Secrets (Sherlock)

Blind Banker- part 8

Quinn POV

            I couldn’t breathe. All I could do was stare dumbly at the slip of paper in my hands. My heart was beating so hard that I could hear it, and my hands were shaking. I felt like I was having a panic attack. I took out my phone and dialed John, whose number I had gotten shortly after we realized that I should have it. Each time it rung I could feel my heart beat faster and my head throb more. Finally, after four tones, he picked up.

            “Hey Quinn,” said john, obviously preoccupied by something. I looked down at the neat, yet smudged, ink that resided on the notepaper in my hands. “Quinn? You alright?”

            Pause. “No, john. I’m not. Cemetery. Please hurry,” I scrambled, my breath ragged as I felt my legs finally give out. I fell to the floor, and I could hear the faint concerns from john through my phone. But, I was out before I hit the concrete sidewalk, the shock finally hitting me.

3rd Person POV

John was looking through two books he had found when he heard his phone ring out. He put the books down on the table, and walked over to his coat, where he proceeded to take his phone out of his coat pocket.

“Hey Quinn,” he said, flipping through the books again. When all he could hear was her ragged breath, he stopped to focus on the woman on the other side of the line. “Quinn? You alright?”

Pause. “No, john. I’m not. Cemetery. Please hurry.” It was followed by what sounded like her dropping the phone, and falling to the floor. “Quinn? Quinn, you still there? Quinn!”

He looked up at his flat mate, who was completely focused on the case. He knew it was stupid to take him out of his ‘mind palace,’ but Quinn could be in trouble. So, john swallowed his fear, and shook Sherlock’s shoulder. His eyes snapped open, and pure rage was filled with them as he looked at John.

“What?” he hissed.

“I think Quinn is in trouble. She just called me, and said she wasn’t all right, and to go to the cemetery. Then, it sounded as if she fell and dropped her phone.”

Sherlock’s rage switched off as he jumped up and grabbed his coat. John was following him, but the speed that he was going at was hard to follow. As john stepped in to the cab, Sherlock was already yelling at the cabbie to move. He quickly started driving, and, within minutes, the two were standing outside the rusted gates of the cemetery.

John started to open the gates when he spotted Quinn’s familiar looking car, with what looked like feet sticking out from behind them.

“Sherlock,” he said, turning towards him, but he was already running towards it. Sherlock kneeled down next to the unconscious woman next to him. Gently, he curled his fingers around her wrist, and sighed in relief when he felt the light tapping of her pulse. But, his senses were reactivated when he saw a slip of paper in her hands. He pried it from her hands, reading it.

Kanske jag reden har.

Sherlock easily translated it, but was quite confused by the message.

Later, after Sherlock had found Quinn’s car keys in her jacket and john drove the trio back to Baker Street, the once asleep Quinn awoke with a jolt, immediately standing up and panting.

“Ebbe. That’s Ebb’s handwriting. I would recognize it any-“ she was cut of talking when she collapsed and barely caught herself on the table. John, who had been running through some more books, quickly stood up, and helped the traumatized woman back to the couch.