Chapter 9: Lestrade finds out the truth
It was darkening outside. Lestrade was sitting on his sofa in his little home, thinking about Mycroft. Why was the older Holmes so interested in searching Sherlock's flat? There had to be something. The inspector was thinking the whole thing over and over again. After a short time, he knew he had to find out. There must be something. He just knew it.
It was 9 PM when he stood in front of Mrs. Hudson's house, waiting for her to open. When she finally did, she was surprised to find the inspector standing in front of her. "Hi, I thought it was John. Why are you here? Has something happened? Is it Sherlock?" First of all, he had to soothe the old lady "Don't worry. No news about Sherlock yet. He's still hanging there," Greg assured her. "So why you are here?" "I need you to do me a favour. Can you please let me see Sherlock's flat? I have the feeling, there is something I need to find. It's just an intuition, but if I am right, we might find some clues to Sherlock's strange behaviour the last two months." Old Mrs. Hudson was thinking for a short moment, then agreed. "I will let you in. But please be careful." "I will. Promise. Thank you."
Meanwhile, somewhere else's world was crushing down. John Watson was sitting at his friend's bedside, when all of a sudden, the alarm went on. John jumped up, looking for the readings. The heart was beating faster, but not at an alarming rate. The doctor continued his search and discovered, that the oxygen levels were dropping. Sherlock's body was cramping. The door burst open and a doctor he never met before was entering. "What happened?" he asked alarmed. "I think he's not getting enough oxygen," Watson said. The new doctor checked the breathing tube and listened to Sherlock's lungs. His look was very serious. "It's not good. To be honest: It's very bad. I am sorry." The blogger looked at the new doctor in shock. "What is it? Tell me." "I can hear rattling sounds in both of his lungs and he's feeling hot to the touch." The doctor looked at Watson. "I think we are dealing now with pneumonia as well." John sank to the ground. "God no. Please no. That is all my fault. I knew it." "I will take a sample to find out, if we are dealing with a bacterial infection or not. First of all, I will drain his lungs from the sputum he can't expel and then I need to higher his ventilation pressure to make sure, he is getting enough oxygen." After the lungs were cleared and the ventilation pressure was raised, the stats began to improve. John sat there in silence. He had feared this would come. It was foreseeable. He wasn't working sterile, the body long in the cold water and already shutting down. John was upset. He had tried everything to save Sherlock's life and was now facing the consequences of his rescue. And this all happened because he was not there, when his friend needed him the most…
At the same time Lestrade stood in Sherlock's flat, not knowing where to start. He was sure, that Sherlock must have left something for him. He looked around. Where should he start? He had no clue. He went into Sherlock's sleeping room and found the opened pillow. Watson had told him, that he had found the unused case of Sherlock, so nothing here to find. Something told him to go into the bathroom. As he stood in front of the mirror, he suddenly felt like a child, breathing on the glass. He never expected anything to happen, but as words starting to form on the mirror, he was speechless. "O my god!" he exhaled and read the words: Fire always hurts. The inspector hurried to the chimney and started to put away the coal. His hands completely black, finally founding a little metallic case. He took it, opened it and stared. In front of him was a letter and CD. His name was written in big letters on both items. "Jesus. So, Mycroft was right. You had something in your mind." Lestrade whispered. He positioned himself in Watson's seat and started to unfold the letter, which lay on the CD.
This is my final letter,
If you are reading this, I am already dead or in a state where talking is no more possible. It is true: I'm on a case and believe me: it is indeed the hardest I've ever had. I'm scared, because I face an enemy, who his more evil, than Moriarty was. I put myself in danger. It was the only way to try and save our friend John Watson. You won't understand it now, but I am sure you will very soon. On the CD you will find a very indicative clue about what this is all about. So just do me the favour and watch it. You really need to keep this secret for yourself, because if anyone else finds out, there will be a lot more corpses very soon. Sorry to bother you with all of this, but now you are the only chance to save at least one person. I wish that all would have never happened. It did. And therefore, I am very sorry.
Remember: Two can also play the game Graham,
Stay awake, Sherlock Holmes
"It's Greg," Lestrade whispered as he finished the letter. He wasn't sure how to handle this new information. But he knew and trusted Sherlock, so he sat down and turned on the TV. The DVD Player began to play and finally, an all familiar face appeared on the screen. Mary. The inspector seemed a little surprised by her appearance, but when she started to speak, he was all ears.