MAJORITY OF EVIDENCE IN HOLMES CASE FABRICATED, SOURCES SAY
Investigators were perplexed this morning to discover that much of their evidence against Sherlock Holmes in what many are calling the most complicated case of the decade has been deemed fraudulent, or is just plain missing.
"We'd double and triple-checked those files," said Investigator Gregson to our reporters this afternoon. "We have our copies saved and printed out in files, they existed not two days ago. We validated the evidence when the trials first started. And now they're gone."
The files in question are pieces of evidence crucial to the case against amateur detective and online sensation Sherlock Holmes, who was convicted early last month of kidnapping the children of the US Ambassador. Examples of fraudulent evidence include video footage of a bus station two blocks from the childrens' private school the night of the kidnapping which clearly portray a tall man in a long black coat, text message correspondence between Sherlock Holmes and Richard Brook, and several hotel bills.
Evidence of fraudulent evidence include any personal documents or professional information on Richard Brook, who accused Holmes of paying him to portray the character of James Moriarty, who broke into three of England's most secure buildings earlier this year. His birth certificate, medical record, and filmography appear to have no verity.
"A few police men came into my hospital not too long ago," says a receptionist in an unidentified hospital. "Saying they need to see the original copy of this Richard Brook's birth certificate again. And I said, 'Again?' because no one had come to see me about any birth certificates for about six months now. I asked them who gave them access into the records room, and the name they gave has never worked here."
While for some this is strong evidence against Richard Brook, others are quick to point out the convenience in the timing.
"It's all a little suspect, if you ask me," says a junior officer of the Metropolitan Police, who asked to remain unnamed but is taking part in the investigation. "All of Brook's evidence is suddenly fake? His birth certificate doesn't exist? It just seems like someone did too good of a job."
Both Brook and Holmes are set to testify this afternoon at the last trial Holmes will face before sentencing. The whole trial will be filmed and the highlights and verdict announced at 10pm.
A gavel sounding, echoing thrice into the courtroom.
Everyone stands.
The man in the white wig walks in.
Boring Formalities.
Sherlock was bored of every single face here- he'd seen them for what felt like every day for a year, but was really every week for a month, for twenty eight hours total.
He was sick and tired of trials. The stupid questions, the even more stupid answers- no one knew where to look. No one asked questions that actually led anywhere. Justice was just a grand, dressed-up argument and everyone knew it.
He was angry, right and proper livid, at the fact that Mycroft had gotten involved in this case and exposed the fraudulent evidence (because it had to be Mycroft, it wasn't his style and he wasn't that sloppy but it must have been him, the alternative was too unreal, too impossible, too- scary)
He wanted to go home. But he wasn't about to tell you that.
The room was worse than usual- it was crammed with people he knew, people that knew him, international television crews, interested parties. It was hot and stuffy; there was a thin line of sweat forming at the base of his hairline and while he felt uncomfortable in his suit jacket, he wouldn't take it off. He was too busy to pay attention to things like body temperature.
Moriarty's Lawyer is supposed to stand up to the court to open the trial- she's supposed to be wearing a tight skirt and higher heels than her arches are used to- she's supposed to wobble just once as she stands, regaining her posture before anyone else notices that she's not actually a lawyer. Sherlock, however, has known since twenty three minutes into the first trial after he observed the way she tied her pony tail.
She is supposed to, but she won't.
Because she's not there.
The judge calls out to her formally three times before he beckons for a police officer, who then leaves the room in search of the woman in question, a telephone, anything that will bring forth the lawyer.
Twenty minutes later, he comes back, whispers something to the judge. Sherlock knows what's happened before it's even announced, but he's not the only one. It's written all over the man's face, so it's a surprise to no one when he clears his throat and leans towards the microphone-
"Richard Brook and his lawyer seem to be missing from the-"
Even the speakers were drowned out by the murmurs of the packed room. It took several hits of the gavel to return peace to the courtroom, however tense.
"As we hold Mr. Brook and his representative in contempt, we will continue with Mr. Holmes' testimony. A representative of the State will question in lieu of Mr. Brook's lawyer."
Sherlock stood easily, taking measured steps from where he sat to where he would be seated, facing the judge and jury. He tried-and failed- not to remember the last time he'd done this, how he'd gone against John's request to 'be not himself,' how he watched the other man fix his tie in the mirror at Baker Street instead of feeling nervous. He closed his eyes for a few long moments to block out any stimuli, and decided there were few better ways to honour John's memory than to blatantly disregard his wishes once more.
Mr Petersburg was a small, balding man in his late fifties with marriage trouble that were most likely caused by his hugely overconfident opinion of himself-
"Mr. Holmes, would you like to explain to us why you hired Mr. Brook?"
- He had read John's blog and became personally offended at the idea that anyone could become that good at observation without any real training, and therefore when he heard that Sherlock Holmes was a fraud it was more out of personal victory than a clear-minded observation of the facts that he'd believed it.
"I can assure you, I did not hire a Mr. Brook, because Richard Brook does not exist. James Moriarty's clever alias- an anglicised version of Reichenbach, the paintings that launched me into fame not six months ago."
"Clever, is it?"
"Don't you think it's clever? He didn't think you'd catch it. Any of you, I mean. The public. I guess he was right."
"Mr. Holmes, do you always insult people who are trying to help you?"
"With all due respect, sir, your Windsor Knot says otherwise."
Sherlock took a deep breath. Those that knew him in the audience prepared for the worst. Molly, in a beautiful floral dress she'd been saving for a date, swore just loudly enough for those around to look at her in surprise. Mrs. Hudson, wearing her old engagement ring (that she only brings out for games of bridge and when she buys Lotto tickets), bit her lip, shaking her head worriedly. Lestrade scowled, knowing that it had only been a matter of time. Sitting alone, Sally Donovan closed her eyes, hoping that maybe it wouldn't be too bad.
"Excuse me?"
"Your tie is tied in a full Windsor, but messily so. You're an older man, a man of habit and refusal to change- conservative voter, always has been except for once in… '87? No, of course not, '92. You've been tying your tie in this manner for a long time but you still can't get it right- there are still wrinkles in the fabric where you've tried and failed. Why would you dare wear your tie like that-in front of national television, no less? Must be illusions of grandeur. You think you deserve a better style of tie than you can actually achieve- you think you're superior. But you've earned it- there's not a day in your life that you haven't worked for it. Low grades all throughout school, almost failed your exams- oh, you did fail, didn't you? But you studied, you kept on, and you passed them the second time around. And God knows you've paid your dues to the machine, haven't you? Working your way to the top from the dregs. You've never taken a bribe, and you're proud of that- you throw it around at parties a lot when you've had too much to drink- but the truth is you've never been offered one, no one wants anything from you. It took you over thirty years to pay off your schooling debts. And so someone like me must really irk you- I've never had to work for a thing in my life, it comes so easy for me, doesn't it? It's not a bias that any questionnaire could unearth, but it's still a bias. You want to see me fail. Nothing would make you happier than for me to be found out a fraud. Is that true?"
The room stood still while the two men stared at each other for a long moment, willing the other to blink first. In the end, Petersburg folded.
"You looked me up."
"A normal reaction, but no, Mr. Petersburg, I did not. Almost everything I said was from an observation of your tie, though I did help myself to a bit of extra data from the polish of your shoes and your obvious heart condition. I could continue, if you like- maybe with the state of your wedding ring or the cuffs of your dress shirt-"
The judge intervened.
"Mr. Holmes, this case is about your involvement in over thirty separate criminal cases, not Mr. Petersburg's… dress shirt. Please, stay on topic."
"This is on topic. This is the only piece of evidence that you should be looking at."
"And what is that, Mr. Holmes?"
"I had no previous knowledge of Mr. Petersburg. I didn't know that Jim Moriarty and his lawyer-"
"Otherwise known as Richard Brook-"
"-Would be missing from the case. And even if I did, I would have no idea that it would be Mr. Petersburg that would fill in her spot, or that it would even be your decision to continue the trial. What I deduced I observed in mere seconds from the evidence at hand, as I did in all of the cases multiple Detective Inspectors have asked me to assist in. That is all that I do. I am not a fraud, no matter what Jim Moriarty would have you believe."
The judge gave him a stern look, asking Mr. Petersburg to continue.
With pleasure, the man said.
"When did you first meet Richard Brook?"
"I first met Richard Brook when I was running from the police over four weeks ago. He was in Kitty Riley's house, after he had given her a story just scandalous enough for her to shoot to the headlines of her newspaper."
"You never saw him before that?"
"Before that I knew him as James Moriarty. Afterward, as well."
"When did you last see James Moriarty?"
"The day I was arrested, exactly one month ago. He was on the rooftop of St. Bart's with me."
"No one saw another person on the rooftop with you."
"Well, they wouldn't, would they. He wouldn't make that mistake."
"What was he on the rooftop for?"
"He was making sure his plan was exacted sufficiently."
"And what plan was that?"
"The murder of Dr. John Watson."
He blinked once. Breathed at exactly the average rate.
"Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson jumped from a building. It was suicide. Every eyewitness accounted for only one body on that rooftop."
"I don't think you understand what I am trying to explain to you."
"Why did Dr. Watson kill himself, Mr. Holmes? You were very close to him-"
"- He wouldn't have without an external force-"
"- You know what I think? I think it's heartbreaking. He gave so much to you and your life, that when he found out that you were a fraud he couldn't take it. He was horrified at what you'd taken from him. He was a decorated war hero before he met you, and you took that title from him so he could be better known as your blogger. And this is what he had to show for it. And you know what, Mr. Holmes? I didn't have to look that up, either. That was my own little deduction."
He stared Sherlock hard in the face, taking a step backwards.
"I have no further questions."