Sherlock
Mycroft leans back in his chair, taking in everything I had told him. Stupid.
"What does it mean?" John asks, this is why I keep him around, he asks the questions, I do my thing, it's a thing. Mycroft sighs,
"It means this case is bigger then I originally thought."
"Damn." I murmur. I don't want to take his case for him. This is precisely why I didn't want this in the first place. He's taking over my life he is. Trying to manipulate me into doing everything he wants. John looks up,
"What?" Mycroft fills him in before I can get a word in,
"It means that you have to take this case. It requires leg work and I find that I am unable to leave the office as often as I would like. It means that you are now on this case." I look up,
"No." John looks at me now, as if to ask me what the Hell I'm saying. "I said no John, you heard me." Now Mycroft looks upset,
"Sherlock, this case is important. A man has died, there is a missing treasure and a woman in distress, do you have any idea what kind of a day I've had?" Try to make me feel guilty, that's right. Just try. I shake my head,
"You haven't told me anything about this case whatsoever that would make me even want to consider working it for you." No doubt, John's already interested, he wants to save the lady in distress, save the woman, get in her good graces, viola, instant girlfriend. How boring. Mycroft pulls out a drawer and starts to rummage in it, looking for a file no doubt, one that would make me interested. He pulls it out and slides it in front of me,
"Take a look." I sigh before flicking it open, why do I put up with this when there are far more interesting things going on. Not that anything comes to mind right now, but there could be. I scan the page, a young woman by the name of Mary came in and said that she was upset her house had been broken into, nothing was taken but a note was placed on her desk with the words 'The sign of four' written on it. Another man, who wishes to remain anonymous came forward saying that his grandfather told him about a treasure that he had hid away. Apparently half of it belongs to Mary because their father's worked together in getting it. The treasure has been missing for years. The priest who was found with a dart in his neck was the brother of the mysterious man had supposedly found the treasure. The unknown man and Mary were going to pick up the treasure when they discovered the body. Along with the body was another note reading, 'The sign of four'. That's the whole case. That's it. I flick through to see if there are any other things that I need to see, things that could make this case a bit more interesting. Oh here we go. Apparently there was no way into the room besides the window. And that is four floors up, oh. And a sky light. I roll my eyes.
"Do you really need me? Really Mycroft? This is low. Even for you."
"Sherlock, I need you on this one. I've already set up a meeting with Mary."
"That won't be necessary. I just need to see the crime scene. Ten minutes. Get us to the church and then I'll decide if I'll help."
"Thank you Sherlock."
"Never mention this." He nods, "I'm serious Mycroft, I'm sick of doing your dirty work." John smiles at me, as if secretly thanking me for taking the case. "This doesn't go in your blog. Ever." He shakes his head,
"Course not. Whatever you say Sherlock." He turns to Mycroft, "Get us on the case." He smiles, I hate my brother sometimes,
"Of course. Right away. There's a car waiting outside to take you to the church." He smiles, that's a dismissing remark. He wants us to leave right now. I stand up,
"Come on John, I know when I'm not wanted." He snickers, what is wrong with him?
"Do you though?" Confusion, what on Earth is he going on about?
"Obviously." The car ride to the church is boring, pointless and silent, each of us thinking our own thoughts, my mind is racing for a way to explain everything. I can't be sure until I see everything though. Until I observe. Almost as soon as the car stops, I throw myself out of the car and race up the steps to the room in question. Taking in everything. The door was locked from the inside, the window had been unlocked, a rope on the chair suggests that there were two people in on this, the second is the man who killed the priest, he came in through the skylight, attached a rope to the rafters, killing the priest with a dart before doing so. The skylight is still open suggesting this happened fairly recently. The dead man's body had been moved, but the note was still on the table. 'The Sign of Four.' How quaint. My eyes do one last sweep, foot prints suggest that the first man had a prosthetic leg. That leaves me with one spot. One place. The only place they could go together. Have to check first. I move the chair under the skylight and clamber up onto the roof, small, barefoot footprints. A child? No. That isn't right. Small man then.
"Sherlock!" I hear my name from the room, ignore it, look at what I've found. A packet. It's got more darts in it. The killer must have dropped it when he fled from the scene. "Sherlock!" I hear it again. Might as well. I poke my head through the skylight to see John staring up at me, a young lady clutching at his arm,
"What? I'm busy."
"Sherlock get down, you're going to fall." Look at him. How cute. He's acting all maternal.
"Yes Mummy." I mock and make a show of going back down, only to pull myself onto the roof again. I hear him shout out in anger before dashing down the stairs and outside.
"Sherlock. If you die, I'm going to laugh."
"No you won't. The killer ran along the roof like so," I teeter a bit, give him a scare, it's so worth it, "And jumped off onto this balcony here, like a real acrobat," I follow the trail of our murderer and land on the balcony a couple feet off the ground. It groans under me. Shit. That can't mean anything good. "Um... John. We might have a problem here... It appears that the killer was much lighter then me. It looks like this is going to f-" The rest of my sentence is cut off by a shout from my own mouth as the whole thing comes tumbling down.
"SHERLOCK!" I land hard on my feet and immediately sit down. That doesn't feel good. My feet and legs are tingling. That doesn't feel good at all. How come the world is spinning so? I sit there a moment, looking at John's face as he looks down at me and tuts. I blink hard before holding my hands out for assistance getting up. The blond lady from before is back, and she looks at me curiously. Ignore her,
"John, we have to hurry." I race to the street to hail a cab,
"Where?"
"The Thames." John's confusion shows in his voice as he talks to the young lady,
"Shut up. They're getting away."