Sherlock
The Thames, only place they could possibly go. The man with the prosthetic leg. He was a man who is used to water, a sailor then, not a pirate obviously, those died out centuries ago. No, this man worked for the American Navy more likely. He travels a lot if he's with the navy, that explains the man he met in South America. He's old, his hands shook on the rope, needed steady hands to help keep him from falling as he scaled the wall. So far, so obvious. Must have been looking for the treasure for a long while, they didn't steal it from him, he's too young for that, so... Intuitive leap, he helped Mary's father and company get the treasure. Meaning he wants his share. Well that does make sense the doesn't it? That would explain the... But what about the note, 'The Sign of Four'? There's a fourth person involved maybe? That would explain the note, but who is this fourth person though? The helper of the old man isn't, obviously. He's just been hired, that much is easy. Most likely the old man has a boat waiting to take him across the Thames. Wouldn't want to take a cab, too risky. It's slower taking a boat across the water then a cab, so most likely they booked a hotel room. If we're lucky, they'll be heading toward the airport to take the hired man home and the old man back to America.
"Don't suppose you could speed things up a bit?" I ask the driver, don't want to lose them now do we? That would be unfortunate.
"Sherlock?"
"Hm? What John?"
"What are you thinking?" I furrow my brow, why would he ask me something like this? Must be the young lady. If I don't look, I won't observe, I won't find anything, I won't say anything, and I won't get hurt for my troubles. It has happened before.
"About what John. Be more specific." I stare out the window, she's sitting across from me. Obviously offended that I won't even acknowledge her existence. Stop it. Quit thinking about her. You're going to end up regretting everything if you think about this a moment longer. Why thank you self, as if I didn't already know that. Dear God I hate people.
"About the case."
"What about the case John?" He sighs, I've irked him, mission accomplished. I smile a little bit, this should be entertaining.
"Just now. We were heading for the Thames, now we're going for the airport. Why?"
"You're trying to make a point."
"You're avoiding my question."
"You want me to impress little miss Mary here. Not going to happen." He makes a tutting noise, "What?"
"I wasn't."
"You were, even if you won't admit it."
"At least now you acknowledge her."
"Hardly."
"Holmes." I look up. No one calls me that. He must be annoyed. Two can play at this game,
"Watson." I look him in the face, don't notice her, she isn't there.
"Sherlock."
"John."
"Okay, stop. I'll leave you be."
"Thank you." I smile again, so easy. Mundane people. I keep my eyes down as I turn back to my window. Not looking, not noticing anything. Nope. Totally ignorant. John's going to ask me again. Oh Hell. It must be one of those kind of days.
"Please Sherlock." I sigh again, but continue to look out the window.
"They'll be headed to the airport, wanting to get out the country, fly back to South America and then home to America where the thief lives." He's unsatisfied with my answer. Obviously.
"How do you know that?"
"The thief has a prosthetic leg, indicating American Navy, not pirate, those died out centuries ago."
"Why do you think American?" Interruptions, annoying.
"Make of the leg, American, if it was anywhere else it would be from China. Anything else?"
"How does he tie in?" I sigh before looking at him again,
"Obvious, helped obtain the treasure, wants his share."
"Well couldn't he have been the one they stole it from?"
"No. Obvious. He's too young, but old enough to have been an accomplice. From the way things are looking, there were four thieves. Mary's father, the man's father, this thief, and one other person who is probably dead. He travels quite a lot and that's how he met our killer. He's been looking for the treasure for some time, that's why they are hightailing it out of here right now. Probably assumes that-"
"Sherlock." Another interruption,
"What?"
"Why won't you even look at Mary?"
"I have my reasons, those I would rather keep to myself, if it's any consolation."
"It's not. Explain." I sigh. Fine. He wants this, fine.
"The results, you brought this on yourself." He's confused but listening. Reluctantly I turn my eye sight toward the woman in the shadows, instantly taking in her life. It's been hard on her since her father died, the bags under her eyes suggest that she's been having a hard time finding sleep. Her clothes are well worn but clean, saying that she's neat, but of a lower class. Her make up is smeared, suggesting crying recently. She's delicate, easily moved to tears. Her bag is light and almost empty, her phone is outdated, she's a nanny then. Doesn't make much, but she utilizes it to survive. Her fingernails are worn, she works, thus a nanny. A young one. She was having an affair with the husband of the house, but recently broke it off, lost her job.
"What do you see?" Mary. She wants to know what I see. This probably isn't good.
"Are you sure?" She nods,
"Yes." I sigh,
"You were a nanny. The children you cared for loved you like a mother, that's why it broke your heart when they found out about the affair. You left and now you find yourself out of a job and having no money you do your washing yourself. You can't afford a new phone, but that doesn't stop you from living well. You manage your money well, and the idea that you can have money is lovely which is why you are tagging along with John here." She looks at me a moment, and I know. I've upset her. As always. This is why I don't go out at all. John gets to witness this first hand now. She reaches across and slaps me. I feel the sting across my face. I don't say anything, John doesn't say anything. The cab is quiet for a moment.
"Correct. On everything."
"Ah."
"Except, I didn't leave. I was fired."
"Right. Course. You see John?" He's quiet. That's right. I've made my point and now you feel bad. Of course. The cab stops outside of the airport, "Thanks. Now quickly or we'll miss them."
"Do you know where they'll be?"
"Of course I do! Follow me!" I lead the two of them into the packs of people, looking for my gate. I checked in the cab, gate 304 South America, Bolivia. Just as I thought. Found it, now we're looking for a man with a prosthetic leg, it won't bend at the knee, there, and next to him, a little man, not a midget, just a smaller build. The men look up and see me running to them. Shit. I've spooked them, they're going to run for it. Lucky me Lestrade had nothing to do, I texted him in the cab. Meaning, if I've managed to convince him, he's got the doors blocked. "STOP!" I shout anyway. The thief glances over his shoulder, red hair flying in his face, he can't get a good look at me, he turns back and keeps running. Today really isn't my day is it? One of the men at the door stops our limping man, and another grabs the shorter by the back of his shirt. "Thank you gentlemen, but I'm sure that you can see, they won't be running anymore." One of them nods before yelling for Lestrade who gets out of a police car.
"Nice work Sherlock. Now tell me, why do I have these men?"
"Hold on. Busy." I take my phone out, best tell my brother,
Found your men.
Caught them.
What do I do with them?
SH
"Detective Inspector Lestrade, I think you'll find that I need to talk to them, so kindly, can I have a word?"
Arrest them brother.
You know that.
MH
Done.
SH
Really?
MH
Obviously.
SH
"Who's this?"
"Mary. Can I have a word?" He rolls his eyes,
"Be my guest."
"Thank you." I survey the men in front of me before taking the packet of darts out from my jacket pocket, "These, I believe, are yours." The smaller man nods, but doesn't speak a word. "Now, tell me the story." The thief looks at me a moment, cold brown eyes smoldering slightly,
"Once upon a time, when I was a lot younger, three of my mates and I found this lovely treasure. We was gonna split it evenly amongst ourselves, but two of 'em took the chest before it was done. They disappeared for years. I spent half my life looking for that bit 'o shine. Me other mate died only last year, before we had the treasure. Simple as that."
"Why the priest. Why did the priest have to die." The smaller man looks away, not talking, but his guilt plainly dances across his face,
"I had nothing to do with that. I just wanted the treasure."
"Okay, so you're British yes?"
"'Course I am."
"Then why the American Navy?" He's taken aback, a classic reaction,
"Was available wasn't it. Made a fair bit of money with it too."
"Right. Fine. I've had my fun. Lestrade."
Have you recovered the treasure then?
MH
No.
SH
What do you mean no?
MH
Haven't found it yet.
Don't text me anymore.
SH
"Come on John. I think it's time we leave. Lestrade can take it from here." He looks at me,
"What about Mary?"
"What about her?" Quit being a child John, she doesn't want you. You've got Sarah anyway.
"What are we going to do about her?"
"Not my problem. Mycroft's people will be here any minute to find the stuff, best leave her here. Exchange numbers or something if it matters that much to you." I sigh before taking off down the street, time to get home. Been a long day. Too long I think. Time to leave it all. Actually, a nap doesn't sound half bad. Maybe just a- No. I've got that thing in the microwave, the toes, my experiment. Today was fun though. Luck of the Chinese I think. Your luck will change when a friend hands you an envelope. John certainly did that, hand me an envelope. That was exhilarating. I am now content.
Thanks Sherlock.
MH
Don't mention it.
I mean it.
Ever.
SH
Of course.
Of course Sherlock.
Never happened.
MH
Well my lovely readers, how was that for adventure. If any of you read the Sign of Four, you'd understand most of the plot, though some of it, most of it, is purely me. Now I have to spend tonight thinking of giving you something extraodinary tomorrow, it being Christmas and all, and I did promise. I just don't have anything in my head, no ideas or anything. Oh well. We'll wing it, just like everything else in my life. Thank you, you wonderful people. Happy Christmas, and enjoy your holidays. It's been brilliant. Why do I feel like I'm saying good bye? I'm not. At least not for another few chapters. Odd. Goodnight, sleep well. Happy Christmas.
Much Love,
Time Lord Victorious