The Boscombe Valley Mystery
When Sherlock texted me to say he was dropping by about a case, I admit I was a bit hesitant. However, when he jumped out the cab and knocked on the door, I already had my jacket on. We left for Scotland Yard and somehow I found myself on a train to Boscombe within the hour.
I can't say a lot because of people wanting to remain anonymous and pretty much every Official Secrets Act. But what happened was a murder. The murder was beside a pool, and the son of the victim was under arrest and accused with the murder. Of course Sherlock discovered that he was not, in fact guilty.
The witnesses confirmed that Sherlock's theory fitted, exactly. And, for the first time ever, Sherlock's tobbaco ash skills came in handy. We're at 254 now.
The murder wasn't committed by the victim's son. It was someone well known to the victim and someone I didn't suspect in the slightest. Shows how good a detective I would make! But, that's Sherlock for you, he knows everything. He's amazing to watch, circling a crime scene like a wolf circles his prey. His eyes dart around and you can almost see that great mind of his working at 100 miles an hour. It leaves everything else biting dust.
The game is back on.
John sat back and smiled at what he had written before updating his blog. Short but simple. Explaining a little but not breaching the rules. A ping made him look back down at the laptop.
Sherlock Holmes: Really John, you would compare me to a wolf. This blog is getting progressively worse.
John just laughed.
"What's so funny?" Asked Mary as she walked through.
"Nothing, Mrs Watson, just Sherlock Holmes being Sherlock Holmes." He grinned.
"I haven't heard from him for a while, how is he?" Mary asked, sitting next to John on the sofa.
"Good question, I have no idea." John leaned his head on Mary's shoulder. "I worry about him you know."
"I'm sure he's fine, don't worry about it. He left for two years remember, and he was okay. By the way, did he ever tell you, you know, how he did it?" Mary asked.
"No." John sighed and wrapped an arm around her. "And he didn't tell me why. But, he's Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, and he never shares his secrets."
Mary laughed. "True. But I'm sure he's fine. Was he fine when you went away together last month?"
"Yeah, seemed perfectly happy. You know what he's like- murder. Nothing more enjoyable than solving a murder." Said John.
"Well then don't worry about it. You know what, text him. See how he's doing. Socialise." Mary rubbed her stomach and grinned.
"Long way to go yet." John said, poking her belly softly. She kissed him lightly, then left back to the kitchen.
John frowned slightly as he texted Sherlock. He was still worried.
*
Sherlock ignored his phone and threw another cigarette butt into the grate.
YOU ARE READING
Nicotine
FanfictionA BBC Sherlock fanfiction. Set immediatley after The Sign of Three. Events in His Last Vow did not take place. Johnlock
