Sherlock Holmes- Meet me on Waterloo (A Sherlock Holmes Fan Fiction)

Chapter Eight

I walked through the revolving doors at the top of the stairs leading into the third bank (NatWest), so far and queued in the line for the information counter, there were three people in front of me and unfortunately the clerk seemed to be inept. I could just hear the person at the front complaining-

“I need to talk with her, she was the one that set up all the loan documents, if I have any-” I stopped listening there until I heard the clerk answer- “Madam I'm sorry but Miss Berkeley hasn’t been at work for the past week, if we knew where she was then we would tell you but unfortunately we have no idea.” I peered around the people in front of me and inspected the woman manning the desk, her face was sincere enough but there was something about the eyes that made me think that she was hiding something, or at least not letting the angry woman in on something, she began wringing her hands and I smoothly stepped up and walked quickly behind the counter and next to the clerk.

“Is there a problem here ma’am?” I asked, the woman next to me in the official looking uniform gave me a questioning look, fortunately the customer ignored it. “Yes actually I would like to speak with Cheryl Berkeley, she-” I cut her off

“Okay well Cheryl isn't here so Rachel will direct you to the loan manager who has the original documents and we can sort this out, alright?” I was bullshitting of course but the clerk looked at me a second and then making a quick phone call asked the rotund little woman to sit in the waiting room at the end of a long corridor to the left. Rachel, whose name I had read from her name tag turned to me after she had dealt with the other two customers and looked confused. I smiled kindly, “Its okay, I used to work here,” I lied easily, “I was just coming to get my final pay check.” She smiled back.

“Oh, well thank you then that lady had been shouting at me for ten minutes.” She explained.

I changed the topic. “I was wondering of you could tell me anything about Cheryl leaving, she always seemed happy here.” Again lying, but she bought it.

“yeah… well I thought so, I mean she always seemed happy, and then she started seeing someone-” she stopped herself and looked up as if she had given away a massive secret.

“Who was it Rachel? Who was Cheryl seeing?” I asked insistently, but she shook her head and looked down. “I don't know who she just seemed as though she had lost something after they started going out. Like life had lost its meaning.” She looked up frowning, “What was it you said you did here?” She asked, but I had already started away, hearing her call after me as I exited the building, pulling my coat tight around me against the chill.

I still had the torn up paper to check when I got back home and I was adamant that there was some evidence hidden on the Mp3 player, there couldn’t not be, not with all the music that had been in the bedroom drawer, which I suppose was why I was looking up at the sign for Waterloo Road. I headed up the road until I found the house with the yellow tape and clambered over it for the second time, only this time there were no flashing lights, there were no men in white suits scurrying around and there weren’t any open doors, I was going to have to sort the lock out for myself. I paused only a second and peered at the easily-picked double barrel lock, pulling out a few small copper rods and a steel pin from one of the numerous pockets on the jacket that my dad had bought me a while ago, I'm sure that he hadn’t had this in mind for it when he gave it to me though, of course by the end of that mental track I was inside, only fourteen seconds after the pieces of metal had left my pocket. With the door swinging back I looked through the doorway and stepped inside, drawing the door closed behind me. My instincts told me that something was changed about the house and I couldn’t place my finger on it, until I got up to the landing on the first floor. “Shit…” I muttered, the whole carpet had been changed, and I don't mean a cosmetic change, the actual carpet had been replaced. I edged carefully around the room to where I had noticed a stain the first time I was here and it was gone, sighing; I huffed over to the bedroom and was about to pull open the door when I heard a rattling from the door handle of the main entrance. It seemed that someone was checking their handy work.