Sherlock has moved to the side table in the kitchen and is looking into his microscope. Ophelia sits next to the table as she was doing her homework while Mrs. Hudson comes in through the kitchen door with a tray containing a couple of mugs. As she puts them on the kitchen table, Sherlock looks up, "Poison."
Mrs. Hudson looks at him with confusion, "What you going on about?"
Sherlock slams his hands down on the side table, "Clostridium botulinum!"
Mrs. Hudson cringes and flees the kitchen. Sherlock looks round at John as he comes in from the living room.
"What's that?" Ophelia asks.
"It's one of the deadliest poisons on the planet!" Sherlock explains to her.
John looks at him blankly, "So?"
"Carl Powers!"
"Oh, wait, are you saying he was murdered?"
Sherlock stands up and walks over to where he has hung up the laces from the trainers, "Remember the shoelaces?"
John nods his head.
"The boy suffered from eczema. It'd be the easiest thing in the world to introduce the poison into his medication. Two hours later he comes up to London, the poison takes effect, paralyses the muscles and he drowns."
"What – how-how come the autopsy didn't pick that up?"
"It's virtually undetectable. Nobody would have been looking for it.
He has walked around the table to where his computer notebook is lying. He now begins to type into the message box:
FOUND. Pair of trainers belonging to Carl Powers (1978-1989).undetectable.
Sherlock straightens up and points at the shoe laces, "But there were still tiny traces of it left inside the trainers from where he put the cream on his feet."
Sherlock bends down and starts to type again:
Botulinum toxin still present. Apply 221b Baker St.
"That's why they had to go," said Sherlock as he straightens himself up.
"So how do we let the bomber know ..."
But Sherlock cuts him off, "Get his attention ... stop the clock."
"The killer kept the shoes all these years."
"Yes. Meaning."
"He's our bomber," said John.
The pink phone rings on the side table. Sherlock hurries over to it and switches it on, "Well done, you. Come and get me."
"Where are you? Tell us where you are," Sherlock said loudly.
John turns around and saw Ophelia looking at them tiredly "Is it over?"
John smiles as he sits next to her, "It's over… for now."
Ophelia rub her eyes as she yawns, "That's good."
John chuckles, "Go to bed, you have school tomorrow."
Ophelia shook her head, "I don't want to go to school."
"Sorry, but you have no choice."
Ophelia groans, "Please!"
"You already miss one day of school, now go to bed."
Ophelia slowly got out of her chair and starts to walk out of the kitchen, "Goodnight daddy."
But Sherlock didn't respond, he held up his phone and starts texting to Lestrade, to tell him where the women located. Ophelia looks at him with a hurtful expression and slowly walks upstairs, not knowing John was following behind her looking at her with pity.
"John, I suggest you go to bed also, Lestrade wants us in the station in the morning," Sherlock suggest as he walks into the living room.
"Why do you treat her so harshly?"
"Sorry?" Sherlock looks at him with confusion.
"Why do you treat her so harshly, what had she done to be treated like that?"
"It's none of your business," Sherlock uttered as he sits on his armchair.
"Actually it is! I don't understand you at all, one day you will be kind to her then the next day you treat her as if she was nothing to you."
"Her eyes," Sherlock whispers.
"What about her eyes?" John looks at him confusion.
"Her eyes bother me."
John raised a brow, "You treat her harshly because you don't like her eyes?"
Sherlock ignores his questions and starts to walk to his room, "Night John."
John stood in the middle of the living room all by himself trying to process everything Sherlock had told him, but none of it made any sense to him... then again he never understood Sherlock.
The boys are in Lestrade's office, Sherlock standing at the window with his hands raised in front of his mouth and his fingers tapping together. John is sitting opposite Lestrade at his desk.
"She lives in Cornwall. Two men broke in wearing masks, forced her to drive to the car park and decked her out in enough explosives to take down a house. Told her to phone you, she had to read out from this pager."
"And if she deviated by one word, the sniper would set her off," Sherlock whispers.
"Or if you hadn't solved the case," John adds.
"Oh. Elegant," Sherlock whispers to himself.
John raises his head and sighs in exasperation, "Elegant?"
"But what was the point? Why would anyone do this?" Lestrade asks.
Sherlock sighs, "Oh, I can't be the only person in the world that gets bored."
Just then the pink phone beeps a message alert. John turns round to him as he activates the phone, "You have one new message."
As Sherlock walks towards Lestrade's desk, the phone sounds the Greenwich pips again, but this time there are three short pips and one long one.
"Four pips," John points out.
"First test passed, it would seem. Here's the second," Sherlock shows a new photograph to the others. It's a close-up of a car with its driver's door open and the number plate clearly visible. John and Lestrade get up to take a closer look.
"It's abandoned, wouldn't you say?"
"I'll see if it's been reported."
Sergeant Donovan comes to the office holding another phone, "Freak it's for you!"
Sherlock walks over to the door and takes the phone from her. John sits down again and Sherlock walks out into the general office and raises the phone to his ear, "Hello?"
The frightened voice of a young man comes over the phone, "It's okay that you've gone to the police."
"Who is this? Is this you again?" Sherlock asks.
"But don't rely on them. Clever you, guessing about Carl Powers. I never liked him. Carl laughed at me, so I stopped him laughing. "
John comes out of the office and walks closer to Sherlock, looking at him in concern.
"And you've stolen another voice, I presume," Sherlock said sharply.
"This is about you and me."
"Who are you? What's that noise?"
"The sounds of life, Sherlock. But don't worry ... I can soon fix that. You solved my last puzzle in nine hours. This time you have eight," the man said tearfully.
Lestrade walks out of the office and yells, "We've found it!"
Sherlock's phone has gone dead. He turns and follows Lestrade.
