Fate Without Time

Chapter 23

A/N: I'm continuing straight from where the clip in the last chapter ended. 

Sherlock looked at me, indicating for me to continue. " So: a child with big feet gets ..." Sherlock held his hand up to stop me, obviously realizing something. "Oh," he said softly. "What?" asked John. "Carl Powers," he said. "Sorry, who?" I asked. "Carl Powers, John and Alissa," said Sherlock, still staring into the distance. "What is it?" asked John. "It's where I began," said Sherlock. "Did you just call me Alissa?" I asked. "Yes, I did. Problem?" asked Sherlock. "No, not at all. In fact, I like it," I said. 'Note to self: Start going by Alissa,' I thought as the three of us exited the lab.

A few minutes later, we were in the back of a taxi. "Nineteen eighty-nine, a young kid – champion swimmer – came up from Brighton for a school sports tournament; drowned in the pool. Tragic accident," Sherlock paused as he showed us a newspaper article on his phone. "You wouldn't remember it. Why should you?" he asked. "But you remember," I said. "Yes," said Sherlock. "Something fishy about it?" asked John. "Nobody thought so – nobody except me. I was only a kid myself. I read about it in the papers," said Sherlock. "Started young, didn't you?" I asked. "The boy, Carl Powers, had some kind of fit in the water, but by the time they got him out it was too late. But there was something wrong; something I couldn't get out of my head," he said. "What?" asked John. "His shoes," I deduced. "Exactly," said Sherlock. "What about them?" asked John. " They weren't there. I made a fuss; I tried to get the police interested, but nobody seemed to think it was important. He'd left all the rest of his clothes in his locker, but there was no sign of his shoes ..." Sherlock paused as he picked up a bag containing the trainers. " ... until now," he said.

Back at the flat, Sherlock and I were in the kitchen with the doors closed, examining photos and printouts of newspaper reports of Carl Powers' death from 1989. "Can I help?" asked John as he slid open one of the doors. We both ignored him. "I want to help. There's only five hours left," said John. Suddenly, my phone got a text alert. It was from Mycroft, which read:

Any developments?
Mycroft Holmes

I sighed. "It's your brother. He's texting me now," I said to Sherlock. "How does he know your number?" asked John. "I gave it to him when we first met," I said. "Must be a root canal," said Sherlock. I put my phone down and turned to Sherlock. "Look, he did say 'national importance,'" I said. Sherlock snorted, not looking up. "How quaint." he said. "What is?" I asked, getting a little irritated with Sherlock. "You are. Queen and country," he said. "You can't just ignore it. Mycroft's starting to irritate me," I said. "I'm not ignoring it. Putting my best assistant onto it right now," said Sherlock. "Right. Good," I said. But then, I realized what Sherlock meant. "Oh, no," I said, knowing where this was going.