The Shadowmen

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

(Author's Note: This chapter starts at the conclusion of Chapter Two.)

Sherlock began walking away from the apartment, unsure of where he was going, a slight smirk on his face. Nothing made him feel better more than to see the looks on people's faces after one of his brilliant deductions.

His smile dropped. He remembered back when John would look over at him, a grin spread across his face, and say, 'That was BRILLIANT, Sherlock.' He sighed. There was nothing he missed more than that one compliment after a deduction.

He exhaled deeply and continued walking.

He went over his recent deduction again. If the man wasn't from Cardiff, where did he come from? His clothes didn't suggest any specific location. Each individual piece seemed to have been bought in an entirely different place. There was only one thing he could tell about the man from his attire. That bow tie. This man was eccentric.

Sherlock played the scene back in his head. While questioning the other injured people, he had glanced over at the man. He had been staring longingly at a couple who had survived together, particularly the girl. He'd obviously lost a woman who was close to him, she could have been his lover, but Sherlock thought otherwise. A very close friend. The man was obviously an adventurer of sorts. This friend of his could have accompanied him on his journeys - a companion, that's what she was. He had lost a companion. Maybe this was why he had been visiting Cardiff. To find someone new to join him on his adventures. He had gone to Cardiff for that sole purpose, only to have his arm slashed with a knife. Tough luck.

He continued walking aimlessly down the streets of Cardiff, his shoes scuffing the concrete beneath his feet.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He dug around in his pocket for a a bit until he felt its cold surface. He pulled it out and read the text. His face lit up. The crime scene was open for investigation.

He turned on his heel and began making his way back to the apartment, his long coat flapping around in the twilight breeze.

He arrived at the apartment and was immediately lead upstairs by DI Braddock. They stopped in front of the door leading to the room he was to be examining.

Sherlock clutched the doorknob and turned to the Detective Inspector.

"Let me in alone. I need five minutes at least to review the evidence. No, don't say a word, DI Braddock. I don't care if you won't let me. Just ask DI Lestrade. He works at Scotland Yard. Go. Go on. Get out." Sherlock motioned for him to back away.

Sherlock turned the doorknob and pulled the door open slightly.

He scanned the room. It wasn't empty, like he had been promised. Someone else was there. It was same man he had questioned earlier. The eccentric one. Sherlock wasn't surprised. A knife wound hurts like hell. He must have come back for a reason. Revenge? Perhaps. Sherlock's eyes left the him and continued searching the room for anything unordinary. There was a giant stain of blood in the corner, right behind the man. The room had two windows, and the door he was standing in was the only exit. Sherlock stopped searching the room and turned back towards the man with the floppy hair.

He slipped through the door and entered the room. "Ah, hello. You're that man who got stabbed and lied to me earlier today. Now, if you'll get out of my way, I must conduct the evidence. I will throw you out of the window if you get in my way." Sherlock said, walking towards the blood stain.

He began chipping the blood-stained wood of the wall.

The man seemed a bit confused. "You won't ask why I'm here?"

Sherlock smiled as he continued to scrape. He told the man everything he had deducted earlier.

"Your strange taste of clothing indicates that you are not from Cardiff. This isn't your apartment. A tad eccentric. That steely look in your eye before I walked up gave me the impression that you're dangerous. You also have lost a lot of people that you care about, because you glanced at the couple who survived together with tears. Obviously reminding you of someone you lost. Smart, too. You walk with an air about you, like you know something others don't. This isn't your apartment. You were trying to perform a good deed and were attacked. So you came here to find the man that attacked you. You're smart, so you could track him down. Dangerous. You could make him hurt. Also, you lost people. You'll do anything to either protect others or get what you want back. You're looking for revenge for your arm. A bit extreme, but I'm sure you're just like that."

Sherlock stole a glance at the man to see that he was, in fact, very impressed.

"How..." The man said, raising an eyebrow, "How did you know that I'm eccentric?"

"That bow tie." Sherlock said with a smirk. "Join me. I'm not often stumped on a case, and I'd like to keep it that way. You seem to know something that could help me solve this, and I know a good Greek place a block away. On the way over there, you can tell me how right I was on the deduction. Oh, I do love hearing others praise me."

He stood up, and began walking away. The man followed him, obviously. He WAS an adventurer. Though he couldn't replace John, this floppy-haired man would be as close to a companion as Sherlock could get.

He swooped down the stairs, the man not very far behind him. At the bottom stood DI Braddock.

Sherlock walked past him without a second glance.

"Detective Inspector." The stranger said, obviously trying to be a bit polite, unlike Sherlock.

"Who the hell is he?"

Sherlock continued walking.

"Sherlock, answer me now!"

He turned around and looked at Braddock."Haven't the faintest!" Sherlock said, smirking slightly. He turned to the man. "Just keep walking."

"GET BACK HERE, NOW." Braddock said. Sherlock could tell Braddock was becoming infuriated. But he didn't care. All the more fun for when he meets him again.

"Sorry, Braddock. I'm busy. Toodle-pip!" He walked out the door, feeling like his old self again.

Sherlock faced back towards the man. "RUN."

Braddock tried hopelessly to catch up to them, but Sherlock was sure he never would.

The two men ran away from the apartment, their coats whipping around in the wind. Sherlock was laughing. He hadn't done something like this since the rooftop incident when he escaped from the police. Finally, something to do!