The Great Game [Reader Insert]

The First Move

     You had to admit, the photo from the phone seemed familiar, but you were honestly surprised when Sherlock led you, John and Lestrade to 221C, the basement flat. You reached out to open the door, but it was locked. 
     "Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock called.

     Mrs. Hudson came out of 221A. "Oh, what is it, Sherlock?" she asked, peeking out the door.
     "Can you bring us the keys to 221C, please?" you requested politely. She shut the door and came back shortly with them.
       
    
     A moment later, everyone was inside the flat and downstairs at a second door.
     "You had a look, didn't you, Sherlock? When you first came to see about your flat," Mrs. Hudson was chirping.
      Sherlock ignored her and got down on one knee, (No, he's not proposing, I swear) peering through the keyhole of a padlock on the door.."The door's been opened recently," he muttered thoughtfully.
     Mrs. Hudson frowned. "Can't have been; That's the only key!"

     Sherlock gave her a look and turned the key, then yanked off the padlock. As he tried to find the key for the actual door, Mrs. Hudson started yapping away. "I can't get anyone interested in this flat. It's the damp, I expect. That's the curse of the basement flat! I had a place once when I was first married. Black mold all up the walls..." She trailed off, suddenly realizing that everyone else was already in just as the door shut in her face. "Oh! Dear me!" She shook her head, a bit flustered, and headed back to 221A.

     221C looked exactly as it did in the photograph, except for one thing. Right in the middle was a pair of trainers.
     John stared at them like he was expecting the trainers to explode or start  flying around the room or something. He blinked. "....Shoes."

     You made a start toward them, but John reached out with a hand to keep you back. "It's a bomber, remember," he told you warily.

     You rolled your eyes and moved toward the shoes again, but before you could even get in a step, a phone ringed.

      At first you thought it was your phone, but it the sound was coming from somewhere else. Sherlock visibly cringed and slowly pulled the pink phone from his pocket. He looked at the screen and then up at you with wide eyes. 'Number blocked,' he mouthed as the phone continued to ring. You made a  well, get on with it! gesture and he answered the phone, putting it on speaker. He held up the speaker a few inches to his mouth as John and Lestrade watched anxiously. "Hello?" 

     A terrified, sobbing feminine voice answered. "H-Hello ...sexy."