Michael Holmes: Secret Son of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 26: The Stag Night 2

Flashback:

Now inside Tessa's home living room, Sherlock wobbled unsteadily in front of a large clear glass plate on a stand. He then grinned drunkenly at the glass plate, then straightens up a bit and looks around the room. He kneeled on the sofa with his arms braced on its back. John stood nearby, leaning against a supporting pillar in the middle of the room.

"Ohhh, it's nice!" Sherlock stands up off the sofa, then promptly falls back onto it. John turns a little and braces his hand against the supporting pillar. Tessa is standing nearby, together with the landlord who is holding a set of keys and looking at the boys in confusion.

"Nice place." John muttered as he walked around the room aimlessly.

The landlord sighs and crosses his arms. Sherlock gets up and totters around the living room.

"Any clues, Mr Holmes?" Tessa asked nervously. John has now braced his back against the pillar and has closed his eyes.

"Oh, errrrrr ..." Sherlock looks blurrily down at all the furniture in the house and starts 'deducing' them.

Fancy table:
designer
table
art?

Fancy chair:
chair
seat
leather
sleeeeep

Fancy-looking speaker:
thing
speaker
hi-tech
thing

A painted animal skull:
? death ?
skull
? deaded ?

An ornament on the window sill:
wood ?
? pipe/tube/wotsit
? thing game ball?

Egg chair:
egg ?
chair??
sitty thing?
???????????

Still humming vaguely, he wanders over to the chair and looks more closely at it, then twirls around and his eyes settle in a rather unfocused way on Tessa and he deduces her:

nurse
?? client ?
victim ??
cardigan

Scratching his head, he suddenly looks inspired. He grins at Tessa.
"I'm just gonna whip this out."
He puts his hand into his coat pocket, then stumbles in circles across the room while he tugs at whatever he's trying to pull out.

Eventually he manages to extract his pouch of equipment from the pocket, simultaneously shaking off his coat and dropping it to the floor. He blinks at the pouch, then unrolls it and takes out his magnifier. Tossing the pouch over his shoulder, he holds the magnifier up to show the others.

He clicks it open. The landlord sighs again while Tessa smiles awkwardly. John is still half-asleep leaning against the pillar. Sherlock drops to his knees on a white rug, braces himself with his left hand and slowly wobbles forward onto his right elbow.

Tessa turns to John and gently pushes him upright from the pillar. "You all right?"

"Hmm? Yeah. He's clueing." John mumbled.

"What?" Tessa frowned.

"He's ... hmm? He's clueing for looks." They look down at Sherlock, who has brought his face down to within about four inches of the rug. He is holding his magnifier to his eye and looking through it, then his eyes drift closed and he slowly topples forward and face-plants onto the rug. "Mr Holmes?"

Sherlock doesn't respond, still on his knees with his bum stuck up in the air. He snores noisily. Tessa looks nervously at the landlord and steps forward towards Sherlock. "Mr Holmes?!" Tessa shouts.

"I'm calling the police." The landlord dialled a number on his phone. The landlord walks across to the rug and hauls Sherlock up onto his knees. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Sherlock suddenly wakes up as he looks up at the landlord, offended. The landlord steps back as John holds out a warning hand to him.

"This is a famous detective. It's Sherlock Holmes and his partner, John Hamish Watson." Tessa said.

"What d'you think you're doing? Don't compromise the integrity of the ..." He said as he turns round, bends over and throws up on the rug. The landlord closes his eyes, and Tessa puts her hand across her mouth.

John's eyes drift upwards as he goes into full thinking mode again. Eventually he finds the words he needs to finish Sherlock's sentence for him. "...crime scene!" He grins triumphantly at Tessa and holds up his right palm for her to high-five. She doesn't take up the offer. Eventually he lowers his hand again, shaking his head.

Sherlock coughs and straightens up onto his knees again. He gestures towards John with the magnifier. Looking up at the others, he holds up the magnifier and delicately clicks it closed, then wipes the vomit off his mouth.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael and Detective Inspector Lestrade stood outside the prison fell, looking over Sherlock and John, who were still asleep. "I'm really, really sorry for the trouble they caused you, Greg." Michael sighed. "I immediately came when I heard from Miss Hudson."

"Not your fault." Greg smiled wryly at the boy.

John finally opened his eyes, he blinked a few times and took in his surrounding. A prison cell? John frowned. His head was spining like crazy, and it was hard for him to get up from the cold, hard floor. "Wakey-wakey!" Lestrade shouted at the two.

"Oh my God." John muttered. He felt like his ears were going to burst. Meanwhile, Sherlock was still flat out on his back and fast asleep on the bench of a police holding cell.

"Michael? Greg?" John mumbled. "What are you doing here?"

"Get up." I'm gonna put you two in a taxi. Managed to square things with the desk sergeant." John painfully climbed to his feet as Greg laughed disparagingly. "What a couple of lightweights! You couldn't even make it to closing time!"

"Can you whisper?" John asked.

"NOT REALLY!" He yelled across the room, making Sherlock flail upwards on the bench, his eyes wide and his mouth open in shock. He looks round the cell in bewilderment. John gives Greg a look of hurt betrayal, then leaves the cell.

"Come on." Michael said to his dad, sighing. Sherlock sat up on the bench, then stood up and put his fingers to his temples, wobbling on one foot. After a moment he lowered his hands and delicately paddled out of the cell.

"Thanks, Greg." Michael said.

"No problem." The detective inspector replied. "But if this happens again, I won't think twice before leaving both of them in jail until your uncle (Mycroft) comes to pick them up."

Michael nodded his head slightly, giggling.