Dr. Capt. Julia H. Watson
By Rurple101
CHAPTER 14: Lestrade Has A Case
Julia woke in good spirits the next morning. Sherlock's violin playing had drifted her into a very relaxing sleep and was glad that in some ways, a violin-player was a good flatmate after all.
She yawned and stretched feeling her back click several times and then wrapped her fluffy white M&S dressing gown tightly around her; aware that Sherlock knew which part of her body she hated the most.
When she'd gotton shot, it had come from behind her and straight through her shoulder, hence the two scars on her front and back. It was ugly and she felt a little odd to have to cover it up with foundation. She only did that when she really had to, which wasn't often.
Julia walked down the stairs from her bedroom and into the living room in which Sherlock sat an impatient look on his scowling face. Somehow she got the feeling that he hadn't slept at all.
"Hmm" she guessed as she stood in the doorway. "You're bored?"
He glared at her and she rolled her eyes.
"Of course I'm bored!" he yelled, standing up violently and making his netbook fall of his lap. Julia squinted at it; there was bullet hole through the screen.
Now why hadn't she seen that before?
"What happened?" she asked carefully, walking into the kitchen to fix up something.
"It was an experiment" he dismissed and kicked the remains of his broken computer across the room. Julia sighed heavily, shook her head and then poured out the boiled water into two mugs of coffee.
It had only been a week or so since she'd moved in and already Julia realised that she had a patience limit, but with Sherlock her temper usually lasted longer, which was peculiar.
Maybe Sherlock had a way of calming her down before she lost it?
Either way, the only time she'd lost it, had been the previous evening and she blushed at the memory.
Seeing as she was to a new environment the first day, she'd relaxed into a familiar routine and so far, hadn't raised her voice at Sherlock or anybody.
Her phone chimed. She withdrew the mobile from her pocket and read the message;
Should I tell Sherlock I got a case right up his street? – Greg
Julia snorted and left the message, not answering straight away.
Lestrade (or Greg, as he had insisted upon) came across as maybe a little too friendly but Julia didn't mind too much, if it got too much, then she would easily put him in his place.
"Two sugars?" she called to the sulking detective.
She got no response and she turned round to see if he was still there. He wasn't.
She sighed but put two sugars in Sherlock's coffee anyway. She turned around again Sherlock was pacing up and down the room…with Julia's revolver in his hand.
"What do you think you're doing?" she snapped, annoyed that he'd managed to trace and unlock her bedside drawer to get to it. She put her drink down and stormed over to him and snatched the gun from him.
Luckily it was empty and he didn't know where she'd locked her bullets.
"I'm BORED!" he whined, shouting desperately.
"Right, that's it" she said, whipping out her mobile and dialling Lestrade's number.
"Hello?"
"Yes" she said sharply.
Lestrade sounded confused and hopeful at once. "Yes, what?"
"We'll meet you at the Yard" she said, impatient. She was aware of Sherlock eyeing her dangerously.
"Oh, ok, see you then" Lestrade answered and then she hung up.
She rounded on Sherlock, "Get dressed now, Lestrade has found you a case, and he thinks it's amusing. Next time, tell him to text you, not me"
Sherlock's face lit up and he dashed out the room, his long dressing gown billowing after him.
She went upstairs, dressed out of her night clothes and dressed into another one of her fancy new dresses, stopping just below her knees, and it was a deep blue colour, made of different styles and lace. Her shoes were small heels, as boots didn't go. She donned her normal black leather jacket with the many pockets, packed her phone, plastic gloves, keys and purse and went back downstairs.
Sherlock was waiting at the front door and opened the door without looking at her as he heard her footsteps. He was dressed in his usual black suit, with a light blue shirt today, and his dark blue scarf and black cloak/coat.
"Scotland Yard, please" Julia ordered the taxi as Sherlock got in behind her and slammed the door closed.
She immediately went to her phone and started texting.
I will be pissed if this is some joke, Sherlock's quite demanding when he's got no case. – JW
Lestrade replied: Yeah, well, this one will have him puzzled – Greg
She rolled her eyes and sighed. You know that never happens – JW
She got no reply, locked her phone and put it away, looking at the consultant detective.
He was looking at her, no, scanning her.
"What NOW?" she huffed, crossing her legs and looking at her finger nails.
"Why did you get changed?"
"The same reason you did!" she replied, rolling her eyes. "I sleep in those clothes!"
His brow furrowed. Julia couldn't believe this man. For a genius, he was a bit slow in the common sense department, maybe which was her job.
"Why didn't you go out in your dressing gown?" she asked him as the taxi pulled up to Scotland Yard.
"Because I have my coat" Sherlock replied, confused.
Julia ignored him, tufted and paid the driver, got out, walking towards the doors as her heels clicked along the marble and concrete ground. There were some young WPCs standing outside the main entrance, smoking and they wolf-whistled at her as she walked past. She ignored them but heard Sherlock mutter something at them. Her insides warmed at his defence of her.
She walked straight to Lestrade's office (ignoring Donovan) and knocked twice. Sherlock just walked inside as he got to her.
Typically impatient, she thought and followed him inside.
Lestrade was sitting behind his desk, tapping his fingers absently mildly on the desk. Julia folded her arms across her chest and coughed to gain his attention.
He looked up and took in her appearance, gaping.
"You have a case?" Sherlock demanded, snapping Lestrade's attention away from Julia's pretty dress –wait pretty? Sherlock thought, confused – and gauge Lestrade's response rapidly. The detective inspector seemed to flush as he was caught staring.
"Yes, there's been another murder, possibly linked to the serial killings going on in-" Lestrade started.
Sherlock interrupted. "Barts?"
Lestrade shook his head. "The body's disappeared; the killer only left a note." Lestrade opened his desk draw and brought out a big evidence bag with a (what looked like to be) bloody stained piece of cloth.
Sherlock put his plastic gloves on and took the bag quickly before withdrawing it slowly. Julia gagged at the smell; it smelt of rotting…bodies.
That's a smell I'll never forget, she thought, closely looking at the dirty and still freshly blood-stained cloth.
The two men didn't spare her a glance. Julia remained quiet as Sherlock inhaled the scent, but she looked away as he did so. He lifted it up to his eyes, held it under a lampshade and even asked Lestrade if it had been x-rayed.
"Not yet" the DI answered and then Sherlock turned to his assistant. "What did you say?"
Julia was confused. "I didn't say anything" she said honestly.
"Yes but you were thinking it" Sherlock said, a bit annoyed.
Julia snorted and warily said "I recognize the smell, it could be of the person whose blood this is-" she pointed her gloved finger at the cloth. "-or it could be…" she trailed off.
"Pass me that a second" she said and, confused, the detective silently handed it over.
Julia closed her eyes and ran her fingers over the cloth slowly, trying to distinguish each dent, which wasn't visible to the human eye. After a few seconds she opened her eyes and squinted at the cloth.
"Get your magnifying glass out" she said, but Sherlock had already opened it and was examine the cloth. She continued "It's in a type of braille; this is a message for somebody who can read braille. I recognize it immediately.."
"How could you recognise that so easily?" Lestrade asked, amazed.
"Because I…" she started again. "Because at a point in my life, I depended on braille to get around."
"You were blind?" Lestrade asked eagerly.
"Visually impaired" she corrected sharply, reminding her of how she used to snap at people. She watched Sherlock examine the cloth thoroughly.
He then turned to her "Then you can understand the message."
"Half of it" she corrected again. "I was a child when I had to learn it. If I refresh my memory, then I can probably get it. I can read-" she took the cloth once more and closed her eyes, concentrating as she ran her fingers over slowly, trying to remember how she felt all those years ago when she lived by braille.
H…E…L…P…
"Help?" she said, opening her eyes. "That's the first word, I can't remember the rest, and it has been a while, so I won't trust my opinion."
Sherlock nodded thoughtfully and rounded on Lestrade. "Do you have any blind people in the building?"
The elderly woman shuffled towards them and titled her head in acknowledgement. She reached out a hand to touch them.
Julia stepped forward and allowed the woman to touch and feel her shoulder.
"You are the woman" she said and Julia nodded. "Julia Watson."
"I am Esther Heath" the woman replied and then said, reaching past Julia. "You said there was a man, taller than you, my dear?"
Julia turned to Sherlock and looked at him, warning him not to be harsh.
"Yes Miss Heath" Sherlock said. "I'm Sherlock Holmes."
"May I touch your shoulder my dear?" Esther asked.
"He's taller than you are Miss Heath" Julia said.
Esther chuckled "Then pass me his hand."
Sherlock extended an arm and Esther was able to feel his gloved hand.
"Nice to meet you both" she said. "What did you want to do for you, my dears?"
Sherlock extended a hand into his pocket and withdrew the evidence bag with the blood stained cloth on it. Julia felt she ought to explain.
"Can you put these gloves on Miss Heath? We are asking if you could decipher something in braille left on a piece of old cloth found where somebody was abducted. It's…not exactly clean." Julia said carefully.
Esther shuddered but took the gloves from Julia and slid them on easily and motioned to have the cloth.
Sherlock gave her the bag and she opened it and felt the cloth, closing her eyes as Julia had done and mouthed the letters to herself quietly.
"P…L…E…H…space...E…H…T…space…S…N…A…L…P…space…E…V…A..H…space…E…N…O…G" Esther said aloud and Julia wrote it down in her notepad as she spoke.
"That's all I can feel my dears" Esther said calmly and gave Sherlock the bag back after she'd put the cloth away. "But whoever used it was very…new to braille learning."
"How can you tell?" Sherlock asked sharply and Esther winced at his tone.
"Because" Esther said softly. "The way he's tried to stamp it into the cloth. It's very difficult to stamp braille into cloth, mainly because that's an old format of it. Most places used metal beads and plates to show braille. More modern, you see."
"How do you think he stamped it in, and is it in the right order?" Julia asked, "It's written wrong. I though the first-" she cut off. "No, it's been too long for me to rely on that."
Esther smiled warmly at her.
"Thank you very much for your time Miss Heath" Sherlock said courteously.
"Call me Esther, dears" Esther said, still smiling.
"Bye Esther" Julia said and Esther waved them off as the detective and his assistant walked away, Julia tucking the notepad back into her pocket.
"What do you think?" Julia asked Sherlock as they walked out the front entrance of Scotland Yard.
"I think that Miss Heath is somehow related to his scheme" Sherlock said, and he waved at a taxi.
As the taxi drove towards them Julia asked "Why? She seemed quite friendly to me!"
Sherlock grimaced. "You trust too easily sometimes Julie" he muttered. "The city and streets are somehow still like the battlefield. Never forget that, especially when you walk with me."
Julia scoffed, "Your brother accused me of that when I was abducted by him when I first met him!"
"Said what?" Sherlock was curious.
"People blunder and stumble around this city and all they see is the buildings, the cars and shops" Julia recited in a poor but accurate impression of Mycroft's slow drawl.
She could see Sherlock's smirk grow wider. "When you walk with Sherlock Holmes, you see the battlefield, you've seen it before."
Sherlock chuckled.
"Idiot" she scoffed again, and glanced out of the window. "Your brother is, at best, a pompous posh…mush" she decided on.
Sherlock barked out a laugh and she chuckled herself. "Insulting Mycroft" she said to herself. "Good times, good times."
"Where are we going?" she asked, having not heard Sherlock's direction to the cabbie.
"Barts" Sherlock replied. "I want to look at this cloth closer."