THE BAKER STREET TRIO (SHERLOCK X READER)

Chapter 56: The Lying Detective

Culverton Smith was playing them. He’d pounced on Sherlock’s serial killer accusation immediately, turning it into a business plan. He’d just launched a new line of kids’ cereal, called “Gnash!” The tag line, with a big picture of his face was “I’m a cereal killer!”

The millionaire paraded Sherlock and John around, pretending they had been in on it together the entire time. After the stop at the sound stage, they got back into the limo and headed to a hospital that had been entirely funded by Culverton Smith.

“Where are we going now?” Sherlock asked as they followed him down a corridor.

“I want to show you my favorite room.” Culverton said.

“No, let’s go in here.” Sherlock pushed open the door to a conference room.

An IV drip stood beside each chair.

“I see you’ve had another of your little meetings.” Sherlock said.

“Oh, it’s just a monthly top-up.” Culverton said. “Confession is good for the soul, provided you can delete it.”

“What’s TD-12?” John asked, examining one of the drips.

“It’s a memory inhibitor.” Sherlock said.

“Bliss.” Smith said.

“Bliss?” John asked.

“Opt-in ignorance. Makes the world go round.” Smith said. 

“Anyone ever opt to remember?” Sherlock asked.

“Some people take the drip out. Yes, some people have the same urges.” Smith said. “Now, come on. Wasting time.”

“Indeed you have, I estimate, twenty minutes left.” Sherlock said.

“Sorry?”

“I sent a text from your phone, remember? It was read almost immediately, factoring in a degree of shock, and emotional decision, and a journey time based on the associated address, I’d say your life as you know it has twenty minutes left to run.” Sherlock said. “Well, no. Seventeen and a half, to be precise, but I rounded up for dramatic effect. So please do show us your favorite room. It’ll give you a chance to say goodbye.”

Culverton Smith chuckled. “Come along.”

They got into an elevator and headed down.

“Speaking of serial killers, do you know who’s my favorite?” Culverton Smith asked.

“Other than yourself?” Sherlock said.

“H.H. Holmes.” Smith said. “Relative of yours?”

“Not as far as I know.” Sherlock said.

“You should check. What an idiot.” Smith said.

He pushed open the double doors to the morgue.

“Everyone out.” He ordered.

“Mr. Smith, we’re actually in the middle of something.” One of the doctors said.

“Saheed, isn’t it?” Smith said.

“Saheed. Yes.”

“How long have you been working here, now?” Smith asked.

“Four years.”

“Four years.” Smith repeated. “Well, that’s a long time, isn’t it? Four years.”

Saheed clicked his pen. “Okay, everyone. Five minutes?”