The Private Lives of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John H. Watson

Chapter 8

Get to the clinic. –M.H.

Clinic?

I look at John's chair.

John? –S.H.

Safe. –M.H.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

Moran? –S.H.

Escaped. –M.H.

"Damn!"

Casualties? –S.H.

Just one. Mary Morstan. –M.H.

I cock an eyebrow.

Interesting.

How bad? –S.H.

Grazed shoulder. –M.H.

She saved John's life. –M.H.

I frown down at my phone.

An unsettling feeling made its home in the pit of my stomach.

I grab my scarf and coat.

"Mrs. Hudson!"

She comes rushing out of her flat.

"What is it?"

"Mrs. Hudson, there has been an incident."

"Has something bad happened?"

"John. Someone tried to kill him at work."

"Oh dear." She gasps.

"Lock the door behind me, don't let anyone in and stay away from the windows."

She nods.

I hurry out the door.

At this time of the morning there are an abundance of taxi's going by Baker Street.

I lift my hand and the taxi stops.

I give the cabby the address before staring out the window.

How could Mary have known Moran would be there?

Better yet, how could she have save John's life?

"Ugh!"

I pound my fist against my leg.

Moran would have shot to kill, or at the very least, injure severely.

The fact that Mary had escaped with a grazed shoulder meant that she knew the sniper was there and had stepped in at the very last moment.

Moran would not have wasted that bullet unless he was sure that he would hit his mark.

"Sir? We're here."

I get out and throw some money at the cabby before hurrying into the building.

I push past police officers and medics.

"John!"

"Sherlock."

He hurries towards me.

I grab his arms and inspect him.

Mycroft was right.

John was unharmed although a bit shook up.

His left hand was shaking and his eyes looked wild.

He licks his lips.

"Moran was here."

"Yes. Well, not in the building. He is a sniper, he would have set up across the street. It would give him a good view of your office."