CHAPTER 4. THE ACCUSER AND THE ACCUSED
John and Sherlock walked through the mess of papers, the upturned furniture, two uniforms outside seemed reluctant to let them in, but some quick talking and a phone call to Sargent Donovan and they where allowed entry. The doctor noted how the two men eyed them with open hostility and distrust.
John swore under his breath moving to turn over the couches, "Bastards." He took note of the pillow and blankets; did Lestrade sleep on the couches regularly?
The burglars had broken pictures that hung on the walls, Lestrade's home was simple, very obvious that a women once lived there. The curtains white lace, a flower pot of daisies watered everyday, Sherlock deduced, flowers his wife grew some sentimental compulsion kept Lestrade watering them. Probably a link between the two, if the flowers died then so did their love. Sherlock rolled his eyes; having never met the women he instantly didn't like her from deductions he'd made over the years.
Greg Lestrade was smarter than the imbeciles in his employ not by much but still a bit smarter, he saved his money, he hardly drank, a hard worker and Sherlock once heard Molly say that the DI was handsome. Therefore in conclusion any women that could not see what a good catch the DI was, and committed adultery on such a man of honor, well that women was an idiot unworthy of knowing the DI. Let alone share a living space with him.
John and Sherlock had yet to step foot inside the DI's house, they knew the address, sure Sherlock had hacked that information years ago, stored it in his mind palace and it finally was useful
"Do you gentleman need any help?" Sherlock and John turned to see two uniformed PCs. "Sergeant Donovan sent us." The shorter of the two stated professionally.
"Ah, to watch us. Make sure we don't nick anything of value." Sherlock growled irritably.
The younger officer looked a little shame faced. John rolled his eyes, really Donovan?
"Seems Wilson with forensics will be down shortly, he's going to fingerprint, so its best not to disturb anything, you know the forensics guys a touchy bunch." Trying to be polite about the situation, nice try. John thought annoyed.
"Must be an occupational requirement." John mumbled. "Well anyway, we are in this together than. John Watson and Mister Sherlock Holmes." Both younger men looked at the thin detective with a sort of awe.
"I told you." The taller PC removed his hat, his ginger hair cut short to his head. "Didn't I tell you."
"Fine, the pint might be on me, but I'm not going to that old washed out Irish pub you like so much. We'll go somewhere proper."
"Gentleman if you're quiet through, my colleague and I will be looking around, try not to- as you say disturb anything." John had a flash of the young PC Smith and Howard, both were too young to die in such a way. These two young men were just around the same age themselves, the least John could do was learn their names, they nervously eyed Sherlock who shot off towards Lestrade's office area. John new his role, and he'd stay out of the way and playing it well.
"So boys, what are your names now?"
"Will you mention us in your blog?" the ginger haired PC asked excitedly, the other man just looked embarrassed removing his hat.
"Excuse my partner Doctor Watson, the names Frank Clarke, and this idiot is Henry Patterson." They both shook the doctor's hand.
"Well sir, seeing how you know what you're doing Patterson and I will make ourselves scarce, just holler if you need a hand." John could tell that he would like Clarke and Patterson they knew how to play the game. So he wasn't stuck distracting the two while Sherlock searched for god knows what.
"Anything?"
"No, checking his desk would be too obvious a place although, it seems someone already went through it. That would be too easy, we are missing something I'm sure."
Then loud bang a gunshot, towards the front of the house, making both men to flinch.
"Henry!" Clarke yelled out, John heard the fury in the younger mans voice, he knew it, the anger that fueled the adrenaline propelling a soldier forward when everything in him screamed to go back. That's when the second shot was heard, another crash sounded like a struggle. Sherlock checked the closet in the hall, quietly opening the door. John didn't know what he was looking for until he produced a 9mm from one of Lestrade nicer jackets. John wasn't going to ask how Sherlock knew where to look. Instead he watched his friend check the slide seeing it was full handed it to John, silently their eyes met.
Sherlock allowed John to go in front of him, instantly the transformation from ordinary doctor to soldier apparent in all his friends' movements. This never ceased to amaze Sherlock, John was quiet and moved low, he could see the cool mask of calm on Johns face, gone was the warmth and easy going man that most found familiar.
John could see the downed red haired officer, he wasn't moving, Clarke was a different story, Clarke definitely at a disadvantage in height and weight, threw himself at the unknown assailant dressed in all black, the dark haired PC had managed to disarm the bigger man, he threw his elbow up into the mans jaw, side stepping a blow meant for his ribs. John couldn't take the risk of hitting Clarke.
"Freeze!" John shouted in his booming Captains voice, both men looked up. Then Clarke felt it the knife at his throat, dammit how did he miss that?
"Throw it down Doctor."
"No!" Clarke growled, "Shoot him!"
"Do it Doctor and you might just hit little soldier boy here. Do us a favor."
"I know what you're looking for!" Sherlock growled from the hall.
"Do you now?" the other man nervously looked around. "Alright I'll trade you. His life for the photographs. And don't try to be clever detective. I'll know what phonies look like."
"Where's Greg!?" Sherlock demanded, John realized that was the first time he'd heard Sherlock call Lestrade Greg. The man in black laughed,
"Oh, he's been chatting with the boss. He said he hadn't said anything to his favorite little sniffer dogs but I see he lied. The boss will find this interesting. " Sherlock clasped his eyes shut, so Lestrade was alive.
"Shoot him John." Sherlock directed coolly, "Thanks for the information idiot." And John locked eyes with Clarke whose nostrils flared he panted from the struggle, a gash on his cheek and John without further hesitation exhaled and fired hitting the man in black directly in the shoulder right above the shorter Clarke. The force and shock caused the taller man to drop his knife and fall back. John kept his weapon trained on the would be assassin.
"John!" Sherlock called out, "This officer needs medical attention. I'll watch him." John nodded moving to hand the gun to Sherlock instead the consulting detective sent a hard kick to the side of the mans head, causing him to go lax, Sherlock then took the handcuffs he'd found on the floor of Greg's living room and having no care for the bleeding shoulder he cuffed the mans hands behind his back, no mercy for a cop killer.
John smiled "That'll work." Then went to the downed young officer, "Looks like the coward hit him from behind." John frowned the side of the kids head had a pretty good gash, "He'll have one hell of a headache. He's lucky." John exhaled, "He wasn't shot." Clarke had a look of relief,
"Well just a hit to the head, we'll that wont damage much."
"Where's the other two PC's."
Clarke frowned, "They were relived as soon as we showed up. Odd seeing those two at a B&E."
"Why's that?" Sherlock had called Sally but no answer; the younger PC took a deep breath,
"My radio was smashed in the fight could you call the police? And an Ambulance." John returned with a cool rag, and some ice. "One minute we were heading to the front of the house so to be out of the way I thought I heard something from the kitchen, Henry was chatting like an idiot and I moved to find the back door open, when we first arrived there were no open doors or windows, at least that's what the uniforms outside told us. That's when I realized Henry wasn't talking, and he always is talking. I moved to see him on the floor and that guy with a gun aimed at him. He was going to shoot him, while he was down, in the back. " There was the anger again, " I shouted Henry's name, I startled that bastard I thought he'd killed Henry, then he aimed at me, I ran for him and he missed.
"You did good. A little crazy and dangerous that-but good."
"I knew you two where in the back of the house I hoped you'd hear the commotion and at least help out. I just needed to buy time. Besides this idiot and I have been stuck at the hip since I got out of the academy. Oh, by the way, nice shot sir." The younger man shakily offered his hand. "damn nice shot." John reluctantly took it.
"Yes Yes, John is an excellent shot, better than most soldiers I hear. And damn better than any doctor I've ever met. That aside, what did you mean by seeing those two PC's as unusual, quickly." Clarke snapped to attention, keeping his the cold rag and ice against the back of his friends head, the doctor had turned the unconscious officer over gently to check for any other injuries.
"Sorry sir. Those two arrogant twats, excuse my language don't usually work B&E, even though it is DI Lestrade's house they should not have been sent here. They work on day shift for the organized crime unit." Sherlock frowned his mind started turning.
"Do you recognize that man over there?" Sherlock asked.
"No, never seen him in my life, the bastard." Clarke shot murderous daggers at the other man. The sound of nearing sirens, Sherlock stood now "John we should go. We need to speak to Sally and find out what Anderson found on those bullets. Oh, Clarke is it?"
"Yes sir. Best not to mention the gun."
"Yes sir, it seems during the struggle he was shot, I don't know where the gun has gone too, it's not like they aren't used to evidence disappearing." Sherlock froze in his tracks.
"What was that?"
"Sorry that was inappropriate of me to say or even joke about-I just meant-"
"No, you said it was a common thing. Explain." Clarke sighed he hated being a snitch but he and Henry had been stuck working the evidence room, they'd barely put them on patrol gave two other lackeys the job. But before they were promoted out of the purgatory of the evidence lockers he'd noticed several items were not where they should be and there was no check out on the logs. So when he brought it to the captains attention he said he'd look into it.
"What was missing?"
"Well the most noticeable was a double edge hunting knife, another was a gun, a 9mm with a silencer and hair pin trigger. Other things but mostly misplaced jewelry or even money."
"Do you know the cases the weapons were evidence in?"
"Yes sir, that's how I noticed they were missing, they were weapons used in two different murders. But when the case was closed due to signed uncontested confessions no one seemed to care about the misplaced items."
"Who would have access to such things?"
"What the hell happened here?" DI Dimmock looked around the mess, he'd never been in DI Lestrade's residence, the place was torn apart, "Oh great why am I not surprised" Sherlock and John stood up recognizing the DI from prior cases. His men started moving over the area, medics were taking Henry off , Clarke tried to follow only halted to give a report. John could feel his pain as he watched his friend loaded into the ambulance.
"DI we were just leaving." Sherlock gave a false smile used for situations where social etiquette called for a smile. This not being the time, Sherlock just came off irritating and smug.
"Yes. I can see that. Now leave the real police work up to the professionals" he growled. Then under his breath, "Don't you have a DI to find?" Sherlock caught how Dimmock shot a nervous look over his shoulder, there were two older looking detectives entering the scene, declaring it their case now. John and Sherlock ducked out before the suits, obviously some hire ups, could question them.
Standing out on the street Sherlock started at a quick pace. "We are looking for pictures. But of what?" His phone rang now, Sherlock didn't recognize the number, "Sherlock Holmes."
"Sir, its Clarke." The man sounded like he was at a whisper, "DI Dimmock gave me this number to call."
"Well spit it out then." Sherlock impatient as ever.
"Overheard the big wigs, seems DI Lestrade's been reported missing and the police have two suspects."
"Oh, how very predictable, well its not like John and I have ever not been suspects-"
"Not you sir, they are sending uniforms to collect Sergeant Donovan and forensics officer Anderson."