LIKE SUN AND MOON | Sherlock x Fictional Character

4 - An Impossible Case

Rhythmic footsteps on the stairs indicated that someone (most likely an obese man in heavy boots) was approaching the door. Sherlock smiled. He was sitting in his chair with his fingers intertwined. Waiting.

Only two more steps, one more step on the threshold, and a knock sounded at the door. Strong and intense.

'Come in.'

A short and - as the detective expected - obese man entered the room, dressed in a black coat with a hat he had just removed, revealing an almost bald skull. His eyes wandered around this dark and rather extravagant room, where time seemed to stop a while ago.

The man was panting heavily and had a blush on his face. Sherlock pointed him to the couch, watching him closely. The customer sat nervously on the edge of the couch and fixed his eyes on the detective.

He swallowed his saliva, visibly nervous.

'I come to you because I heard you are a respected detective.'

Sherlock nodded his head.

'Two days ago, my wife was found dead. Everyone believes that she died a natural death because she was sickly and recently felt very weak...'

'But...?' Sherlock was starting to feel impatient as the visitor fell silent for a moment, staring at his lap.

'But I don't believe it. I think it was my brother. We were never on good terms, but... Why did he have to kill Ann and not me?'

He took out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes.

'Is your brother married?'

This question came from the direction of the window. The bald man turned surprised. Amber stood there, with her back to them,  looking out the window and listening to the customer's story.

'No, he isn't. He's not even engaged. He is only interested in science.'

Amber chuckled quietly. Sherlock understood the allusion but only grunted dismissively. The client did not realize the unspoken exchange that had occurred.

'It was not him.' Amber said, burying her hands in her coat pockets. (For reasons unknown to the client, she was standing in the room wearing a coat, even though Sherlock was simply wearing a suit.)

'You're not 100 percent sure.' Interjected the detective. 'But if you eliminate the impossible...'

'...whatever remains, no matter how impossible it seems...'

'...must be true.' They finished together.

The man's eyes wandered from one to the other in shock, but they ignored him.

'As long as there is even a tenth of a percent probability, this version of events cannot be ruled out.' Holmes said.

Amber turned away from the window and looked at Sherlock dismissively, but said nothing because she knew there was no point in arguing further.

'Keep talking.' Holmes said to the visitor after a moment of silence, still looking at Amber.

'But... but what?' The bald man was starting to sweat, confused by the detectives' behavior.

'Details.' Sherlock focused his eyes on the client again. 'Where the body was found, who found it, when and where it all happened.'

'Well, let's see. It happened at my house, two... two days ago. I was away for business reasons. I had to stay longer at work, until three in the morning, also I was not home until four in the morning and I... It was me who found Ann in the living room. She was lying on the couch and I thought she was asleep, but... she was, oh...'

He pulled out his handkerchief again. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

'I immediately called the police. I truly believe it was a murder. They thoroughly checked the crime scene but found nothing, so they decided that she died a natural death.'

'And what did the autopsy show?'

'I don't know. I have not been informed whether the autopsy was conducted at all!'

Now, that finally captured the detective's attention.

'She is on sick leave, and the pathologist replacing her can't cope with the excess of her duties.' Said Amber, understanding that Sherlock was wondering why Molly had not done her job. 'John told me. If you talk to your friends sometimes, you would know that.'

'In that case, off to the morgue we go!' In no time Sherlock was next to the door.

'You very well know I can't go now.' Amber sounded disappointed that she couldn't join him. He turned to her, and it only took him a second to come up with a solution.

'Well...' He pulled out his phone and dialed the right number. 'Yes. No, she can't. That's right.' He hung up quickly. 'Now you can.'

She was stunned.

'You. Are. Impossible.'

'I will solve this case, don't worry.' Sherlock suddenly reminded himself of the confused man in his living room. Then he disappeared into his bedroom.

'Goodbye?' The man put on his hat and left, still very confused.

Amber sank into the armchair, annoyed.

'Come on.' Sherlock re-entered the living room.

'I'm not going anywhere.' Insisted Amber.

He looked at her as if she had just said she was Moriarty.

'Please?' He tried. No response.

'Tell me what happened?'

'Why, you're not the only one who can be mean here.'

He tilted his head back, sighing. He knew this could have meant only one thing.

'Mycroft, right?'

She nodded slowly, trying to avoid his look.

'He's just my older brother. John was also offered money. Ignore him, he will do whatever he pleases either way.'

She thought about it for a moment but agreed with him. There was no point in thinking about it more.

'And now-' Sherlock rubbed his hands together. 'To the morgue! Ladies first!'

He opened the door, and they set off together to discover the real cause of the death of their client's wife.