The Great Game [Reader Insert]

Within the Police Tape

     (Still having computer problems. I published the last chapter two days ago but it just like totally disappeared off of the face of the earth, so I had to rewrite it which is why I kinda didn't post a chapter yesterday, although I TECHNICALLY did. Also, I'm going on vacation over the weekend and leaving tomorrow. So. Won't be writing then either. ALSO- for some reason it's not letting me see image urls so I can't post images at the top of the chapters anymore. I am extremely frustrated. I want to strangle something.)

     Sometime later, Lestrade led you, Sherlock, John to the car from the photo. Oh yes, and Donovan had also tagged along. Forensics officers were swarming all over it, something you didn't appreciate-and you were sure that Sherlock didn't, either.

"The car was hired yesterday morning by an Ian Monkford," Lestrade informed. "Banker of some kind. City boy. Paid in cash." You took a look inside the car as Lestrade spoke. "Told his wife he was going away on a business trip, and he never arrived."

     The car was strangely clean. Well, apart from the blood smeared everywhere. :L You noticed how the blood was largely concentrated in areas that it'd be easier to see in, like against the cold gray metal between the two front seats rather than on the black leather of the car. You opened the glove compartment as Shelrock asked Lestrade, "Is that Ian's blood?"

     "Yep," Greg confirmed. "DNA checks out."

     You pulled out a business card from the glove compartment and straightened up, pocketing it. "No body," you noticed.

     "Not yet," Lestrade replied hopefully.

     "Get a sample sent to the lab," Sherlock ordered him. Lestrade nodded dutifully and then gave Donovan, who was buy John, an expectant look. She glared daggers back at him but Greg held her gaze. Finally, Sally stomped away to do what Sherlock had said with an indignant huff.

     You looked to Sherlock to see what his reaction to Sally's fit, but his eyes were locked on two women standing several feet away. One of the women was a blonde police officer, the other a crying civilian who you deduced to be Monkford's wife. 

    "Stay here," Sherlock told you under his breath. Before you could ask why, he'd snuck up behind the teary-eyed lady. "Mrs. Monkford?" He said quietly behind her, making her jump. 

     "Yes. Sorry, but I've already spoken with two policemen," she managed to say through her tears.

     Sherlock gave her an empathetic smile and held out a hand for her to shake. "Sherlock Holmes. Very old friend of your husband's. We, um..." he swallowed as if he had a lump in his throat, and then continued tearfully, "We grew up together."

     Mrs. Monkford looked confused, but she shook his hand. "I don't think he ever mentioned you," she told him, her brow creased.

     "Oh, he must have done," Sherlock said, voice growing more tremulous by the second. Gosh, he was such a better actor than his brother. Sherlock changed the subject. "This is... this is horrible, isn't it? I mean, I just can't believe it. I only saw Ian the him the other day. Same old Ian- not a care in the world!" Sherlock laughed wistfully.

     "Sorry," Mrs. Monkford said with dismay, "but my husband has been depressed for months. Who are you?"

     Changing the subject again. "Really strange that he hired a car. Why would he do that? But suspicious, isn't it?"

     "No, it isn't," Mrs. Monkford answered, getting a bit offended now even as tears continued to slide down her face. "He forgot to renew the tax on the car, that's all."

     "Oh, well, that was Ian! That was Ian all over!" 

     "No, it wasn't!"

     Sherlock's sad and pained expression suddenly dropped. He narrowed his eyes at Mrs. Monkford. "Wasn't it? Interesting."

     (Okay, sorry, I meant to do more, but I've really got to go and this computer is going to be the end of me. I REALLY hope it starts working soon. Now I'm going on vacation. C'ya. *sigh* You know what? After I come back from vacation, I'm going to update this chapter, adding on to it so that its not so useless and uneventful. Okay now bye.)

     "Why did you lie to her?" asked John, ducking under the caution tape as Sherlock held it up. To your surprise, Sherlock didn't let it go before you could pass, which had to be some sort of milestone.

     "People don't like telling you things," Sherlock answered, wiping away some tears. The group slowly walked away from the scene. "But they love to contradict you. Past tense, did you notice?"

     "Sorry, what?"

     "He referred to her husband in the past tense," you said. "She joined in. Bit premature- they've only just found the car."

     "You think she murdered her husband?"

     "Of course not!" you replied, as if to even suggest the idea was ridiculous. "That's not a mistake a murderer would make."

     "I see."   John hesitated. "No I don't. What am I seeing?"

     "FiShInG!" cried Donovan from by a police car back at the crime scene, making John pause and look back. "Try fishing!"

     John rolled his eyes and turned back around, muttering under his breath.

     "Try fishing?" Sherlock repeated, giving Watson a quizzical look. "Try fishing for what?"

     "She thinks I should find a hobby instead of hanging out with you two."
     "Oh, then." You laughed. "I see she's lost all hope on my part." You reached into your pocket and pulled out the business card, twirling it between your fingers. "We've got to get to Janus Cars. I've just found this in the glove box!"