roof if he never actually fell down the roof." John pointed out as they scaled the first flight of stairs.
"But he didn't, I've watched all the surveillance footage of this school none of them shows Moran anywhere but on the roof." Sherlock said. "We have Molly helping us out with the hacking. She would know if someone had altered the footages."
John nodded if this went as it should, Moran and Bluebell should be back safe and sound by the end of tonight.
The sun has almost disappeared from their view but it still left its mark behind onto the skies. It seems that whoever painted the heavens had accidently dropped their pallet onto the canvas because the sky was a brilliant mix of pink, scarlet, purple and gold.
This, of course was only noticed by John because the moment Sherlock had set foot on the roof he started to examine every inch of the roof with his pocket magnifying glass.
He reminded John of his old dog, Gladstone when he would sniff out the rabbits from the bushes. In this case, they were trying to find a rabbit too, along with a human.
"Um, anything I can do to help?" John asked as he surveyed the roof quickly finding nothing out of place.
"It would be nice if you could stay quiet." Sherlock said back as he continued his careful examination of the roof. He was already through a quarter of the roof yet no results have turned up yet.
John rolled his eyes as he decided to take a look behind the doorway from which they came. It wasn't huge with the width of about two and a half meters and the length of three meters.
Sherlock groaned as he was interrupted from his work yet again, but this time by the ring of his phone.
"Sherlock Holmes speaking…"
"Sherlo-!"
John's exclamation made Sherlock stand up and look about in alert. There was someone else here…
"Sherlock! The footage, the footage has been tampered with. You need to get…"
What sounded like a phone being dropped could be heard from Molly's side.
"Sherlock? Sherlock!"
But it was too late.
The hunter has caught his quarries.
