The New Watson

A Case To Be Solved

The phone on the coffee table rang again.  Sherlock was concentrating, trying to block the noise.  It silenced for the second time.  He settled more comfortably in the couch.  But it wasn't long until the phone went off again, filling his entire mind palace with the incessant noise.  He angrily picked it up and checked who it was.  The screen was labeled:

Call From: Those Idiot Police Again

Answer                            Reject

Lestrade.  What did he want now?  Sherlock clicked the answer button and got up to get a nicotine patch.  

"What is it?" he spat.

"Sherlock, we've got a case for you.  A good one."

"A tricky case?  A clever case?"

"Well, yes.  We don't have enough evidence ourselves, but maybe you could come take a look."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because, I don't know.  Aren't you bored or something?"

There was a pause.  Sherlock was bored, but he wasn''t convinced.

"It's a murder," sounded Lestrade's voice on the other side of the line.

"A murder?"  Sherlock thought.  Eventually, he consented.  "Alright, I'm in.  Address?"

"Jury's Inn. Watford.  Room 412.  Come quick."

Sherlock hung up the phone and called a different number.  The phone rang a couple times as he grabbed his coat and scarf and ran down the stairs.

"Going out, Mrs. Hudson!" he called over his shoulder.

"Don't get into too much trouble dear!" she hollered back. 

The other line picked up.

"Hello?  Sherlock?"

"Yes, hello, John.  I need your help.  I've got a case for us, a murder.  The game is on!"

Sherlock waved and entered the cab nearest him.  He told the cabbie the address quietly.

"Sherlock..."

"Good.  Thanks.  Jury's Inn.  Watford.  Room 412.  Lestrade's already there."

Sherlock's best friend sighed.  "Alright, fine, ok, good... I'll be there then."

Right before Sherock hung up, he heard John call him back to the call.

"Mary says hi, by the way."

"Oh, yes, well, say hi back.  Thank you.  Goodbye."

The line went off at Sherlock's command.

The next few minutes of the drive were spent in silence.  Then it pulled up to the hotel.  Sherlock paid the cabbie and walked into the lobby.  The place was in choas.  The people were scampering about and being all confused.  The police were running around trying to calm them and also trying to contain them.  No one seemed to know what was going on.  It all made Sherlock anxious to see the crime scene upstairs.  John came running in the doors as Sherlock reached the stairs.  He came to his mate quickly.  Sherlock noticed that he had his gun with him, hiding.  

"So, a murder?  You like those."

Sherock didn't know how to reply, so he simply ran up the stairs, with John close behind, just like the old times.  The next levels of the hotel were different from the ornate lobby.  The paint on the walls was a dull tan colour, and the doors were standard.  Sherlock walked into room 412 and started analyzing immediately.  The chair and table had been moved, and the table had been flipped.  The bathroom had water splashed everywhere.  The sink faucet was still running.  Obviously, someone had come in here to attack the murder victim, a middle-aged woman laying on the floor.  She wore a black business suit.  Her arms were at awkward angles.  So the murderer came in here, and may have caught her washing her hands in the bathroom.  Sherlock got down by the victim and felt her hands.  They were very wet.  She hadn't even had time to dry them.