Death of a Consulting Detective

Gavin's Shitty Flat

November 25, 2013

Ms. Hudson has told me exactly 144 times that my blogger is dead. Every time she tells me I politely tell her to return to her flat downstairs. John is living somewhere waiting for me to figure out the riddle. I'm already close to solving it too; I can feel it. My best theory is that he is rooming with Lestrade. His complete mental breakdown during our encounter was the most abnormal reaction to my return and it has stuck out in my mind as a little too suspicious. So far I have been in love with this case John has given me to solve. There are so many possibilities, so many friends of his and so many favorite places and it has made me think even more than Moriarty ever did.

I woke up immediately this morning and hailed a cab to go to Lestrade's flat. I barely had my jacket on before I ran out the door without any sort of breakfast. There's absolutely no time to eat when I could be moving one step closer to John. Oh how I've missed him. In the taxi I was thinking of him for the whole ride. I imagined the smile on his face when he thought he fooled me with this little game. That smile kept me going when I was working undercover for Mycroft.

I forgot to mention how lovely the weather was too. The sun was shining for once and the sky was a baby blue. How convenient that the day would be so beautiful when I get to see my blogger alive, well, and happy. I just know I will see him today like I know I'm close to solving his case.

The cabbie dropped me off then rushed off down the road to pick up some other miserable chap with places to be but nothing to get them there. I made my way to Lestrade's door - the place where he lived was not hard at all to figure out; John had it written down on a piece of paper - and knocked as loudly as I could in hopes Gareth would realize I've figured everything out.
It was truly alarming when the Detective Inspector threw the door open wearing a plain grey t-shirt and a pair of navy blue track pants. He looked like he was about to go to the gym or like he didn't have enough money to buy a nice set of pajamas. I do like however how Lestrade kept up with the "grieving and tired" appearance to go along with the game; it was a nice little touch of detail. He even mumbled a few obscenities to express his dislike for me.

"I thought I made it clear you were to fuck off, Holmes."

"Well you seem pleasant this morning. Going for a jog?"

"A jog? I was asleep! It's only five in the morning!"

"Yes, I know. I'm up later than usual. May I come in?"

He shifted his body a little so he would block the entire doorway to prevent me from barging through. He knows I've found John so he's trying to drag the scam out a while longer.

"I told you to go away. I will grab my gun if you don't."

Ohhh a threat. John is most certainly here then.

"The game is over Gavin. I'm through playing around. Where is John Watson?"

His face was priceless. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open slightly as if he were confused over my comment on John being alive. Why has everyone become so clever at acting during my absence?

"Are you really that stupid Sherlock? Have you not been listening?"

"I know you're hiding John in there Lestrade and I would very much like to see him."

Lestrade rubbed at his eyes to show his "exhaustion". You're faking Gareth. I know you are so give up already. It's of no use actually tiring yourself out pretending to be tired. He didn't stop though which made me very annoyed all of a sudden. This delay for my reunion with John is starting to tear me apart on the inside because of how much I have missed him. Graham continued to say things that are already known to be untrue and his actions are seemingly worse than Anderson's by now.