A Study in Miscommunication

Chapter 16

—-John's POV—-

I didn't get a chance to voice my praise out loud, which was probably for the best. Sherlock had said it was fine at the crime scene but it seemed rather inappropriate, never mind embarrassing. Anderson had decided to speak, "So we can read her emails. So what?"

I had to admit he had a point. But Sherlock would have a good reason for wanting her phone. After all, she wouldn't have left the clue if there was no point to it. Maybe she knew the killer? He was sending her threats or something?

"Anderson don't talk out loud you lower the IQ of the whole street."

That was a pretty good comeback. I wondered if he came up with it on the spot or had been sitting on it. I leaned over Sherlock's shoulder trying not to stare at his long pale neck and focus on the dead woman's information.

"We can do much more than read her emails. It's a smartphone; it's got GPS which means if you lose it you can locate it online. She's leading us directly to the man who killed her."

I realized that I'd been leaning in, getting far too close to Sherlock. I hadn't even realized I was doing it. As I watched the hands spin around the clock on the screen I leaned back a bit.

"Unless he got rid of it." The DI piped in from behind me.

"We know he didn't," I said to let Sherlock focus.

"C'mon, c'mon! Quickly!" Sherlock snarled at the screen as if that would somehow speed it up.

"Sherlock, dear," Mrs Hudson said, slightly out of breath, "this taxi driver-"

"Mrs Hudson, isn't it time for your evening soother?" Sherlock interrupted, ignoring her words.

I took Sherlock's seat and watched the screen while he was talking to the landlady. A map popped up while Sherlock was discussing tactics with Lestrade. I half listened as the two discussed their plans. The map zoomed in, finally stopping at... No, that can't be right. "Sherlock?" He ignored me and I double checked but, "Sherlock?" I tried again.

"Where is it? Quickly, where?" He leaned over my shoulder but I couldn't remove my eyes from the map.

"It's here. In 221 Baker Street."

I looked at the luggage while Sherlock mumbled to himself. He had checked the case thoroughly, hadn't he? Had he asked me to go through it to make sure? Why hadn't I checked it? But, no, that didn't make sense.

"Well, maybe it was in the case when you brought it back and it fell out somewhere."

No, it couldn't have because-

"What? And I didn't notice it? Me?!"

No, the killer called! He had the phone! He had to have it. "Anyway, we texted him and he called back," I said because Sherlock was still stuck and clearly wasn't going to mention that bit. I could tell the police wouldn't believe Sherlock otherwise.

"Guys, we're also looking for a mobile somewhere here. Belongs to the victim." Lestrade said, ignoring me.

Sherlock was quiet, lost in thought.

I couldn't figure it out. The GPS on the thing must be faulty. Those things were off, sometimes by quite a bit, right? I wasn't able to devote my entire focus to it because Sherlock was starting to worry me. He was moving about but not saying anything. I'd never seen him this quiet. His mobile pinged, he read the text and didn't seem surprised.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm... fine."

Well, that wasn't reassuring. "So, how can the phone be here?" I asked. He must have thought of something.