Fate Without Time

Chapter 34

The next morning, the three of us were back in Baker Street. Sherlock and John were sitting in their armchairs watching the news on TV, while I was staring out the window, still traumatized by the events of the previous night. But I could still hear what the News Reader was saying. "The explosion, which ripped through several floors, killing twelve people, is said to have been caused by a faulty gas main. A spokesman from the utilities company..." the TV became background noise as John began talking. "Old block of flats. He certainly gets about," he said. "Well, obviously we lost that round – although technically we did solve the case," said Sherlock as he muted the volume on the TV. While they were talking, I had been trying to figure out what exactly had gone wrong, until suddenly, I got it. "He killed the old lady because she started to describe him," I said. "Correct, Alissa. Just once, he put himself in the firing line," said Sherlock. "What d'you mean?" asked John. "Well, usually, he must stay above it all. He organizes these things but no one ever has direct contact," I said. "What... like the Connie Prince murder – he-he arranged that? So people come to him wanting their crimes fixed up, like booking a holiday?" asked John. "Novel," Sherlock said softly. "Huh," said John. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that they had moved on to the story about the Connie Prince murder. Sherlock was looking down at the pink phone, obviously getting impatient. "Taking his time this time," he said. About a minute later, Sherlock put the phone down and walked over to me, laying a hand on my shoulder. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "Still in a little shock, but I've felt worse," I said. Sherlock held out his hand for me. "Do you want to sit down?" he asked. I nodded as I took his hand and was led to the couch. "Anything on the Carl Powers case?" asked John. "Nothing. All the living classmates check out spotless. No connection," I said. "Maybe the killer was older than Carl?" John suggested. "The thought had occurred," said Sherlock. "So why's he doing this, then – playing this game with you? D'you think he wants to be caught?" asked John. I press my fingertips together in front of my mouth and smile lightly. "I think he wants to be distracted," I said. John laughed humorlessly, getting out of his chair and heading towards the kitchen. "I hope you'll be very happy together," said John. "Sorry, what?" asked Sherlock. For once, I actually agreed with John, who was furiously leaning his hands on the back of his chair. I sat up and looked Sherlock directly in the eye. "There are lives at stake, Sherlock – actual human lives... Just – just so I know, do you care about that at all?" I asked. "Will caring about them help save them?" Sherlock asked irritably. "Nope," said John. "Then I'll continue not to make that mistake," said Sherlock. "And you find that easy, do you?" I asked, getting extremely frustrated with Sherlock. "Yes, very. Is that news to you?" asked Sherlock. "No," said John, smiling bitterly. "You're right. It isn't news at all. I don't know why I even try with you, Sherlock," I said, slumping back on the couch in defeat. Sherlock looked at John and I for a second. "I've disappointed you," he said. "That's good – that's a good deduction, yeah," said John, still angry as he sarcastically pointed at him. "Don't make people into heroes, John and Alissa. Heroes don't exist, and if they did, I wouldn't be one of them," said Sherlock. The three of us stared at each other until the pink phone sounded a message alert. "Excellent!" Sherlock exclaimed as he shot up from his chair to grab the phone. But to his surprise, I beat him to it. "I think it's time I got to see the clue first for once," I said. "Very well," Sherlock scoffed as he slumped back in his chair. Then, I pulled up the message. "View of the Thames. South Bank – somewhere between Southwark Bridge and Waterloo," I said as I tossed the phone to Sherlock, who had gotten out his own phone. "You two check the papers; I'll look online ..." said Sherlock. "On it, boss!" I said as I sat back down on the couch. But just as I was about to begin my search through the newspapers, I saw that John wasn't moving. "Oh, you're angry with me, so you won't help," said Sherlock. John raised his head and shrugged. "Not much cop, this caring lark," said Sherlock, loudly clicking the 'k' on the last word. "Just help, John. He's obviously not going to cooperate," I said. John sighed as he sat down on the sofa beside me, beginning to help me go through the pile of newspapers on the coffee table. "Archway suicide," said John, reading from a newspaper. "Ten a penny," Sherlock snapped irritably. I gave Sherlock a look as he went back to his phone. "Two kids stabbed in Stoke Newington," John read from another newspaper. And then, I found it. "I've got it! Man found on the train line – Andrew West," I said. Sherlock looked exasperated when he found no helpful information in the reports. "Nothing!" he exclaimed. "Ha! We actually beat you this time!" I said, feeling very victorious. "Shut up, Lissa," said Sherlock. "Didn't John tell you not to call me that?!" I exclaimed. "I know. And I'm doing it because it irritates you," said Sherlock. I rolled my eyes as he pressed a speed dial and the phone began to ring out. As soon as it was answered he started talking. "It's me. Have you found anything on the South Bank between Waterloo Bridge and Southwark Bridge?" he asked.