Chapter 22

Not wanting to cause any more gossip for those two "girls" that saw his clumsy moment (thankful it was only those two); he carefully hid his uneven painful gait as he went to share the finding of the interrogation. As if anyone could be even more slow-minded, the latest two suspects surpassed the expectation of it by far. One of the Three Stooges actually proved to be a half-decent criminal whilst the other two coward under the threat of an empty gun when NSY had the pleasure of meeting them. It was a most peculiar case, something just didn't match up right. It wasn't like any case he'd ever had. As he contemplated the complexity of the case, Sherlock overheard the final remnants of the conversation in Lestrade's office. He held his breath and walked with his heels off the ground.

"...I know it is Greg, so aggravating...we have to help him...Just have to..."

"How, John? We would all do anything for him...Keep his spirits up, well you know after that..."

He stopped short and pressed himself against the wall continuing to eavesdrop. His heart twisted in pain and anger with each word he heard.

This wasn't fair at all, I don't want this! If John is doing this then it makes it harder from him to leave Baker Street. Why can't he just leave me to be? I don't need his help. I refuse to be pitied or shunned. I've had enough of that during my lifetime, it disgusts me when people offer heartless comments or sympathies. If this is to be so then my last wish is to have my eyes stay vigilant just long enough to see the case closed. Literally.

"Of course. We should meet up with the ladies. They can help us think up useful ideas. Molly has been keeping Sherlock level with body parts experiments, but that idea is going up in a flame, literally. " John whispered so softly that the consulting detective strained to listen.

Sherlock couldn't hear Lestrade nod, but he sensed the elder man's response. Deep in his Mind Palace a mental note was made of this conversation, it would most likely be useful in the near future. Unfortunately. Dreadful business all of this was, but it wasn't the time to be selfish and think about only about his personal matters. There was a case before him, and he had to solve it before he couldn't work any more.

Well, could I still work? It might be possible, right? I must find a way. How? I suppose Lestrade, not John any more, could describe the crime scene to me. I could give it a go, but what if that doesn't work? Then what?! I will have nothing to keep my brain from rotting. Experiments are out of the question. Even though John complains about my experiments being hazardous and left all over the flat, they are actually indeed quite safe. Well, that is safe according to one with sight and able to put out the occasional accidental fire or clean up the corrosive chemical spills. What else would give me pleasure and keep my brain from rotting?

I swore I would never go back to drugs; I may not be gentlemanly all the time, but there are some aspects that I keep my words faithfully. Molly's disappointed look stung more than the stinging after she struck me realising my relapse into drugs, even if it was for a legitimate reason. Failure and disappointment hurts quick greatly. The pain can be much, and it won't go away quick like the pain felt on the skin. I needed Mangussen to "find" my pseudo-weakness. I'm so very sorry Molly Hooper. I will never disappoint you again. I promise on my life. Never again. You have always matter to me. Always.

I only hope I have enough time left to solve this case. It most likely will be the last one ever, after that I'm doomed and so is England. Pity on them. A nightmare for me. Thieves and murderers running rampant across the whole of United Kingdom, and no one can stop them-certainly not Scotland Yard!

FOCUS Sherlock! You're not completely blind yet! Don't be distract with sentimental rubbish, it takes away from the more important matters.

At any rate he wasn't in total darkness yet, so his focus would solely be on finding the Spider and destroying the Web. Those bumbling criminals were caught by NSY for suspicious activity. That alone said a lot. If those silly officers could manage that then the whole criminal operation could sway to the easy side of the spectrum and be dealt with quickly, or could go extremely poorly and cause a bigger mess of things. At present there were five people all convicted with the same charges for connections with The Spider.

During the interrogation with both NSY officers and Sherlock, each criminal pointed to a marking on their body; none of them would say a word about it, except repeat the word "Spider" over and over. The two newly arrested ones had a gruesomely vicious looking toad or lizard stained on their forearm in black, yellow, and red. Larry was branded with a vicious bright orange fang-baring snake curling up from his wrist to forearm. Curly had a scorpion imprinted at the nape of his neck in dark black with the stinger poised to attack. On Moe's ankle there was a brown centipede wound tightly around it. The head of the insect had large piercing red eyes looking up, so when looking at it, the creature would look back with an intense fury.

It didn't make sense to anyone, not even to Sherlock. What was so important about a marking and the word "Spider"? This didn't follow even remotely to the Black Lotus case; all its members who smuggled had the same marking. This group wasn't smuggling expensive goods, they were attempting to steal information.

Two of the markings were of the Reptilia family, and the other two were Insecta. The toad didn't belong in either of those groups. Was the Genus even important? Why would all five of the criminals show their markings and repeat the word "Spider"? They remained would either remain silent or just give a hard glare at the whitewashed wall. The behaviour of those men were so erratic; one minuet they would cower under the threats, and the next turn harder than stone.

The elusive Spider was using its flies for biding time in setting up the complex plot, and running off before the web could be destroyed.

A-N: Sorry for the gap in updating this story. I've had loads of coursework and I'm rehearsing for a performance this summer. It will be for a convention with people coming from all different countries. It's so much fun- just a lot of hard work. So much to do and so little time :(

In case you don't know how much I'm enthralled with Sherlock Holmes, be it known to all who read this chapter that I am writing my English paper on "A Scandal in Bohemia" focusing on how Sherlock Holmes reflects the Victorian Gentleman. None of it will be my own thoughts since I'm merely researching the topic and explaining it. A research paper. :D

Enjoy and leave a thought- even if it is just a few words. Thanks! :)