𝘎𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘜𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘐𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 | 𝘖𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 1 ✔︎

Chapter IX - Solving A Case

Sherlock pulls on the handle of the door of 221 Baker St. It opens and he lets Clara inside. They march up a flight of stairs before they come upon 221B. 

Once inside, Sherlock announces, 'I have decided to have you stay here while I work out my case. I will be at New Scotland Yard, so call if you need anything. I believe their number is on the table. The landlady, Mrs Hudson, is out visiting her cousins, and John is over at Sarah's. Again. Oh, and the doors will be locked since you technically are a criminal,' With that Sherlock grabs his coat, which he had left at home, and shuts the door, leaving Clara alone in his flat.'

'Okay...' Clara states, even though Sherlock is now gone.

The first thing Clara notices about the place is that the shelves are full of books. She thinks, why not pass the time with a good book, and rifles through the shelves. The books are, unsurprisingly, all non-fiction, and most of them start with the Science of... She grabs two titled the Science of Time and the Science of Space. Clara sets them down on a rather large chair (probably Sherlock's, she thinks) and continues to look around the flat.

A cup of tea would be nice, Clara thinks, so she goes to the cupboards. They are all messy, so, since Clara knows she will be here a while, she organises it. Then she realises the rest of the house is a pigsty too, so she goes around cleaning. She piles the papers and files into a neat stack, sorted alphabetically; She puts all the books, except for her two, back on the shelves, and so on and so forth. Soon, the flat is as organised as it can get, which meant the body parts in the fridge and the experiments on the table weren't dealt with.

Abandoning her hope for tea, Clara sits down to read her books. She has finished the Science of Time and has started on the Science of Space when Sherlock comes back.

'My flat.' he stammers, gazing around. 'It's... clean.'

'Great deduction, Sherlock. By the way, you need more tea. I couldn't find any anywhere.' Clara responds, not looking up from her book. 'How was the case?'

'Oh, no improvement,' Sherlock says, having gotten over his shock and throwing his coat on the rack. Clara puts down her book and looks at him. 'I can't seem to figure out this one bit...'

Clara gives him a once-over and says, 'Really, Sherlock, I'm quite disappointed. It's obvious, really. Steve Mitchells--that's who you said it was, right?--went missing the fifth of August, two days ago. His car was found by the side of the road with muddy tires, even though the road had just been swept clean. His dead body is found in the trunk. The wound is from a syringe but is made to look like a knife wound. Why did he die?

'The syringe is a clue. He had angered the manager of a local hospital, so, on Steve's annual check-up, the manager sent Steve's doctor to inject poison into Steve's bloodstream. The poison takes effect a few hours after the injection, and Steve dies. Then, the manager finds Steve's body and has Steve's doctor uses a knife to cut over the hole the syringe has made. The doctor stuffs Steve's body in Steve's car's trunk and drives away from the hospital.

'But they made a mistake. The mud on the tires is another clue as well. There is no easy way to clean tires, so that means that the hospital is located somewhere muddy and that often gets a lot of rain. From my memory, I know that there is only one hospital to fit the location's description, and that is in South Wales.' Clara writes it's address down on her bookmark. 'And the reason you couldn't find any fingerprints is that the doctor had carefully used plastic gloves while performing everything. Case solved. The police force should get to the hospital tomorrow morning if they leave soon.' Clara hands Sherlock her bookmark with the address written down.

Sherlock stands there, mouth slightly agape.

'You pulled a Sherlock,' John says from the doorway, ruining the moment. 'Look, I just forgot my coat. I'll be heading back over to Sarah's now...'

Sherlock ignores John as he leaves. 'But how did you... you didn't even see the crime scene, and you were here the whole time,' Sherlock mutters.

'Ah, is the famous Sherlock Holmes speechless? Easy. When you came back from the crime scene, there was mud on your shoes, even though the streets have just been swept. That means you probably kicked something muddy and below knee level; a tire. There are samples in tubes in your pocket, and I overheard some officers talking as well. Sally told me a few details. But no one told me the answer; I figured it out on my own.'

'Bravo,' Sherlock says, regaining his composure. 'I will report it to Officer Lestrade, you get the credit. In the meantime, you may go home, but remember that I will be coming to get you tomorrow.'

Clara bounces out of her chair and leaves the flat, taking the Science of Time with her.

~~~~~

WC: 884