Chapter 3
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Sherlock, John or anyone you recognise.
Authors note: Once again, thank you so much for reading, reviewing, following, favoriting, or even just clicking on this :) All the reviews are really positive, and i'm really grateful. I'm trying to keep Sherlock in character as much as possible throughout this fic, but i'm sorry in advance if I can't. Here's the third chapter, hope you like it :D
It was nearing lunchtime when John entered Hyde Park. He looked around, and soon saw her. She had her back to him, dark hair curled for the occasion. She wore her favorite maroon duffle coat.
"Naomi!" He called from the entrance.
She turned, revealing a stripy, turtle-neck jumper that she wore under her coat, and skinny jeans, tucked into tall brown boots. She smiled a smile which left John breathless, and started to walk towards him.
When they met, their hands entwined together and they shared a small kiss.
"Hello again," John whispered.
Naomi let go of one hand so they could walk together. They chatted casually for a while, and soon the topic of Sherlock came up.
"So how is your brilliantly strange flatmate?" She asked.
"He's okay I guess. Lestrade gave him a new case this morning which will keep him busy."
"Well that's good. Better than him moping around all the time. What's this case about anyway?"
"A man was found dead in his flat this morning. We think he was drugged."
"Or poisoned," A third voice spoke.
The couple jumped, and turned to see Sherlock stood behind them.
"Sherlock! You have to stop doing that to people!" John snapped whilst his friend smirked, "Wait, what do you mean poisoned?"
"I went to St Barts," Sherlock answered. "Molly identified what had killed him. Arsenic poisoning."
"And you're sure it wasn't a suicide?" John asked.
"We've been through this. He was planning to propose. Keep up John."
"He was planning to propose?" Naomi gasped, "That's awful."
"Indeed. Now I need your assistance," Sherlock turned to his flatmate.
"But I'm on a date."
"So?"
"So, I've already made plans with Naomi. I'm not going to drop them for your case," John exclaimed.
"You can have your date any time; this is important."
"He's right John. Go help him, we can do this later," Naomi expressed.
He looked over at her and raised his eyebrows. She nodded back at him, and with a quick hug and wave goodbye Sherlock and John were exiting the park.
"Where are we going anyway?" John asked curiously.
"Cumberland Street," The detective answered, "We need to chat with someone."
"Who?" John enquired.
Sherlock reached the edge of the pavement.
"Kathy Davids."
"Kathy Davids?" John urged as they got into a cab.
"Yes; Toby Harvard's girlfriend," Sherlock closed the door behind him. "Cumberland Street," He directed the driver.
"Oh, of course, I forgot about her," John murmured, but his flatmate heard.
"Unsurprising really, ordinary minds are easily distracted. Especially when certain women are willing to give you their undivided attention."
"Sherlock," John laughed, "One day you'll understand how love works. Someday soon."
"I don't need to understand. Love and emotion are our weaknesses John," Sherlock replied, though he looked out of the cab window, refusing to meet his friend's gaze.
John smirked. He really is oblivious isn't he?
The detective's mind retraced back to St Barts with Molly, where he felt guilty for the first time in a while.
What's wrong with me? I'm not supposed to feel these…emotions. Especially for someone like Molly, he thought He was brought out of his deep thinking when John spoke up again.
"I thought the police had already spoken to Kathy."
"Yes," Sherlock responded, "but we both know that the police are never thorough."
The detective gave him knowing smile and after a few minutes of comfortable silence, the cab pulled up at Cumberland Street. The two men sneaked into the building while an elderly lady was exiting, and knocked on the first door on the second floor. They waited patiently, and soon the door opened slowly to reveal a young woman with a frightened expression. She was undoubtedly pretty, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. But these eyes were outlined with red circles and tear tracks ran down her face. Her hair was matted and needed a brush, and her clothes were creased and stained. When she spoke, her voice was cracked, and broke twice in the same sentence.
"What do you want?" She asked.
John went to speak, but Sherlock beat him to it.
"Hello, Miss Davids. We need information on your boyfriend - Toby Harvard."
She leaned against the wall and breathed heavily.
"Look, Kathy," John spoke up, "We know this must be hard, but any information you have could help us find Toby's killer."
"Toby's killer? They told me it was suicide!"
"Then we have some news for you," Sherlock replied. He barged past her into the blue living room.
They told Kathy about the arsenic poisoning. She started off calm but soon interrupted.
"What makes you think that he couldn't have poisoned himself?"
The two men turned their heads to each other and then back at her.
"This morning," John explained, "we were identifying Toby's body when we found a receipt in his pocket. It was for an engagement ring. We found it hidden in the piano. It's very unlikely that he would have taken suicide when he had...certain plans."
Kathy's heart started pounding in her ears. She started to feel faint, and Sherlock could see her shaking.
"He was going to propose?" She asked, trembling. Tears started to run down her cheeks, replacing the dried tear tracks from earlier.
"I'm so sorry," John went over to comfort her. She cried on his shoulder until they became silent sobs.
"Fine, I'll help you. Toby was kind and sweet. He wasn't only my boyfriend, he was my best friend!"
Her voice broke, and she started sobbing again.
"Can you tell us about his relationships? Friends? Enemies?" Sherlock asked.
"He was friends with practically everyone," She whispered, "But he was in a social group. There was Ben, Harry, Kevin, Sam-"
"Any enemies?" The detective interrupted, growing impatient.
"I don't know...wait...there's one I can think of. Aaron Jones. Toby and his friends used to bully a lot of the smart students back in secondary school and he was their main victim. He was bullied by everyone really. But then Toby changed, and he apologised, though Aaron never forgave him."
Sherlock sat back, thinking deeply.
"You don't think Aaron is his murderer, do you?" Kathy stood from her seat, looking deeply into his eyes.
"You told us that Toby's friends also bullied him," Sherlock stated, ignoring her question.
"That was years ago! They were children; stupid kids."
"That's not my point, Kathy. Let's say that this 'Aaron' person is the murderer. If he killed Toby for his bullying, he'll probably target his friends aswell,"
"What makes you so sure?" Kathy urged.
"I've been bullied, Miss Davids. The desire for revenge is unbearable, and it doesn't always fade."
"But how will we know when he will attempt to kill the others?" Kathy was becoming very worried now.
"Well, we can't prove that it is him yet, but if it is, he'll probably try again at that university party that Toby didn't want to go to,"
Kathy's eyes widened and practically popped out of her head.
"The invitation on the kitchen counter" Sherlock explained, "Someone has doodled on it, so they didn't take any interest in its information. The pen has been lay on the left hand side of the flyer and whilst you are right handed Toby used his left. He obviously didn't care about this party, thought it was childish maybe?"
"How could you possibly know he thought that?"
Sherlock smirked.
"Because it is childish," He stated, "Were you planning to go to this event, Miss Davids?"
"I was, but then...this happened," She answered, motioning to the sofa, where the body of her boyfriend was long gone.
John walked through the door, the invitation in his hands. Sherlock hadn't noticed he'd left the room.
"The event is tomorrow night, 8:00pm," John read out, and then turned to his flatmate, "I'm guessing you intend to go to this thing?"
"Of course. A crowded room filled with classes of students and one murderer. Christmas has come early!" Sherlock's eyes sparkled at the thought of adventure and danger. Kathy's sharp intake of breath was easy to hear despite the excitement coming from the detective. They both looked over and immediately realised Sherlock's mistake.
"Not good?" he asked.
"A bit not good, yeah," John answered.
Half an hour later the men were about to leave the flat. They had gained as much information as possible from Kathy and persuaded her to attend to event. John scanned the invitation one last time before they exited, and noticed something that he hadn't before.
"Sherlock?"
"Yes?"
"This is a couples party,"
"Meaning?"
"We need dates,"
Sherlock froze. Of course! Why hadn't that occurred to him? How was he supposed to find a date at a days' notice? He didn't know many females (that he got along with) and he couldn't exactly take Mrs Hudson to a student party.
"I guess I could take Naomi, but what about you?" John asked.
The detective turned to the blubbering blonde, and smiled sympathetically.
"Thank you for all your help Kathy, and I'm so sorry for your loss."
John's jaw dropped at his flatmates politeness, but after he gave his own condolences and said goodbye, they were back on the streets of London, hailing a cab. Back in the flat, Kathy was sitting down with a fresh cup of tea, when she noticed a small navy box on the coffee table. She put down her mug and -hands shaking- opened it. The sight of the ring brought new tears to her eyes. She cradled the box in her hands, and sat motionless for hours.