Chapter 21: Too Heavy

Hours had passed and still no word on the head surgeon. John was pacing up and down in front of the OR, while Greg Lestrade was sitting on a chair, trying to drink his coffee. Sherlock was still lost and when John tried to call him on his phone the line was dead.

"Still no sign of Sherlock?" Lestrade asked worried.

"No. Phone is still dead," the blogger replied.

"I really hope Steven is pulling through. We need him to solve that puzzle."

John shot an angry look at the inspector. "Is that all that's bothering you? Solving this damn case?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to say?" Greg asked confused.

"A little child has been murdered and two years ago the man already lost his wife. I don't know if I could handle two deaths in such a short period of time." The blogger was sighing deeply. Hailey's death was affecting him personally. He tried to get rid of those feelings but as a father, he just couldn't.

The doors of the OR opened and a young doctor with red hair was approaching them.

"I guess you are Inspector Lestrade from Scotland Yard?"

Lestrade nodded. "That's me, yes. That's a good friend of mine. Meet Dr John Watson."

Both doctors shook hands.

"Dr Keith Allister."

"So, how is he?" John asked tense.

The expression on the doctor's face told John what he already suspected.

"He made it through surgery but the massive blood loss is still working against us."

"I saw the pool of blood in the trauma room. How much do you think he lost?" Watson wanted to know.

"From the units we used, I would say at least two and a half litres. But who knows? He was found in a pool of his own blood in the cell. Maybe the paramedics can tell you more."

"His condition right now?" John asked further.

"Critical but stable. We have him on full life support until he gets some strength back," the doctor informed calmly.

"How are his chances of making a full recovery?" Lestrade now joined the conversation.

"Whatever he used, he made sure not to cut his tendons. So, if your question is meant for his career, I would say there won't be any permanent damage. All other questions can be answered after he wakes up," Dr Allister informed.

"Can we see him?" the blogger asked calmly.

"Let's wait until tomorrow. He needs to stabilize a little further and if he survives the night, you can see him shortly first thing in the morning."

Greg and John respected Dr Allister's advice and decided it was better to search for Sherlock, who was still missing.

Outside the hospital, both men looked at the sky and sighed.

"I still can't believe we failed him," Greg whispered.

"That's the problem with Moriarty. He is always one step ahead. Even Sherlock wasn't aware of this man's brilliance," John replied.

"His daughter was only seven years old. My daughter is around this age and the thought of losing her – it would destroy me."

"Same with Rosie," the blogger agreed.

The two friends started to walk through the park. The remains of Culverton Smith's and Sherlock's fight had been cleaned up and people were allowed to use it now.

"Like there never was blood in the grass," John whispered.

"I still can't believe you two survived this unharmed," Greg admitted.

"It was a very hard time, even for Sherlock. He tried to hide it from me but after Culverton Smith he was frightened. I never saw him like that."

"We all have a breaking point. It's human nature."

"Don't say the word human. He could hear it," Watson mumbled.

The two men found a bench and sat down.

"Do you think he will make it?" Lestrade asked worried.

"I really don't know. I do hope he pulls through but from the look of Allister I would say, it's not looking good."

"I am sure it was planned to kill him anyway. You know what I mean?"

Now John looked at Greg astonished. "You mean it would not have made any difference if Sherlock had died or not?"

Inspector Lestrade nodded. "Exactly. They would have killed Steven, no matter what he would have done."

For a few minutes they were just sat there, thinking.

"You know what? It's time for me to return to Scotland Yard. Maybe they will let me see his cell so I can search for clues. Anything that would help us at the moment, don't you think?"

John Watson looked at his watch and then at Lestrade, "You are right. Every clue will bring us closer to the truth. The next few hours I will be busy trying to find Sherlock. I hate when he runs away."

Greg just grinned, "Even my daughter is easier to handle than your friend."

"Sometimes I understand why Mycroft and Sherlock can't get along that well…"

It was getting dark outside and after three hours of searching, John decided to gave up his search. If Sherlock needed him, he would sure as hell call. The doctor was walking in the direction of 221B Baker Street, when he saw Sheila standing in front of the door.

"Now look who is standing in front of my door," John said with a big smile on his face. He hadn't seen Sheila for two days and was now surprised to find her in front of his home.

"Hi, I was taking Rosie from Mrs Hudson. She is going out this evening, so she asked me if I can look after your little princess."

"I don't know how to thank you. You are always here for me when I need you."

Sheila instantly recognized that her beloved partner was struggling with his emotions.

"John? What's wrong?"

And all of a sudden, the burden on his shoulders was just too much to handle and he started to sob, "She is dead. She is dead and I couldn't do anything to prevent it."

"Who is dead, John?"

"Hailey. Steven's daughter. They killed her. They…just killed her."

The young woman stared at the blogger in shock, "Are you sure?"

John just nodded.

Now Sheila was gasping for air, "Oh no. Please not. Steven just lost his wife. This is not fair."

"You haven't heard about Steven yet?" the blogger asked irritated.

"No. What should I know? All that you told me was he is in prison to make sure he is safe."

"He was, exactly."

"So?" Sheila questioned.

"He tried to commit suicide after he found out about his little girl," John explained to her.

The young paramedic was slightly trembling. "This can't be. This just can't be."

"Believe me, it's true. He survived surgery and now they are waiting if he pulls through the night."

The blogger's mobile started to ring and as he looked at the screen, he could see it was Sherlock. For a moment he hesitated but then decided it was better to answer it.

"Where are you Sherlock?"

"The girl is not dead."

John stared at his phone, "What are you saying?"

"As I just told you. The girl is NOT dead. Hailey is still alive."

"Okay Sherlock. I am coming. Where are you?"

"I am at Bart's. You know where to find me."

The line went dead and John looked at Sheila with a shocked look.

"Just go. He needs you right now," Sheila tousled his hair, smiled at him and gave him a fast kiss.

"Thank you honey. I am glad you always have my back," the doctor whispered and waved his hand for a cab.

When John entered the laboratory, he immediately recognized his friend who was once more looking through a microscope.

"Ah John, there you are."

"You called me, so here I am."

Sherlock didn't bother to look up, "It took me a while to figure it out. But after some tests and closer scrutiny it's clear Steven was fooled."

"I really hope you are right Sherlock," John replied sceptically.

"Just look at the photo and tell me, what do you see," the detective advised.

The doctor stepped closer and looked through the microscope.

"I can't see anything suspicious," he said disappointed.

"If you look close enough, you will see that the background and Hailey doesn't fit together. I assume someone put two pictures together," Sherlock explained to his friend.

"You mean someone used Photoshop to combine two different pictures?"

"Exactly John. The resolutions of both pictures are different. The background must be 300ppi, while the picture of Hailey has only 180ppi. When the two pictures were put together, the computer automatically used the higher resolution of 300ppi, so the picture of Hailey was zoomed in, to fit the size of the image. If you look again, you can see the blurred margins around Hailey."

John took another look and gasped," Amazing Sherlock. You are right. I can see it now."

"So, what's that telling us?"

"I don't know but I am sure you will tell me in a second," John sighed.

"It tells us, that Hailey isn't in this flat anymore," Sherlock cried.

"How can you be sure that Hailey is still alive?" John asked confused.

"Now here comes the interesting part. I took some samples of the photo and also looked for fingerprints."

"And?

"Shut down the lights and then come here and take a look," Sherlock said excited.

The blogger did as he was told and when he stepped back to the table, Sherlock was holding a UV lamp in his hand, giving it to Watson. In front of the two men was the photo of the dead girl and when John switched the UV lamp on, fingerprints could be seen. John's mouth opened but no sound was come out.

"Well?" Sherlock asked with a grin.

"I guess you are right Sherlock. Those are definitely the fingerprints of a child, but not the ones of an adult."

"This tells us what?" The detective was walking around impatiently.

"The child was looking at the photo?" John questioned.

"Exactly! The child, most likely Hailey, was holding the picture and looking at it. One thing is for sure John. Someone is playing a really bad game here," the detective whispered.

Chief inspector Lestrade was sitting at his office. After he had visited the cell, where Steven tried to end his life, he just wanted to be alone. There was so much blood and Greg doubted they would ever see the head surgeon alive again. While he was sitting at his desk, hands folded in front of his chin, his mobile started to ring. One quick glance at the mobile and he answered with curiosity.

"Tell me you have something Sherlock," he pleaded.

"I do, but I need proof."

"Proof? What proof?" the inspector wanted to know.

"Is it possible to get some fingerprints of Hailey?"

"I can't break into his house without a reason. How am I supposed to do that?" Greg replied.

"You can ask the neighbours?"

"Yeah exactly. Steven is not in the News yet, so what do you think happens when I break into his house?" the inspector sounded not too happy.

"If I am right, Hailey is still alive but to be one hundred percent sure, I need a fingerprint from her," Sherlock explained.

"As I already told you: It would cause too many problems. You have to find another way, I'm sorry."

"I was just trying the legal way," the detective said and ended the call.

Lestrade stared at his phone for a moment, then sighed, "I hope you are doing it right this time Sherlock."

When the detective ended the call, he looked at John, "I need your help."

"What do you want me to do?" John looked at him excited.

"You are going to visit Steven's house. Make it look like you are a friend of his."

The blogger stared at him shocked, "You want me to break into his house?"

"If we want to save Hailey, yes."

"Why not you?"

"Because, John, everyone knows who I am and that would cause rumours in the neighbourhood. We don't want that, do we?"

Sherlock had a point and John knew it, "Alright. I will try. What about you?"

"I will have a talk with the firefighters from his neighbourhood. Maybe someone knows the flat in the photo," the detective replied with a smile.

"Sounds like a plan," John nodded and both men decided it was time to get some sleep.

The next morning John found himself standing in front of the head surgeon's big house. In front of it, the wind was slightly blowing through the two big trees, that were growing in front of it. A cherry tree was on the right side of the big garden and John could smell the scent of its flowers. Steven had built himself a zone to unwind and relax that every doctor would dream of. Everything was quiet. Too quiet for John's liking. He sighed and stepped in front of the door. When he knocked, he didn't expect anyone to open it, so the surprise was even bigger when suddenly an older lady was standing in front of him.

"Yes?" she asked, her voice very thin.

John cleared his throat, "Hi, my name is Dr John Watson. I am here because of Steven and Hailey."

"Steven? I haven't seen him for days. He must be busy at the hospital. And Hailey is at school. She only comes home on the weekends," the lady informed.

"I see," John whispered to himself.

"Maybe I can help you? I am his housekeeper by the way."

"We should talk inside Mrs…?"

"Baker. My name is Joanne Baker."

"Well Joanne, do you mind if we go inside and have a little talk?" the blogger tried again.

"I don't mind. Friends of Steven are always welcome."

The two stepped into the house and Mrs Baker offered him a seat in the living room, while she was making some tea. John looked around. For a head surgeon, Steven was a very modest man. The only expensive thing the doctor could see was the white marble desk in front of him.

"You are a very stylish man Steven," John whispered.

Mrs Baker stepped out of the kitchen, a tray with a tea pot and two tea cups on it.

"I made us a very good Earl Grey. I hope you like it." She positioned herself next to him in the second armchair and looked at him.

"So, what is it you want to talk about?" she asked.

"I don't know how to begin Mrs Baker…"

"Joanne. You can call me Joanne." Her smile never faded.

"Well, Joanne. I am here because Steven is in a lot of trouble right now. I can't tell you more at the moment but I need you to help me. The faster we can work things out, the faster he is a free man again."

Now the old woman was getting louder, "What is wrong with Steven? Tell me the truth or I won't help you at all! Steven is a good man, so don't you dare fool me."

John tried to soothe the agitated Mrs Baker and decided it was better to tell the truth, "Mrs Baker, what I am saying now, must be very disturbing for you but I need you to stay calm, okay?"

The woman just nodded.

John took a deep breath, then started, "Steven was forced to do something very bad, therefore he was put in jail."

"What are you talking about? Steven would never do anything against the law," the woman whispered irritated.

"He was blackmailed Joanne. They pressed him with his child and he was desperate to lose Hailey. That's the reason he did, what he did."

"Jesus. This man has been through enough. Why is it always him who gets into trouble?"

"There is more I have to tell you."

John could see Joanne's eyes starting to water.

"Steven is still at risk of being attacked, so Scotland Yard decided to put him into a cell for his own safety. It was never meant to harm him. Hailey is still missing and when he got a photo of his daughter where she seems to be dead, he decided he couldn't take anymore."

"Are you saying he tried to commit suicide?" she asked in shock.

"He tried. Yesterday. He survived but the prognosis is not good."

Mrs Baker put the cup aside and looked at John, her face full of desperation.

"Dear Lord. Why him? He did nothing wrong. He is a good man. He loves his daughter; he saves lives and he also donates money for homeless families." The tears were running now and John decided it was best to embrace the old woman, spreading some comfort.

Now I know, why you didn't want to come here Sherlock, he silently cursed.

After the old lady had spilled her tears over him and soaked his shirt, he tried once more to get the housekeeper's help.

"Mrs Baker, I know you are very upset at the moment but we need to focus now on Steven and Hailey. His girl is still missing and we need clues of where to find her." After giving the news about Steven, John decided not to mention the situation about Hailey.

"How can I help you?" the woman sobbed.

"Can you show me Hailey's room?"

Mrs Baker wiped away the last of her tears, sniffled and then nodded, "It's upstairs. I will show it to you."

The housekeeper guided John to the big stairwell, which was leading to the rooms on the first floor. When they reached Hailey's room, John opened the door and gasped. Hailey's room was more than just beautiful. It was something the blogger had never seen before. In front of him was a room, that reminded him of the garden of Eden. Guinea pigs were walking freely around the room. On the right-side stones were building a little rock like hill, so the cute animals could climb around. There was a little brook, floating from the rocks to the left side, where a little tree was positioned. Budgies were sitting in it and the singing of the birds formed a smile on John. He remembered his own childhood, where he had a blue budgie called Tibo. The ground of Hailey's room was covered with fake grass and her bed, which was placed next to the tree, had the shape of a ship.

"Amazing, I never saw such a beautiful room," the blogger said with a big smile on his face.

"It took Steven over two years to finish it. Everything you see here, is made by himself. The spare free time he had, he always sacrificed for his daughter and this special room."

John, still totally overwhelmed from the sight, stepped into the room. The first step was enough to alarm the guinea pigs and all of a sudden, the blogger was surrounded by fifteen members of the family. John bent down to stroke one of them but when he tried, they all disappeared. Slowly he walked to the writing desk and searched it. When he opened the drawer, he found a tablet and sighed relieved, "Jackpot."

He turned round to look at Mrs Baker, "Do you mind if I take the tablet with me? I am sure it could help us in solving the case."

"As long as you bring it back, I don't mind. By the way, who is 'we'?" Mrs Baker asked curious.

"I am working for Sherlock Holmes," John replied with a smile.

"The great detective who nearly died when trying to catch Culverton Smith?"

"Guess everyone connects this case with Sherlock," John whispered.

"I heard you were in it, too," the old lady said.

The statement surprised John, "Yes, that's right. How did you know? I mean, no one is talking about me. I'm just kind of a bystander."

"No, you are not. Didn't you read the newspapers?" she asked kind of stunned.

"Not after Culverton, no. I was facing my own demons at that time," the blogger explained.

"Your friend was very public after this case but no matter which article I read, there was one thing he always made clear."

John looked at the housekeeper, a questioning look on his face.

"He owes his life to you because you saved it," the old lady explained.

The blogger didn't know how to react. Mrs Baker saw the expression of the baffled man and smiled.

"Sometimes only he is just a human being."

"What did you just say?" John looked at her very amazed.

"High Functioning Sociopath. That's what he thinks about himself. But I can tell you, he is more human than he likes to believe."

"I guess you are right."

Both stood there in silence for a moment.

"You can take the tablet. Please make sure Hailey is going to get it back," Mrs Baker offered.

The blogger nodded, put on some gloves and carefully secured the tablet in a plastic bag.

"Thank you. I am sure this will help us a lot."

Mrs Baker just nodded. "I hope no one is getting harmed."

When the blogger left the house, a cab was already waiting outside. John stepped closer to find his friend sitting in the back of the car.

"Now that's a surprise," he said while joining the detective.

"Unfortunately, the firemen couldn't help me. Waste of time. I hope you were luckier."

John handed Hailey's tablet to the detective.

"Now that's something we can work with. John, you are brilliant. I hope you know that."

"Well, most of the time I feel like a fool but I always thought it has to be this way," the blogger replied.

The cab driver was getting impatient, "Where do you want me to take you?"

"Bart's please," Sherlock said and let out a deep breath, "Showtime…"