Sherlock: The Monuments of the Heart
Chapter 2
"Promise you won't get carried away with this plan of yours Sherlock. Remember the last battle game plan you had, your disguise almost became your undoing, when you got the two of us caught up in the middle of a street race. You put Lestrade in a difficult position." John warns him, not to repeat the same actions as he did last time.
Central London 10 months ago. Shortly after two police patrol cars had arrived at the scene of an illegal street racing circuit. Greg Lestrade having just shown up, is now busy making sure a few young adults are being rounded up, ones who have deliberately broken their ASBOs. While he was arresting one troublemaker and had began to recognize one very familiar face, who was suspiciously lurking around behind one of the patrol cars. He looked closely at the face of this person and it dawned upon him the identity was someone he knew too well. "I'm arresting you on the...Sher..."
"So this is what you meant on his blog by 'Well confirmation will happen soon enough, on proving that the rules of streetcar racing are as boring as watching a non league football match'. So why are you both here really?" Greg asks John.
"Myself and Sherlock were both asked to keep an eye on the son of one of Sherlock's neighbours. The father George, in the last year has returned from serving a prison sentence in Pentonville prison. Yet the mother, Katherine believes their family is still being targeted by a former associate of George's. The only name she gave us was 'Rodriguez'."
"Michael Rodriguez? We've got surveillance on him at the moment. Leave it to me and my team, to deal with him and just concentrate on making sure George's lad doesn't get too cocky with illegally racing street cars."
"I have no intention of becoming his bodyguard and let's face it, I'm not exactly a favourite neighbour of his."
Two weeks earlier: Mid-morning, two 18 year old lads are chatting outside 221B Baker Street, one is holding a football in his right hand and the other lad is playing around with his smartphone, taking photos, annoying people walking past and customers and staff in Speedy's sandwich bar/cafe. Sherlock leaves Baker Street alone and isn't best pleased to see these two misbehaving.
"Your mate's blog is really, really boring. Nah I'd rather read a better blog than his. As for you Sherlock, I don't want your followers see in you." George's lad, decided to be as rude as possible, in order to impress his friend.
Unfortunately his careless attitude didn't quite make him look cool nor smart, seeing as Sherlock had instantly seen through what the young man was hoping to achieve - embarrass him first and then goad the Consulting Detective into punching him.
"Acting like a bully in front of your friend, won't exactly earn you the respect you're craving. Now go and play some Pokemon Go, perhaps your intelligence will be restored, from playing that on your smartphone." The friend standing behind him, started laughing and agreeing with Sherlock's comments.
The neighbour's son clearly didn't like the fact, Sherlock had outsmarted him.
"Well, you certainly have your way of putting people in their place Sherlock, I'll give you that." Lestrade suggested, with a chuckle.
"Yes with words, the best weapon of all, to turn the tables on someone." Sherlock hints.
The last of the day's sunlight shone through the flat's living room window, while Sherlock was taking, what felt like forever in his bedroom to decide on which clothes he would wear for his latest mission.
Fireman's uniform - "How the hell did i come to own this?" Chef's uniform...a definite no.
"Sherlock wouldn't a security guard uniform, be a suitable choice for you? Let's not forget you're only intending to gain access to Lawrence Barnes' office, so you can search around for any clues, that suggests he could have been...say being blackmailed."
"John, I'm a high functioning sociopath, I'm quite capable of knowing how I'm going to go into battle against new enemies, if necessary." Sherlock was brimming with absolute pure confidence - the best of it since before he discovered he had a sister.
"Just don't slip up and get caught up in some sort of trap, which we might end up finding ourselves in." Having learned from past cases, John hoped they weren't going to find themselves being confronted by villainous gunmen.
"It would be unlikely, for the person who killed Lawrence and then attacked Peter, for them to make the mistake of revealing themselves to us. Unless foul play was to blame and this person is doing whatever it takes to conceal their crime. A clever, very clever thing for them to do. Yet easy for someone like me, to unmask their identity."
"Hang on a minute, I thought we had already established the possibility of there being two people involved in this murder?"
"Yes, that's still a strong possibility John. Perhaps for the 2nd person, jealously played a vital part in what happened or poor Lawrence found himself paying the price with a fatal blow to the head by a colleague, someone who he had double-crossed during a confrontation of sorts."
"You've really got all of this thought out, haven't you Sherlock? Even without no clue as to where the location of Lawrence's body may currently be. I think this is a first for you, even Mycroft would be intrigued by your latest theories."
Sherlock flashed a huge grin at John and then turned to take one last look at the clothes, which were laid out on the bed before him. One uniform which had only just caught his attention, happened to be a high-visibility jacket - one he hadn't worn for a few years.
xxx
The two returned to the Hammersmith venue later that evening. Sherlock; wearing a dark blue duffel coat, having successfully convinced a bumbling office worker he was there to do last minute security checks in the office, was now accessing Lawrence Barnes' office. Of course he certainly didn't waste any time, in looking for clues.
Straight away upon stepping foot inside this office, something registered with Sherlock about it. How this office certainly belonged to a businessman who over the years has managed to develop a typical, irritating obsession for showing off his many accomplishments - wall mounted framed certificates and decorations, such as indoor fancy plant pots and a framed holiday photo of Lawrence Barnes and a woman, presumably his wife, happily standing on the pitch at the Nou Camp Stadium. John walked in, while Sherlock concentrated on viewing the many photos in this office.
"So what are you thinking? He enjoyed behaving like an introvert, treating his job and life as if it were Groundhog Day for him."
"You seriously don't believe this man could have been an introvert? Look around you John, the evidence is staring us both right in the face. Take that picture over there of Lawrence Barnes..." Sherlock points to where the desk, to show John where to look. "does that seriously tell you, this man likes to stick to the same regular routine, 9am - 5pm, every day of the week. No, it tells you, he's an extroverted entrepreneur. A man who I'm to assume.. enjoys his wealth and cherishes lying on some beach in the Mediterranean or the Caribbean more than working 7 days a week." Sherlock suggests while taking a look at a photo placed at the desk. The photo was of two men, Lawrence with someone who looked remarkably like him, as if he were his doppelganger.
He retrieves the photo and then holds it up to show John, his way of explaining furthermore what he means by his comment.
"Now that's quite a plot twist of it's own." John agrees. "So is there anything else you would like to look for while we're here?" He isn't sure why he asked this question to his friend because he's already convinced himself about the answer Sherlock will likely provide him with, would obviously be yet another one of his most predictable answers.
"I know what you're thinking John, time for us both to leave this place untouched, as if no one has even entered it. Not quite yet. As you pretty much know I made one or two mistakes when taking on Culverton Smith. So now I'm treating every bit of evidence as thoroughly as possible, making sure I don't miss the giveaway clue that solves a case like this."
"Unbelievable" John whispers quietly. Sherlock shot him a 'Don't let your frustrations lower your IQ' look.
After 30 minutes, it became apparent no significant item of such, in this too-well-organised office wished to present itself as potential evidence. Sherlock realised he was getting too obsessed with correcting a few of his own silly mistakes. So he finally gave up on finding any more clues that night and chose to leave, John followed behind him. The two were suddenly stopped in their tracks, by the sound of John's phone ringing loudly.
The GP shoved his right hand inside the pockets of his jacket, to find his phone. "Spongebob Squarepants really...John."
"Well Rosie likes it." John chuckles, he's not ashamed to admit he has a children's tv show theme tune as his ringtone. He thinks Sherlock is just saying this because Mary once sweet-talked him into watching a couple of episodes while being on babysitting duty one night, a few months ago.
"Hello Molly..." John says, as soon as he answers his phone. Sherlock's reaction changes when he hears her name being mentioned. "Oh right. Thanks for letting us know. We'll meet you there..." He checked the time on his watch - which read 9:15pm. "In about 15 minutes."
"So what did Molly say?" Sherlock asks. He looked rather keen and anxious enough to find out.
"Lawrence Barnes' body was bought into the morgue 45 minutes ago. She thought we should know this because Lestrade emailed her to let her know, this case belonged to us. I thought Lestrade wasn't keen on investigating this case."
"Maybe Peter's been playing detective himself. He didn't look satisfied with what we told him yesterday. It's more than likely he couldn't let this matter rest. So visiting the police station and asking to see Geoff again, believing he might get somewhere, by making one last plea for him to listen to what he had to say about him being attacked."
"Geoff?" Oh no. His knack of remembering Lestrade's first name, out of nowhere had let him down again.
"Oh Greg, isn't it?" Sherlock's more than happy to acknowledge this slight name mistake he made. Strangely he did feel butterflies in the pit of stomach because of the thought of seeing Molly. Of course he wasn't considering the possibility of confessing this very feeling to John.
"And here was me thinking his name had permanently clicked in your mind." John happily jokes. Just as they were leaving the office and then the building itself.
xxx
The body laid in the morgue at St. Bartholomew's Hospital and was now there to be viewed by Sherlock, John and Lestrade.
Lestrade read through some of the completed paperwork, he brought along with him. Once he read the info he needed to know regarding this new case, he addressed Sherlock and John. "Before you ask boys, yes everything Peter MacNair told me about the night he was attacked did make me feel curious and want to know more. So I suggested he came to see you two because I felt he needed to hear your deductions as soon as possible and then once he did, I had a hunch he would come back to see me. Ask me to investigate his claims."
"Why didn't you come to Baker Street to tell us this?" John asks him.
"I had a meeting with the Chief Superintendent to prepare for, for yesterday. I couldn't just drop everything for the sake of it and end myself in hot water. My job might have been on the line, if that had happened." Lestrade argues his case, it isn't the first time he's done this.
Molly entered the room, carrying a few items. Sherlock's eyes followed her around the room for a few minutes. The longer she didn't acknowledge his presence, the more he suspected, she was trying not to blush under his gaze or even say his name.
"So who exactly found him and where?"
"A man named James Valentine. He was walking his dog around lunchtime, through Elmstead Wood. The dog ran off on him, guessing his dog somehow picked up a scent from where the body was positioned. Wrapped up in a blanket apparently." Lestrade started to explain to them.
"He was there overnight." A lightbulb moment clicked in Sherlock's mind.
"12 hours?" Nothing looked conclusive or spot on about how long the body had remained in Elmstead Wood.
"No, 16 hours." Sherlock chips in with one interesting thought. The Consulting Detective is pretty sure of this actually being the case. Wanting to get to the bottom of this, he starts to carefully whiz through one or two clues in his mind, while pacing back and forth around the room. The knuckles on his right hand look different and there's no bruises on either legs nor arms nor face. Perhaps strangulation or even poison could eventually prove to be the cause of death.
"Sherlock's right." Molly confirms his guess. She looks extremely impressed. Well who could blame her? A few moments later the two of them exchanged a telling look between each other.
"Oh and one more thing we're not looking at Lawrence Barnes, we're looking at his twin brother. John, the photo in his office was of him and his twin on holiday together."
"Wait a minute, you broke into his office?" The Detective couldn't believe what he had just heard. The two men
"Lestrade, you being a detective. Surely seeing Sherlock dressed like a security guard, at least you would have been the first person in here, to question why he's currently dressed the way he is." John feels it's necessary to point this out.
"John I've had a lot on my plate. I haven't got time to play 'Name 5 Sherlock disguises.' Anyway, as your blog will probably get flooded with rants from your followers, if I arrested the both of you. I'm going to let you off...but if you go breaking into someone's office again, I'll have no choice but to arrest you."
"We won't...will we Sherlock? Sherlock?" John turns to ask his friend, only to annoyingly learn he isn't paying much attention.
"Have you got a name for any of his relatives, brother, sister, mother or father?"
"There's two brothers according to the records we've got on him, Brian and Paul. Parents died in a car crash when the brothers were 10, 12 & 15. If that isn't Lawrence Barnes, which brother is it then and why the hell did his wife confirm it was him?"
"She's already falsely made the identification?" John asked, with a genuinely surprised look.
"Yeah, half an hour ago. One of my DIs had to take her out of here, seeing as she looked quite upset. What with her having to identify her husband...who we now isn't him."
"Of course, she knew it wasn't him. They planned it together, although it was more likely to be her husband, wanting to be the brains behind the plan to pull of the perfect murder. It wouldn't surprise me, if talked her into, putting on the best performance on her life especially in front of you...Grah...Greg - by coming here to St Barts and deliberately identifying the wrong body."
"That's sick. To do that to your own flesh and blood." Molly voices her thoughts.
"Quite right Molly." Sherlock nods his head in agreement. Gazing over at her while he speaks, perhaps a bit longer than he expected to do so. It didn't take long for Greg and John to both see the very obvious yet awkward blossoming chemistry between their friends. The two men couldn't resist the urge to smile, while Sherlock's back was turned.
"Is there an address for Mrs Barnes or a workplace where we can speak to her?" Sherlock asks. Although he knows his eyes aren't what you would say 'at the back of one's head' but he's absolutely certain of what was currently occurring behind his back and he didn't agree with it one single bit - as a matter of fact, it was putting him off from thinking.
"Well..." Knowing he might end up facing a barrage of disapproving looks from the man who he had known for almost 10 years, Greg dropped the smile instantly and got straight back to doing some decent detective work, by rechecking the paperwork he had with him.
"the only one I've got written down is...Celtic Avenue. It's a 15 minutes drive away from here. Is this your way of telling me, you wish to speak to her tonight? I mean it's getting pretty late." Greg points out. Tiredness is clearly visible in his body language, Sherlock detects this forthwith.
"Oh alright, first thing tomorrow morning then. Celtic Avenue 8am. The game is afoot." After a minute or two of silent pauses between the three men, John whose face was scrunched in frustration, decided to step on his friend's toe, to get him to rethink his original words.
Thankfully John's silent intervention on the conversation does the trick, even if it made Sherlock feel he had derailed the role, which he had only just started for himself right there and then. Such a moment spoiler
"Right I'll see you two tomorrow. Night Molly." Greg chooses to head home for the night and bids everyone goodnight. Sherlock, John and Molly remained in the morgue together. John thought Sherlock should return back to Baker Street, he deserved an early night's rest.
"Sherlock are you coming or not?" John asks, as he's holding the door open. Sherlock is desperate to speak to Molly alone but feels now isn't the right time. He nods and then walks towards the doorway, he glances over at her thoughtfully. His mind abuzz with many thoughts.
"I'd like the two of us to catch up sometime, if it's possible. Night Molly." Sherlock said before leaving with John.
xxxx
"It's called having a heart-to-heart Sherlock, not having a catch up. Honestly you need to get out more and by that, I do not mean solving murders, kidnappings, robberies and online crimes. She's clearly in love with you and you seem to be giving the impression, that you're giving her hope of a future relationship with her. For once Sherlock, please don't go breaking her heart, by coming out with another one of your uncomfortable deductions."
"Kind of you to show a certain interest in my non-existent love life...seeing as that's what it feels like for me at this very moment, John. Molly is and always will remain an important priority to me but right now the game is very much on for us." Sherlock insists, he's got things under control.
Greg's keeping them waiting, he's running 15 minutes late. Trust a detective of his stature, not show up precisely on time, as arranged.
"The problem with oversleeping is, it's used as a detective's way of telling someone, they think you do a better job than them - You make a start and I'll be along later to check what progress you've made."
"As if Greg's worried you're taking too much credit for solving most of his cases. I do credit him in the blog. He's known as 'the Fancied Charmer' because you know of the...silver fox look he has..."
Lestrade quietly sneaks into the flat and walks up behind John, before announcing his presence. "Gentlemen! My ears have been burning, meaning you two have been speaking about me."
"Yes but not all the time. Besides you're the hot topic of conversation on John's blog, among every follower on there - presumably the female followers of course." Sherlock implies in a snarky manner.
"And what's that suppose to mean?" Greg isn't sure he likes the way, in which Sherlock is behaving but still manages to keep calm and professional while he's stood in the centre of the flat's living room.
"Well you do have a Ladies man look about you. One that says 'I'm all yours ladies' " Sherlock further hints. Greg is beginning to understand why Sherlock is behaving the way he is. Obviously he's annoyed him because he hadn't arrived on time like he promised at St Bart's last night.
"Let's get one thing clear, I'm not really in much of a mood to be playing referee here between the pair of you. Either you sort out your differences, otherwise I will end going downstairs to inform Mrs Hudson and she will no doubt be dealing with the both of you, with a bloody good telling off."
"Mrs Hudson's telling offs a rather memorable Gregory. If you don't believe me... ask my brother, I'm sure he'll be able to verify my claim." Sherlock is having too much fun, winding Greg up. He knows his behaviour is making him look childish and smug but then again he just can't resist bringing up a few observational remarks. He notes, John isn't laughing like he usually does, maybe he's right.
"Anyway! Can we please try and get ourselves back on track and think between the three of us how we can get a full confession from Lawrence's wife, even Lawrence himself if he happens to be hiding in the loft or in the basement." For the first time ever, from nowhere Greg had put his brain into gear before putting his mouth into motion and finally saying something helpful.
Even Sherlock had a look of 'You've just taken the words right out of my mouth and now I have absolutely no idea what I want to say in response' about him. His eyes narrowed, his hands gripped the arms on his armchair, as he looked away from John and Greg, for a matter of moments.
"Sherlock?" John's left to wonder why his friend has assigned himself with doing 'the silent treatment'. "You know I didn't mean to raise my voice, if that's why you're ignoring me."
"Who says I'm ignoring you?..." He jumps to his feet and strolls over to where Greg is standing, who remained completely oblivious to how significant his comments had become, in revitalizing Sherlock's train of thoughts. "You're not as clueless as I first assumed you were. Lawrence Barnes' biggest weakness is his wife and she will not want to carry their secret, the fact that they both killed his twin brother and attacked Peter MacNair, to her grave."
"Well instead of us going round in circles, taking too much time speculating. My suggestion is why don't we do what we do best, by getting off our arses and go visit Mrs Barnes and ask her, whose idea it was for her to lie at the morgue last night." John was in full motivational mood.
As ever the effect of John's 'kick up the arse' comments were as, pushy and a bit much. Still Sherlock was happy to retrieve his coat from the coat hangar and head off to the address they had for Lawrence's wife.
xxxx
Upon arriving in Celtic Avenue, Sherlock was currently having to tolerate three children, around at least 5 years old, who were pulling faces at him on the other side of the road, while he was stuck sitting in the back seat of Greg's car. Surprisingly he opted to do the right thing, by turning a blind eye to them and try to focus his eyes elsewhere. He knows he doesn't want to get himself in John's bad books by behaving irresponsibly again.
Greg radioed for the backup team; Anderson and Donovan were responsible for heading the team, for them to make sure they parked at the corner of the street, out of sight and to make sure not to draw attention to themselves in the meantime because it would likely raise suspicion with anyone connected to Mr and Mrs Barnes.
"Terrific...talk about waiting for the perfect moment to catch our suspects." John cannot believe they haven't been allowed to get out of the car and to go knock at the door." He wasn't the only one, Sherlock is asking the same question too in his mind.
"We can't just go marching yet. There's every chance Mrs Barnes will try to stay one step ahead of us, by doing a runner before we get to search the house" Greg owns up an admits why he doesn't want them to make a mistake by going in too quickly. Before he had the opportunity to reveal more details, a Ford Fiesta pulled up outside the house they believed in which Lawrence's wife lived.
The person who got out of the Ford Fiesta was in fact, Lawrence's wife and she didn't appear to acting like a grieving widow, she was smiling and laughing, while chatting to someone on her phone.
"Well and truly busted." John said.
"I couldn't agree more." Greg backed him up straight away.
Meanwhile, Sherlock fed up of this latest pointless delay, has had enough and gets out of the car, runs over towards Lawrence's wife. She's startled as soon as she's aware of him watching her like an eagle.
"Yes can I help you? or are you gonna stand there gawping at me like you're some demented weirdo with a crush." She wonders what's the deal with him, he hadn't introduced himself or even tried to make the effort of apologizing to her, for making her jump with fright.
"You are Lawrence Barnes' wife am I to presume, yes? You visited the morgue at St Bart's last night, to identify the body of your husband...only it wasn't actually your husband...it was his twin brother. I think that's the truth you're so confident of getting away with."
"What in god's name, why would you even say that? You awful man..." Her mood changes like a thunderbolt and she soon resorts to playing the victim again, this time by accusing Sherlock of harassing her.
"You're obviously a terrible liar and someone who wouldn't win in a popularity contest either. The truth is eating you up inside and you're doing whatever you can...to protect the man you love."
"Either you leave me alone or I will call the police and make sure you're arrested." She shouts, feigning disbelief at the accusations being thrown at her especially in a public street.
Greg eventually puts in an appearance as does John, standing alongside Sherlock. "I am the police, Mrs Barnes. You've got a lot of explaining to do to us."
End of Chapter
All Reviews are welcome
Truths will be told...not quite all of them though.