CHAPTER TEN- THE SOLUTION
In which John and Sherlock observe the bodies of the victims, and John and Sherlock both find a solution.
Sherlock leaned over the body of a large man, peering at the gaping hole on one side of his head and then observing his one ear very closely.
John looked at the bluish bodies of the two victims, one a very pretty woman and the other a large, sunburnt man, even after the oxygen deprived tint of his skin.
"How were they found again?" John asked.
Molly looked up from the woman she was tending to. "Some poor fisherman spotted a boat sunk in the lake. Him and some other men pulled it out and these two were tied to it."
"Oh."
Sherlock sighed. It looks like... hit in the head with a blunt object, probably a club, then purposefully sunk in the lake to hide evidence. The ears were intentionally cut off, though, which means we've found our ear victims." He said. "Mary," he said, pointing out the woman.
"Our client's sister?" John asked.
"The very one." Sherlock replied. "And him..." he said, gesturing to the man, "we'll find out who he is eventually."
John studied Sherlock, who was being very silent. "So...what do we do now?"
"I need to think. Let's go home."
...
John didn't think that Sherlock was thinking about the case at all. He was staring blankly at the fire, one leg crossed over the other, fiddling with the strings of his violin.
"Are you okay, Sherlock?" John asked.
Sherlock started, as if he had just remembered John was there. "John?"
"Yes?"
"Was the prospect of kissing me so horrible?" John's jaw dropped. "Do I repel you that much?"
"No, I just,- its just," John stumbled over his words. He felt his throat closing up. "I thought we were over this?"
Sherlock didn't reply. Then suddenly he was out of his chair with his lips pressed to John's. John froze. Sherlock pulled away, studied John's face, and then sighed. "That's what I thought."
John watched Sherlock walk into his room and then slammed his head against the back of his chair.
...
Sherlock rose the next morning with a purpose. He was gulping down a cup of scalding hot tea and pulling on his coat before John had even come out of his room. He paced, agitated, around the sitting room while John slid on his shoes. When they finally got out of the house, it was 8:47 am and Mrs. Hudson was stumbling up the stairs in her pink flowered house coat.
Sherlock watched John as he refused to look at Sherlock, staring intently at the scenery he'd seen a thousand times. Sherlock could tell he didn't recognise the address Sherlock had given the cabbie- but even if he did recognise it he was giving too much attention to the gloomy streets of London to care.
They pulled up in front of a house much like the one they had been to the previous day, in fact not even two streets away. However, when the door was opened it was not a small girl, but a man in a long coat with his hair gelled back.
Sherlock had put on his bumbling idiot face without realizing it, and came up with a script off the top of his head.
"Hello," he said, making his voice shake.
"I'm a friend of Mary and Sarah," he purposely choked on Mary. "I just wanted to see how Sarah is doing?"
The man looked at Sherlock with an annoyed look on his face. "Ms. Crushing has severe brain damage. She wont be seeing anyone but family." He then pushed past Sherlock to a black Mustang parked in front of the house.
Sherlock watched the man go with a smirk. He pulled out his phone and foaled Lestrade. "I've got him. Jim Browner. Go arrest him, you're good at it."
...
The ride home was just as silent as the ride there, as was the walk inside the flat. Sherlock was walking inside the kitchen to get something to eat, his chest swelling the way it always did after he solved a case. He pushed aside a bag of fingers and pulled out an apple, biting into it as he turned away from the fridge. John was standing behind him, his right hand resting on the table.
"The prospect wasn't horrible," John said in a whisper. "I just never thought there was one."
He then walked past Sherlock and into his room.