Authoress Note: Welcome to chapter 6 of Supposed to Be. Thank you to those who have reviewed this story and kept up with it. I hope that these updates are making up for how long I had taken to get them out. I promise that I'll be updating more often, or at least try to anyway. I hope that you guys enjoy this next chapter. Without further ado Chapter 6. Enjoy
Chapter 6
They arrived back at 221B Bakers Street and walked along the hallways, breathing heavily.
John hung his jacket on a hook on the wall while Sherlock draped his coat over the bottom bannisters.
Iseabail carefully hung up her jacket on another hook on the wall taking a soft breath running her hands through her pixie cut hair fixing it some.
"Okay, that was ridiculous." John said as he tried to catch his breath.
They leaned side by side against the wall trying to catch their breaths still.
"That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done."
"And you invaded Afghanistan." Sherlock pointed out.
John laughed and a moment later Sherlock began to laugh.
Iseabail let out a soft giggle shaking her head lightly.
"That wasn't just me."
Sherlock chuckled softly.
"Why aren't we back at the restaurant?"
Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, they can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway."
"So what were we doing there?"
Sherlock cleared his throat. "Oh, just passing the time." He looked at John. "And proving a point."
"What point?"
"You." He turned and called loudly toward the door to Mrs. Hudson's ground floor flat. "Mrs Hudson! Doctor Watson will take the room upstairs."
"Says who?"
Sherlock looked towards the front door. "Says the man at the door."
John looked towards the door just as someone knocked on the door three times. He turned back to look at Sherlock in surprise.
Sherlock smiled a simple smile.
John stared at him for a moment, then walked along the hall to get the door.
Sherlock leaned his head back against the wall and let out a breath.
Iseabail looked over at Sherlock. "Just proving a point that he didn't need the cane?" She mused with a small smile.
Sherlock let out a soft chuckle.
John turned his head to see Sherlock smiling. He thanked Angelo and came back in and closed the door.
Mrs. Hudson came out of her flat and hurried towards the three of them. "Sherlock, what have you done?"
"Mrs Hudson?" Sherlock questioned his brows raising slightly.
"Upstairs."
Sherlock turned and hurried up the stairs, John and Iseabail following him. Sherlock opened the living room door and went inside finding Greg sitting there casually in the arm chair facing towards the door.
Other police officers are going through Sherlock's possessions.
Sherlock stormed over to Greg. "What are you doing?"
Greg looked up at him. "Well, I knew you'd find the case. I'm not stupid."
"You can't just break into my flat."
"And you can't withhold evidence. And I didn't break into your flat."
"Well, what do you call this then?"
Greg looked around as his officers looked back to Sherlock innocently. "It's a drugs bust."
"Seriously?! This guy, a junkie?! Have you met him?!" John said, looking at him with his eyes wide in bewilderment.
Sherlock turned and walked over to John, biting his lip nervously. "John …"
"I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational."
"John, you probably want to shut up now."
"Yeah, but come on …" He looked into Sherlock's eyes. "No."
"What?"
"You?"
"Shut up!" Sherlock snapped angrily. He turned back to Greg. "I'm not your sniffer dog."
"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog." Greg nodded towards the kitchen.
Iseabail let out a groan. "Seriously Greg? You're going through all of this for what?" She hissed to him as she got close to him.
"What, An…" He trailed off as the closed doors to the kitchen slid open revealing more officers in there searching through the room.
Anderson turned towards the living room and raised his hand in a sarcastic greeting.
"Anderson, what are you doing here on a drugs bust?"
"Oh, I volunteered."
Sherlock turned away biting his lip angrily.
"They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drugs squad, but they're very keen." Greg said, looking at Sherlock.
Donovan came into view from the kitchen, holding a small glass jar with some white round objects in it. "Are these human eyes?"
"Put those back!"
"They were in the microwave!"
"It's an experiment."
"Keep looking, guys." Greg said as he got to his feet and turned to Sherlock. "Or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down."
Sherlock paced angrily. "This is childish."
"Well, I'm dealing with a child. Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?"
"Oh, what, so-so-so you set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?" Sherlock stopped and stared at Greg angrily.
"It stops being pretend if they find anything."
"I am clean!"
"Is your flat? All of it?"
"I don't even smoke." Sherlock said unbuttoning the cuff of his left shirt arm and pulled it up to show the nicotine patch on his lower arm.
"Neither do I." Greg said, rolling up his right sleeve of his own jacket and shirt to show a similar patch on his arm.
Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned away as they both rolled their sleeves down again.
"So let's work together. We've found Rachel."
Sherlock turned his head to look at Greg. "Who is she?"
"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter."
Sherlock frowned. "Her daughter? Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?"
"Never mind that. We found the case." Anderson said, pointing out the pink suitcase that was in the living room. "According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favourite psychopath."
"Oh come off it, Anderson." Iseabail said, looking over at Anderson with narrowed eyes. She was beginning to tire of how Anderson and Donovan treated Sherlock because of how different he was.
"I'm not a psychopath, Anderson. I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research." Sherlock turned back to Greg. "You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. I need to question her."
"She's dead." Greg pointed out.
"Excellent!"
John looked at Sherlock startled.
Iseabail let out a breath pinching the bridge of her nose as she shook her head lightly. Of course Sherlock would be treating this so much differently.
"How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be."
"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago." Greg pointed out.
John grimaced sadly and turned away.
Sherlock on the other hand was confused. "No, that's ... that's not right. How ... Why would she do that? Why?"
"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yup – sociopath; I'm seeing it now." Anderson said, looking at Sherlock.
Sherlock turned to Anderson with an exasperated look on his face. "She didn't think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt." Sherlock began to pace back and forth across the room again.
"You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well, maybe he ... I don't know, talks to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow." John said thinking.
Sherlock stopped and turned to John. "Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?"
John stared at him.
Sherlock hesitated as he realized that everyone in the flat had stopped what they were doing and had fallen silent. He glanced around the room and then looked awkwardly at John. "Not good?"
John also glanced around the room before looking back at Sherlock. "Bit not good, yeah."
Sherlock shook it off and stepped closer to John and looked at him intently. "Yeah, but if you were dying ... if you'd been murdered: in your very last few seconds what would you say?"
""Please, God, let me live.""
Sherlock let out an exasperated breath. "Oh, use your imagination!"
"I don't have to."
Sherlock saw the look of pain on John's face. He paused momentarily and blinked a couple of times, shifting his feet apologetically before continuing. "Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever ... Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers: she was clever." He started to pace again. "She's trying to tell us something."
Mrs. Hudson came to the door of the living room. "Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Sherlock."
"I didn't order a taxi. Go away." He said as he continued to pacing.
Mrs. Hudson looked around the room. "Oh, dear. They're making such a mess. What are they looking for?"
"It's a drugs bust, Mrs Hudson." Iseabail pointed out letting out a breath.
"But they're just for my hip. They're herbal soothers."
With his back to the door, Sherlock stopped before shouting. "Shut up, everybody, shut up! Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe. I'm trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You're putting me off."
"What? My face is?!" Anderson said, offended.
"Everybody is quiet and still. Anderson, turn your back." Greg ordered the man.
"Oh, for God's sake!"
"Your back, now, please!"
"Come on, think. Quick!" Sherlock muttered to himself.
"What about your taxi?" Mrs. Hudson asked softly.
"MRS HUDSON!" Sherlock shouted as he turned and looked at her.
Sher turned and hurried away down the stairs.
Sherlock stopped and looked around as he finally realised something. "Oh." He smiled in delight. "Ah! She was clever, clever, yes!" He walked across the room and then turned back towards the others. "She's cleverer than you lot and she's dead. Do you see, do you get it? She didn't lose her phone, she never lost it. She planted it on him." He started to pace again.
Iseabail watched him, her brows raised as she watched him grow more and more in delight.
"When she got out of the car, she knew that she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer."
"But how?" Greg questioned his brows furrowing.
Sherlock stopped and stared at Greg. "Wha...? What do you mean, how?"
Greg shrugged.
"Rachel!" He looked at everyone triumphantly.
Everyone but Iseabail looked at him blankly.
"Don't you see? Rachel!"
Still everyone looked at him blankly.
Iseabail let out a laugh of disbelief with Sherlock.
"Oh, look at you lot. You're all so vacant. Is it nice not being me? It must be so relaxing. Rachel is not a name."
"Then what is it?" John questioned Sherlock sternly.
"John, on the luggage, there's a label. E-mail address."
John looked at the label on the suitcase and read out the address. "Er, jennie dot pink at mephone dot org dot uk."
Sherlock had sat down at the dining table and looked at his computer notebook. "Oh, I've been too slow. She didn't have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone, so it's a smartphone, it's e-mail enabled." He pulled up the Mephone's website and typed in the email address. "So there was a website for her account. The username is her e-mail address …" He began to type the password into the next box. "and all together now, the password is?
Iseabail walked over to look at the computer. "Rachel."
"So we can read her e-mails. So what?" Anderson questioned.
"Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the I.Q. of the whole street. We can do much more than just read her e-mails. It's a smartphone, it's got GPS, which means if you lose it you can locate it online. She's leading us directly to the man who killed her."
"Unless he got rid of it." Lestrade pointed out.
"We know he didn't." John pointed out to them
Sherlock looked at the screen impatiently. "Come on, come on. Quickly!"
Mrs. Hudson trotted up the stairs and came to the door again. "Sherlock, dear. This taxi driver …"
Sherlock got up to his feet and walked towards her. "Mrs Hudson, isn't it time for your evening soother?"
John sat down on the chair which Sherlock had vacated and watched a clock spinning around on the website as it claims that the phone will be located in three minutes.
Sherlock turned to Greg. "We need to get vehicles, get a helicopter."
Mrs. Hudson looked around anxiously as a man walked slowly up the stairs behind her.
"We're gonna have to move fast. This phone battery won't last forever." Sherlock said to Greg.
"We'll just have a map reference, not a name." Greg said, shaking his head.
"It's a start!"
On the computer the map had appeared and now was zooming in on the location of the phone.
"Sherlock …" John called out.
"It narrows it down from just anyone in London. It's the first proper lead that we've had." Sherlock said, rambling on.
"Sherlock …"
Sherlock hurried across the room and looked over John's shoulder. "What is it? Quickly, where?"
The map was now showing the precise location of the phone.
"It's here. It's in two two one Baker Street."
Sherlock straightened up. "How can it be here? How?"
"Well, maybe it was in the case when you brought it back and it fell out somewhere." Greg pointed out.
"What, and I didn't notice it? Me? I didn't notice?" Sherlock said in agitation.
"Anyway, we texted him and he called back." John said, looking at Greg.
Greg turned and called out to his colleagues. "Guys, we're also looking for a mobile somewhere here, belonged to the victim …"
Sherlock tuned him out as he began to remember the questions he had asked John earlier.
Behind Mrs. Hudson the man had reached the top of the stairs. He was wearing a cardigan with a cap on his head obscuring his face and had a badge in a leather holder on a cord around his neck.
Sherlock stood lost in thought in the flat.
Iseabail began to think of everything that Sherlock had asked prior. Her brain was firing on half power due to the lack of sleep that she had been getting since she had started working at Scotland Yard.
Sherlock turned his head, still putting everything together in his brain.
On the landing the taxi driver took out a pink smartphone from his pocket and pressed the screen to send a text.
A moment later, Sherlock's phone thrilled with a text alert. He quickly took his phone out of his jacket pocket and looked at the message and saw it said come with me. Sherlock turned his head towards the door, the taxi driver turned around and calmly headed down the stairs.
"Sherlock, you okay?" John questioned his brows furrowed.
Sherlock vaguely watched the man go. "What? Yeah, yeah, I-I'm fine."
"So, how can the phone be here?"
"Dunno."
John got up to his own feet and pulled his phone out of his jean pocket. "I'll try it again."
"Good idea." Sherlock turned towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Iseabail questioned her brows furrowing together in concern.
"Fresh air. Just popping outside for a moment. Won't be long."
John and Iseabail frowned as Sherlock left the room.
"You sure you're all right?" John called out to Sherlock.
"I'm fine." Sherlock said hurrying down the stairs.
Iseabail looked at John with a worried gaze. That was not normal for Sherlock to brush things off like this. Perhaps he had come onto something and it was dangerous. She bit her lip in concern. She could only hope that Sherlock wasn't putting himself in danger.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
This is the end of Chapter 6. I hope that you guys enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing this part. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. I will try to update as soon as I can. Until next time.
