A Study in Miscommunication

Chapter 17

—-Sherlock's POV—-

I had seen enough people to know that the good ones were few and far between and no one was perfect. This cabbie didn't just prey on the guilty, the adulterers or what have you, he preyed on everyone. Young, old, rich, poor, important and overlooked. It didn't matter to him. His pattern was that there was no pattern.

The cabbie entered his taxi and sat.

What kind of result did I care about? I thought about it, weighing my options. I glanced up at the flat where John, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade were. Where the good people I knew were. I wasn't one of them. The puzzle called to me. I could admit it was more enticing than some random person's life was. Lestrade, Mrs Hudson and John would all know if I went upstairs and told them the cabbie was killing people. Gave the DI the number. Even if he walked I could easily keep them safe.

But the puzzle would remain unsolved.

"If I wanted to understand, what would I do?"

"Let me take you for a ride."

"So you can kill me too?" He was killing them. I knew that. I just didn't know how.

"I'm don't wanna kill ya, Mr Holmes. I'm gonna talk to ya and then you're going to kill yourself."

Impossible. No one just died from being spoken to by someone they'd never met unless there was a history there. If someone was suffering because of bullying, depression, mental illness and the like then all it would take would take was someone insidious whispering in their ear. If they provided a pill that would make it all go away many would take the option.

If John were provided with that option, he would have taken it. Would he still?

No, I couldn't think like that. I needed to be logical. I'm going into this prepared. I wasn't going to fall for some cheap parlour trick. It would be easy, if he thought he's controlling me, manipulating me, to get him to show his cards. Then I'd call Lestrade, he'd arrest the cabbie and I'd be free to help John move in.

Simple.

I entered the taxi and the cabbie pulled away from the curb.

—-John's POV—-

Lestrade was packing everyone up and he asked me, "Why did he do that? Why'd he have to leave?"

"You know him better than I do," I said. It was clear this DI was close to Sherlock. I wondered if they had more than a working relationship. It would make sense, if they were trying to keep their relationship a secret that Sherlock would say that he was married to his work. They were probably serious.

"I've known him for five years." He shrugged on his coat and his wedding ring flashed in the light. Was it Sherlock's? Before I could think about it the DI said, "And no I don't."

"So, why do you put up with him?" If Lestrade wasn't shagging Sherlock then Lestrade had no reason to let Sherlock on cases. It had to be against protocol; Sherlock clearly wasn't one for following the rules.

"Because I'm desperate, that's why." The DI finished putting on his coat and turned to leave. Before he made it out the door he turned to say, "And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man and I think, one day, if we're very, very lucky, he might even be a good one."

I wasn't sure what to make of that. If the man who abducted me was Sherlock's ex then why wasn't he going after Lestrade if they were lovers? The man had control of seemingly every camera in London, why would he bother with me? Answer: he wouldn't.

If Sherlock was asexual, then DI Lestrade did just need help to solve cases. I understood bending the rules if it meant saving lives. It was still possible that the mystery man was Sherlock's ex but if Sherlock was asexual and married to his work it was less likely. If he wasn't an ex then who was he? I still didn't know.