Contact High → Sherlock Holmes (BBC) [on hold]

{ sixty-seven }

Mycroft sighed again when Carmen didn't answer her phone. He put it down for a moment, considering his next option. He picked up his phone and dialed John, though he knew he wouldn't answer. On the other end of the line, John stared vacantly at his phone as it rung.

"You should answer that," Mary said. John flinched at her voice, which was just a figure of his own imagination. It was scary to know his own mind had power over him like that. "It's Mycroft," he said unnecessarily.

"Might be about Sherlock," Mary said, her voice lilting. John shook his head bitterly. "Of course it's about Sherlock, everything is about Sherlock," he snapped. They both were quiet. Or, John was quiet.

Mary wasn't even there.

<>

"How did you know my kitchen was tiny?" Faith asked.

Both her and Sherlock walked down the street, steps in unison. Sherlock shrugged, holding the paper out. "Well, look," he began, "the fading on the paper. It's not much, but it's enough to know your kitchen window is facing east." He stumbled into the middle of the street, "Now, kitchen notice boards."

Sherlock traced a square in the air, in his mind, he saw the perfect board in front of him. Full to the brim of menus and schedules and the like. "By instinct, you hang your notice at eye level, where there is natural light," he demonstrated hanging the note up. He gestured to it, "Now look, the sun's only struck the bottom two-thirds, but the line is straight. So we know the paper was facing the window."

He walked a few paces from his imaginary board and drew another rectangle. This one was the window. He squinted as his brain filled reality with his fancy. He saw the window he had drawn, hovering over the pavement. Sherlock even saw bright sunlight shining through it, though the sun had long since set.

Sherlock walked back over to the paper and pointed at it, "But, because the top section of the paper is unaffected, we know the sunlight can only be entering the room at a steep angle. If the sunlight was able to penetrate the room when the sun was lower in the sky, the paper would be equally faded from top to bottom."

"But no, the light only makes it when the sun is at it's zenith, so I'm betting you live in a narrow street on the ground floor. Now, if steeply angled sunlight manages to hit eye level on the wall opposite to the window, what do we know about the room?" Sherlock asked.

He moved to the 'window' and pushed it forward, until the light pouring through it matched the fading on the paper. Faith watched it all with an amused smile on her face. Yes, the deductions were interesting, but seeing Sherlock run around and play with invisible objects was more entertaining.

"The room is small," Sherlock concluded.

The helicopter finally caught up to them and hovered over the street. It's spotlight shone down on the two people. Sherlock looked up at it in spite. Faith chuckled, "Oh, Big Brother is watching you."

Sherlock laughed bitterly, "Literally." He shoved his hands in his coat pockets.

<>

"You didn't have to come in, Mycroft, we can keep tabs," Lady Smallwood said stuffily.

On the giant wall screen, many different angles of the scene were playing out. Sherlock stumbled around the street. Mycroft watched his little brother for a long moment. He angrily sighed. "What is he doing, wandering around like a fool?" Mycroft snapped.

Lady Smallwood shot him a scathing gaze, "She died, Mycroft. He's probably still in shock."

"I would understand if it was Carmen..." Mycroft trailed off, shaking his head, "Everyone dies. It's the one thing human beings can be relied upon to do. How can it still come as a surprise to people?"