Morphine || The Niece Of Sherlock Holmes

A Study In Pink - Chapter 3 -

When I got back to the apartment Sherlock had already gotten there before me and was lying on the sofa, three nicotine patches on his arm to help him to think. I also noticed that there was a pink suitcase by the fireplace, presumably the one previously owned by Jennifer Wilson and I was immediately curious as to where he found it. I sat down at the desk and opened the laptop, "three patches?"

"It's a three patch problem," he replied then glanced around, "where's John?"

"Driving past Regent's Park apparently," He looked at me bemused so I turned the screen to show him the map which had red dot as a marker.

"Good, I texted him to come here, should only be a few minutes," but then backtracked, "How did you do that?"

"Hacked into the GPS tracker in his phone," I replied. It wasn't long until I heard footsteps on the stairs and John entered the flat giving a confused look to the patches on Sherlock's arm but chose not to question it and sat down on the armchair.

"What's this about? The case?" John asked.

"Her suitcase, yes, obviously! The murderer took her suitcase. The first big mistake... it's no use. There's no other way, we'll have to risk it," he muttered to himself then said to John, "There's a phone number on my desk - I want you to send a text."

John laughed, annoyed, "You brought me here to send a text."

"A text, yes! Number on the desk!" He looked at John who was hesitating and sat up, "what's wrong?"

"... I just met a friend of yours. Well, your arch enemy - according to him. Do people have arch enemies?"

Sherlock was quiet for a moment then asked, "... did he offer you money to spy on me?"

John stared at him, confused at how he knew this, "Yes."

"Did you take it?"

"...no?"

Sherlock sighed, "Pity. We could've split the fee. Think it through next time."

"Who is he?"

"The most dangerous man you've ever met and not my problem, right now. On my desk, the number," He said and John got up to read the number off the piece of paper, "Now these words exactly. 'What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland Street. Please come'."

Sherlock stood up and walked over to the fireplace where he moved the suitcase to the centre of the floor to open it and John stepped back, cautiously. "That's... that's the pink lady's case... Jennifer Wilson's case..."

"Yes, of course it is," he looked up at John and rolled his eyes after noticing his reaction, "Oh, I should probably mention that I didn't kill her. Given the text I just had you send, and the fact I have this case, it would be a perfectly logical assumption."

"Do people usually assume you're the murderer?"

Sherlock smirked, "Now and then, yes. The killer must have driven her to Lauriston Gardens. He could only keep her case by accident, if it was in a car. No one could be seen with this case without attracting attention - particularly a man, which is statistically likely. So obviously he'd feel compelled to get rid of it the moment he noticed he still had it - wouldn't have taken him more than five minutes to realise his mistake. I checked every back street wide enough for a car within five minutes of Lauriston Gardens and looked for anywhere you could dispose of a bulky object without being observed. Took me less than an hour to find the right skip. Now look - do you see what's missing?"

"From her case? How could I?" John asked.

"Her phone," I answered and John glanced at me in bewilderment.