The New Client

2.

Sherlock leant back, smiling. He liked it when people knew who he was, it made him feel important. What he liked more though was people coming to ask him for help, this made him somewhat big headed as others might put it, politely.

“Ah.” Holmes said leaning back into his chair. “You see Mr Carter. I know exactly why you are here.”

“How could you?” asked Carter “I haven’t said a single word amidst all your shenanigans.”

“Shenanigans.” exclaimed Holmes. “I hardly think tea and coffee are shenanigans.” He inhaled deeply on his cigarette. The smoke, he knew was bad for him, but at least it provided an escape from the world in which he was trapped with the incompetent masses. He studied Carter very carefully. “Because my poor narrow minded man,” he smiled, wisps of white clouds curling round his thin red lips, “it is my job to know. Furthermore, as I recall you are the one requesting my services, not vice versa. Unlike you and perhaps sadly the rest of this place we call Earth my brain is too big for my head, whereas you and the rest of…” he gave a dismissive wave of his hand, “have heads that are too big for your brains. Giving them little significance and making them feel lonely inside that vast space that surrounds them.” Mr Carter was caught between storming out and never recommending this detective to anyone ever and throwing Holmes out the window. Though Carter somewhat doubted he could as Sherlock’s ego would never fit. Holmes could see the torment he was inflicting upon his latest arrival and loved it. He was well aware he could say and do whatever he wanted as there was indeed no one else like him and his services were indispensable.

He stifled a laugh and continued in his rampage. “How about we play a little game?” he whispered, now relying on his own ability to amaze everyone and in some circumstances himself, to keep him entertained.

“I really don’t think you should Sherlock.” said John, a tone in his voice that caused Mr Carter even more uneasy.

“Oh come now Watson. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of fun.” His eyes darted quickly around Carter with immense speed, absorbing every microscopic detail, hidden to the average human.

“You are left handed.” He stated.

“Well that’s hardly impressive.” snorted Carter. Holmes went on, not rising to the taunt.

“You suffer from bad toothache, hence the constant clenching of teeth, and low groans of pain. You are trying to quit smoking and have been smoke free, as it were for about two weeks. You refused to comment when I started smoking and seem infinitely more relaxed with the fumes around you. You are chewing gum, perhaps to relieve your tooth pain but I suspect more that it is nicotine gum.” He smiled, pleased with his current progress. Carter looked unimpressed, clearly this was not enough.

“You roll your own cigarettes, that is why you have picked up my favourite article and began rolling it as if you intended to smoke it.” Carter looked down, he had not realised he was rolling a piece of a magazine and dropped it as if it burnt his hands.

“Do you mind?” Holmes quipped, reaching down to pick up the cutting. “That article is very close to me.” He placed it on the coffee table between him and Carter. He stared at it and was greeted by a smiling picture of Sherlock and the headline “Holmes under the Hammer.” I admit the title is rather awful but I think that they captured my good side. Carter could not stand him any longer but it was imperative that he remain where he currently sat. He braced himself for the next wave of knowledge about him that he already knew.

“You are wearing coloured contact lenses because you don’t like your original eye colour which is green, you preferred blue. You are half German from your mother’s side and take great pride in your job and appearance. It is from this that I can deduce you were in a great rush to get here this morning. You cut yourself whilst shaving and did not change your shirt where you have spilt some blood. You are wearing odd socks, the rush to get here was so important that you did not have time to search for one’s missing partner. You only put one of your contacts in so you currently have one green eye and one blue.” Holmes stood up, and wandered off to a small closet. He muttered to himself as he tossed various boxes and files out. He straightened up and walked back to his seat, passing Carter a box of contact lenses and a mirror. “Please feel free to take another one, you remind me of my great Aunt Beda in that state. Finally whatever the problem is, it is distracting you so much that on your anxious journey here you have bitten all of your finger nails to kingdom come.” He paused and breathed, often he got carried away with his stupendousness. Carter looked at Dr John Watson. John looked from Holmes, who was reclining ever more into the sofa and had a grin etched upon his face like the Cheshire cat, to a clearly broken man whose last resort had been to come and request the services of the notoriously brilliant Sherlock Holmes.

“It’s what he does.” He said, clearly unable to explain Holmes any more than a complete stranger.

“That’s it exactly!” Holmes burst into life and jumped onto the coffee table, kicking whatever lay on top of it into the fire. He jumped down from it and sat on the very edge, his face almost touching Mr Carter’s.

“Now then Mr Carter. Joking aside. What can I help you with?”