The Silent Game
A Case of Silence
Going back into the living room again, she heard John speaking."…a single case. That's why the wall took a pounding."
"That and Rose's lessons." Sherlock agreed.
Rose sat on the sofa again, curling up as she had before. "Why, may I ask, did you tell your brother you were busy?" She asked Sherlock, curious to his reasons.
Sherlock just scratched the back of his head with the bow, looking around the room. "Why shouldn't I?" Rose smiled at the predictable answer.
"Oh." Said John, seeing the full picture now. "Nice. Sibling rivalry. Now we're getting somewhere."
Rose just kept on smiling, remembering the arguments she had had with her brothers in the past. "Oh, come on, John. We all have siblings here, all dealing with them in different ways, for different reasons." She had learned a lot about her flatmates sibling relations in her time at 221B.
She, of course, simply took to trying to get along with her siblings and when that didn't turn out quite right, she would fight fire with fire, giving just as good as she got in their little arguments.
John would sometimes ignore the calls he got off Harry, but when he did answer them, he usually ended the call in a bad mood, having had to deal with a drunken and depressed sister. Though Rose had found that the good natured doctor rarely fought back with his sister, knowing that it did no good.
Sherlock, who was far from normal by anyone's standards, seemed to be the most regular with his sibling, choosing to challenge and annoy him at every chance, while still caring - though he never showed it to anyone - and being cared for.
The man himself threw a light glare to his doctor friend, snappy retort in mind. However, just as he was about to, voice it, his phone started ringing. He quickly answered it, saying his name to the person on the other end of the line.
John and Rose shared a look as he spoke again. "Of course, how could I refuse?" He hung up the call, putting away the violin. "Rose, get your coat." As she did, he got his, turning to John. "Lestrade - I've been summoned. Coming?"
John looked between them. "If you want me to."
Rose just smirked, pocketing her cigarettes and lighter. "Of course."
Sherlock turned to him, Rose going over to stand by him. "I'd be lost without me blogger." Sherlock said, making both men smile, Rose's smirk grow a little more.
It would seem they had put the little tiff behind them.
The three of them went out into the street, walking past the police tape before hailing a cab, Rose's phone going off as they sat down. Once again, she answered it with out looking at the caller id.
"Hello?"
"Rose, thank god! Are you alright, we saw the news…" It was her uncle Andrew and she smiled at his needless concern.
She cut him off before he started rambling though. "I'm fine, uncle, just a little bruised. Nothing to worry about, really." She said, echoing the words she told John.
"Hmm…Well, at least call your mother. She's worried about you, you know." He said, changing the subject slightly, entering more uncomfortable waters.
Sherlock saw Rose bristle at something her uncle said, replying, "If she's so worried, she can call me herself. Besides, you've heard off me now, I'm sure you can tell her I'm just fine."
"Rose..." She heard him say. But she knew he was about to give her a lecture on how important family was, so she cut him off before he could start.
"I've got to go uncle, or I'll be late for work." She said in a tight voice.
She just heard him sigh in defeat. "Well, you know where I am, okay?"
"I know." She replied, wanting to hang up sooner rather than later.
But he just kept talking. "And Roy and I will be down soon to make sure everything is alright." She took it as a warning more than a comforting reminder.
"I remember. Really though, I've got to go." She said, looking out of the window. "See you soon, bye." With that she hung up before he could reply, knowing he could draw out the conversation for a few more minuets if he wanted to.
As she slipped her phone back into her pocket, she looked to the curious gaze of John, knowing Sherlock was probably listening as well. "Sorry about that."
"Don't worry." Assured John. "But you do know we have a good few minuets until we get to the yard, right?"
She just gave John a bright smile. "Oh, I know."
He just chuckled, turning to face the window again.
Walking through the offices, the three flatmates followed Lestrade to his office as he spoke. "You like the funny cases, don't you? The surprising ones."
"Obviously." Stated Sherlock, wondering why, after five years of working together, the DI was questioning this.
"You'll love this. That explosion…" Lestrade started, only to get interrupted.
"Gas leak, yes?" Sherlock asked.
"No." Denied the DI, Rose and John looking to each other while Sherlock frowned slightly.
"No?" The consultant asked as they passed Donavan, who looked up giving them a cold look. They paid no notice.
"No. Made to look like one though." Lestrade told them, going into his office.
"What?" Asked John, not quite understanding.
"Hardly anything left of the place, except for a strong box." Sherlock noticed a letter on the table. It was addressed to him. "A very strong box, and inside was this." He said, pointing to the letter.
"You haven't opened it?" Sherlock asked.
"It's addressed to you, isn't it?" Lestrade said obviously. "We've x-rayed it. It's not booby-trapped."
"How reassuring." Rose muttered, knowing that the best test to put the envelope under was to give it to the man it was addressed to.
He picked up the letter, starting to examine it before opening it. "Nice stationery." He complemented. "Bohemian." He held it under the light.
"What?" Asked Lestrade.
"From the Czech Republic. No finger prints?" Asked Sherlock, knowing the answer.
"No."
Rose went over to stand next to him, making sure to not get in the light. "Used a fountain pen." She chipped in.
"Yes, she did. Parker Duofold, Meridian nib." Out doing her by far. She didn't mind though - she knew he was better by miles and happily accepted the fact.
"She?" Questioned John, though Rose could see why Sherlock thought it.
"Obviously." Retorted Sherlock, not explaining any further.
"Obviously." Echoed John, looking a little annoyed at the lack of explanation.
Rose turned to him. "Female handwriting, John." She told him, getting a nod in return.
Sherlock took a sharp letter opener off the desk, slicing the envelope carefully, examining every detail of the action, from how the paper tore to how the dust particles came off. Looking inside, his face relaxed from its frowned expression, turning more into the usual one, letting his companions know that he had truly found a puzzle.
Pulling his hand out of the paper folds, John and Rose saw a touch screen phone in a bright pink case.
"That's the phone." John said in shock. "The pink phone."
Rose frowned, she must have missed that bit in the case. Lestrade however remembered it well. "From A Study In Pink?" He asked.
"Well, obviously it's not the same phone, but its supposed to look like…" Sherlock muttered, before realising who had spoken and what they had said. He turned to look at Lestrade incredulously. "Study In Pink, you read his blog?"
"Course I read his blog. We all do!" Said Lestrade obviously. "Do you really not know that the earth goes round the sun?" Donovan snickered in the corner, earning a glare from Rose. She quickly left again.
Sherlock turning his attention back to his work again. "It isn't the same phone. This one's brand new. Someone's gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like that same phone. Which means you blog has a far wider readership."
John looked down a little in embarrassment, but Sherlock just tapped the phone, making an automated female voice ring out in the office. "You have one new message." Following the voice were five Greenwich time signal pips, causing them all to frown in confusion.
"Ok... What was that about?" Rose asked. Sherlock ignored her though, so John spoke up.
"Is that it?"
"No, that's not it." Sherlock said, searching through the phone, finding a picture. Leaning in to get a better look, Rose's eye flew open at the picture.
"What in hell are we supposed to make of that?" Lestrade asked.
The picture showed a bathroom cabinet, wide open, completely empty, a thick lined drawing in the top right corner. The drawing was of a cobweb, drawn in what looked to be thick black marker pen. On the edge of the picture you could just make out the white paint of the walls.
Sherlock frowned as John spoke. "That could be anywhere!"
"No, it couldn't." Rose said quietly, eyes glued to the picture as three sets of male eyes snapped to hers. "It's my bathroom, that's my cabinet."
"It's yours?" Lestrade asked, a look of suspicion on his face.
She looked up to him and saw the look, giving a defensive huff. "It wasn't me, Lestrade. Why would I do this? If I wanted to talk to Sherlock, I could just do so - without blowing up half of my own street." Lestrade ignored the young woman however, looking to Sherlock.
"What's with the pips?" He asked the man, who looked like he had just been given a major clue in the case.
"It's a warning." He told them, gazing off into space.
"A warning?" John asked.
Sherlock turned to him. "Some secret societies used to send dried melon seeds, orange pips, things like that - five pips. They're warning us it's going to happen again. Come on!" He said, moving towards the door.
"Hang on." John said, him and Rose following close behind him, Lestrade a few feet behind. "What's going to happen again?" Sherlock spoke as he span in a circle, arms miming his single word.
"Boom!"