Sherlock, My Colleague

Chapter Two

"Hello? Is this Sherlock Holmes?" I said, even through I knew it was. "It is him. What do you want? I am busy." He said, in a callous tone.

"I am Juliette. I believe that I have a clue for one of your cases. -Which one? -Your third Hidden message. -You have found it? I did. -Come, we'll discuss it then."

He was busy in is mind palace, so I hung up. I had not even walked out of the tube station that I received a call, from my dad.

"Hey what's up dad?

-Don't mess around, you know why I'm calling you. Where are you?

-Marylebone, why? -You ran away, again.

-I did, dad, I sure did.

-I put you in that place so you get cured. You are playing with your health.

-Nonsense. They are just a bunch of assholes trying to control me.

-For your own good.

-No, dad. No. I need to be free, the master of my life.

-Darling, I know that. But I just couldn't cope anymore. I couldn't see you destroying yourself anymore.

-I am not going back there.

-Okay. It's okay. But do you mind coming home then?

-I have something to do beforehand.

-If you don't come back home by tonight I'll ask the police to come and get you.

-Dad... I am fine I assure you."

After about thirty seconds of silence, I hung out on him, and knocked on the door of the 221b.

"Hello miss, you are here for Sherlock?" Said the landlady. "That is right. -He is waiting for you. This way." Showing me the way.

She looked exactly as I imagined, nice and calm, the almost exact opposite of Sherlock. I walked up the stairs, the door was already opened. I knocked on the door three times, and my dear fellow detective opened it. I directly sat down on an armchair, smiling at Dr. Watson.

"I have no intention of talking much. However, I write a lot, so here it is." I said, giving him Mycroft's package along sides with a thin notebook, where my observations are written. He took them, and directly opened the package. Inside the little cardboard box, there was a few ripped pieces of paper. He examined them quickly, playing with them with his thin hands.

"Hum, that's interesting. I might thank you for that. But I have a question first. How did you find that my brother had the code to solve the hidden message?

-I cracked his phone, so I knew someone was going to give it to him. It turned out it he wanted to give you a birthday present by asking a mathematician to solve it.

-Why did you take it then?

-Some people, bad people to be more specific, knew the package was coming, because they kidnapped the mathematician. It was supposed to come at 10am, but I've sent an enquiry to the post office for it to be delivered at 9am, anonymously of course.

-Wow. That's impressive! How old are you? Said dr. Watson.

-Almost 17." Said-I, in a fraction of a second.

He whispered "right", raising his eyebrows. He seemed quite impressed. It did not make me neither hot nor cold. I did not take it badly, but I do not live to impress people, I live to either work with them or against them. I could have contacted the police, but I am not willing to give all I have worked for just yet. Plus, I want to work with Sherlock Holmes. I believe that he is the only one that can make me progress, when you exclude people from the secret services that are not attainable as a "lambda" 16 years-old. Sometimes I wish I was older, or that at least I looked older, so I could pretend to be an adult, that has been to University. It is a goal of mine, to study criminology, even though I already know most of the thing you need to know in that field. 'Things you need to know' are not just basic stuff, I mean. When I start learning a new thing, I always have the intention of digging the subject to the maximum, like I dig in my brain when I solve a problem.

I was looking at Sherlock, amused, when I heard noises in the stairway. Someone I know very well had entered the room. Inspector Lestrade, along with two officers of the Met.

"I couldn't have wished for better. Sherlock and Juliette in the same room.

-Lestrade! Smiling.

-Let's keep that short, shall we?

-I have not heard Sherlock's conclusion yet.

-Sherlock, make that quick please, I have to bring her back to where she belongs. Said Lestrade.

-Where I belong? I said, promptly.

-You know what I mean. He said.

-Yes, I do know what you mean by it, but I do not belong there. I would have stayed if I did.

-Argh, you haven't change, have you?

-Nope. Now if you excuse me." I stood, turn right, and opened the window. I did it so gently that no one excepted what was coming, except Sherlock of course.

I jumped over the window's little fence. Like a yamakasi, I almost flew away. Looking back at the window, I waved at Lestrade, who sweared "Argh, now she has become a bird!".