SHERLOCK I, II, III & IV • #wattys2016

Ghost Criminal

With clenched fists, John walked briskly down the white halls, his eyes on Alana’s room. Using his perceptive senses, he located the security cameras, everyone who would suspect them, and the night guards. He didn’t think of the plan to escape, he knew Sherlock would take care of all that entirely, instead he set his mind on what they should do, or say, if they were caught. Crossing his fingers, he entered Alana’s room with a more than needed smile.

“Hello, love!” John chirped, closing the door behind him.

Looking right through his acting, Alana said, “What are you up to?”

“All right, don’t make a fuss, but, Sherlock’s got a way out of here. He wants to meet Rawlings sooner than later.”

Swinging her legs off the bed, Alana walked over to the window and peeked out through the shades. John came up behind her. In a quiet voice, Alana said, “The night guard down there breaks every twenty minutes for a smoke. He likes to stand by the bus stop and look out at the clouds. Perhaps, on his next break, we can sneak out.” Pursing her lips in a satisfied smile, she looked over her shoulder at John and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Mmm, very good,” John complimented, crowding her body.

Elbowing him, she slipped underneath his arms and went over to the door. “What’s Sherlock’s plan?”

“Apparently, he wants to go for a ‘walk’. You should say that you want to come, too—say that you wanted to see him. Are you all right?”

Alana nodded her head. “I think I’ll be. I think it all hasn’t hit me yet. I was thinking about him. Mor—,” she squeezed her own arms at the memory of the criminal. Looking up at John, she whimpered, “I still have horrible dreams—frightening dreams about that one time.” She broke into tears, sending John to her side.

“Oh, darling, don’t you worry, now. I’ve got you.” John held her close, rocking back and forth slowly until she settled.

“I’m all right, I’m sorry. I just--- it’s all right. We’ve got to go.” Alana and John exited the bedroom, arms linked, and casually made their way towards Sherlock’s room.

On their way down, a nurse wheeled Sherlock out. Smiling, she said, “He’s woken up. And he insisted he wanted to see you two. Perhaps,” she handed the wheelchair over to John, “perhaps you can take him outside. There’s a lovely pond and plenty of fresh air.”

“May I come?” Alana asked in her sweetest voice. She knew that if she asked, it would make the situation more ordinary rather than she, having been in a fragile state, all of a sudden skip out with the other two.

“Of course, you may. That is, if you’re feeling better,” the nurse said. “You might want to check with your nurse, though.”

“Oh, I have,” Alana fibbed. She caught herself from biting her lip.

“Thank you,” John said, pushing Sherlock towards the front door. He traded an astonished look at Alana, who returned the same face back. They were both surprised at how readily the nurse had let Sherlock go, and even more curious at how the man in the chair had implied her to do so.

When the three of them were outside, John and Alana peeked around the shrubbery, trying to get a glimpse of the night guard without moving.

“Go to your car, John,” Sherlock ordered, waving a finger towards the parking lot. “The security cameras can still see us from inside, and I know you two are searching the place – can we be any more obvious?”

“Sorry,” John said as he quickly wheeled the detective to the parking deck. On their way, John asked, “How did you manage to get outside?”

“Easy. By the power of crying and implying. She was quite young – wouldn’t have been able to do this with someone older than her. Anyway, I fooled this nurse into thinking I was a wildlife lover and that the thought of ‘never seeing it again’ would end my life. I talked mostly about how nice nature smelled, which gave her the notion that even though I can’t see at the moment, I can still smell. So, she said she’d go talk to her superiors and see if I would enjoy a stroll. I, of course, insisted that I shouldn’t, but that only made her more enthusiastic. So, I knew you would come and fetch me, and she knowing that you were my best friend, automatically trusted me with you. Now, here we are!”

Alana knelt down beside Sherlock and placed a hand on his. “What do we do now?”

Smirking, Sherlock replied, “Take me to your car.”

“Wouldn’t people be watching?” Alana asked. “I’m only dressed in a hospital gown, you’re clearly a patient here, and John will look quite suspicious! And any form of distraction we do may draw more attention to ourselves.”

Sherlock turned to John and lifted his chin, cueing John to lean in. When his friend was close enough to hear his whisper, Sherlock remarked, “She’s sparkling! I like how she thinks.”

Splitting into a proud grin, John nodded agreeably. “Yeah, I know. Now, what are we doing?”

“I’m thinking! Like she said, we can’t really leave without being noticed. The security guard is probably finishing his smoke. Alana, put on my coat, it’s under my gown on my lap. Don’t worry, I dressed myself. After you put it on, fetch John’s car and pick us up. It’s a chance we’ll have to risk. We’ll pull out a little ways out, call a taxi, transfer there.”

Alana walked over to John and reached into his pocket for his keys. “I hope we know what we’re doing.”

Fidgeting with the bandages around his eyes, Sherlock replied in a rather irritated voice, “We don’t have much time to think of another clever way. Sometimes being sloppy is more efficient---mind you, sometimes.”

John turned to Alana and rubbed her arm in an assuring manner. “Go on, love, we really don’t have much time. Those men at the hotel are probably on their way here. We got to get a move on.”

“I’m so bored!” Sherlock groaned, stomping a foot. “Nothing’s going as fast as I want it. Everything’s so slow! Tedious! Dull!” Sherlock’s voice rose to the point where John had to slap a hand over his mouth.

“Shut it, Sherlock!”

“I need to deduct!” Sherlock fussed behind John’s compressing hand.

“Then deduct!” John snarled, pulling his hand from his friend’s mouth. He wiped his palm on his jeans in disgust.

There was a bridge of silence before a gasp escaped the detective’s lips. “Oh, it’s not the Russians. Of course he wouldn’t leave without leaving me one more case!”

“Who’s leaving what?” John said, his eyes squinting in bewilderment. He only wished he could read Sherlock’s mind—it would make their interactions more equal.

“Moriarty,” Sherlock replied, bitterness hissing through his teeth. “He mentioned that his friends would come after me if I killed him. This Russian case dates further back than Rawlings think it does.” Pausing, Sherlock held up a finger and his head cocked slightly. “Moriarty was part of this Russian-American trade. Why? I think he thought ahead. He knew I would find out about it.” Sherlock’s fingers rubbed together in excitement. “He never stops, does he?”

“Sounds like he’ll be toying with you even from his grave,” John commented in a saddened voice. “How do you know Moriarty was a part of it? I mean, I’m not surprised.”

Taking in a deep breath, Sherlock answered, “The little things. Like the envelope used to hide the message. I felt the texture. Same paper he used to write the grocery list for Sonia, remember? The list that had fizzy spilled on it – I’m sure your old army mate was working with Moriarty during his scheme – we just didn’t know Moriarty was alive then. And it’s the same paper the invitations were to my show. And the pistol used on you and Alana. I saw it in his house on the mantel when he brought us to where he was keeping Alana.”

“Never thought paper would be that significant. Oh, Alana’s here. Don’t tell her about Moriarty, she’s still—,”

“Right, I understand,” Sherlock replied in a surprisingly kind voice.

John’s black car pulled up and the two quickly hurried into the car, taking the wheelchair with them.  The moment they pulled out of the parking lot, the security guard threw his cigarette to the ground, snuffed it out with his heel, and returned to his post.