CHAPTER FOUR
Helping handSHERLOCK'S POV
God damn it! This case is driving me nuts! How the hell could someone kidnap people so easily, I even followed our only lead!
"You okay?" John's voice calls, honestly I almost forgot he was there. "You've been pacing for 15 minutes now."
I continue my pacing, a couple more laps, ignoring his inquiries. Until an idea struck me, and instantly I grab my scarf.
"Come on John, we're going to see someone." I say, as I dart down the stairs and straight for my coat.
"Wait! Who? The killer? Did you figure it out?" He asks, hurriedly rushing after me. I roll my eyes at his quite obviously incorrect question.
"No. And old friend, who can tell us about the killer." I reply, not particularly in an explanation mood.
"So what? We've been sitting around whilst a murderer is on the loose, and someone knows who it is? Isn't that like, obstruction of justice?"
"Yes it is, but then again no one can prove he knows anything about it."
"So why are we going if he probably knows nothing."
"Because John, there isn't a possibility that he knows nothing; he knows everything."
Ren's POV
Sherlock's on his way.
- GhostAfter reading the text from Garry, or Ghost, as he likes to call himself. I immediately went to the kitchen, and brew three cups, setting them down on the coffee table in my living room. Which consists of two rustic leather sofas, facing the centre piece coffee table, and my favourite leather arm chair, heading the two sofas; I like the industrial rustic decor theme.
Before long, my door is being opened and Sherlock barges his way in, John contemplating whether or not to follow; eventually deciding to do so.
"Please gentlemen, have a seat, I've been waiting." I say in a sophisticated and slightly smug voice hiding my natural accent in favour of a Londoner one, watching as they both take a seat on either couch, I sat usually in my arm chair.
"Wait, you knew we were coming?" John, to my right, asks skeptical of me.
"If I didn't you wouldn't be drinking tea right now, be grateful, not skeptical." I sass whilst gesturing to the two mugs in front of them, laughing at his taken aback expression. Seems Sherlock is obviously not one to talk about me.
"I need some information on a case." The devil to my left announces. I turn towards him, lifting my tea to my lips, and calmly sipping at it. I know I'm trying his patience, he was never one to enjoy simple things.
"Of course you do, you always do." He scoffs slightly and John looks intrigued that his talented friend asks for help. The doctor stays quiet, unusually observing his companion.
"The poison victims, they were all abducted, I followed a lead last night, it got us nowhere." He says, ignoring my past comment.
"So you're asking how he abducts his victims? You know I don't do freebies, so tell me what I want to know." He is about to answer, when a better idea strikes me. "Wait."
"Never thought you were one to second guess yourself, Rens." He quips, analysing my face and attempting to view my thought process; that's not going to work.
"I'm not, simply changing my mind, Sherlie. And seeing as you are one of my best clients I'll cut you a deal, I'll tell you want you want to know, if you let me on the case with you." I bargain, actually excited about experiencing the life of a detective. He ponders the offer for a moment, knowing that if he refuses then the information is as good as gone. I catch a glimpse of John, I think he is giggling at my nickname for the detective.
"You have a deal."
"You're just going to tell us if we let you come with us?" John asks, he seems to like questions.
"Yes I am, it's boring doing what I do, I wanna see what you guys get up to." He quietens down after that, content with my reply. "The lead you were following the other night, it was right."
"It can't be, the man had only recently arrived in the country." Sherlock recites his discovery, baffled by my logic.
"Then you looked in the wrong part of the taxi."
"The cabbie?" John asks, realisation hitting him like a rock to the head. And by that I mean, he leaps out of his seat, eager to know if he asked the correct question.
"Yes, the cabbie." Sipping my tea, I allow Sherlock to confirm my knowledge with the crimes, knowing that his show-off self couldn't resist.
"Yes it makes sense. Can pick up anyone off the streets without suspicion, for it is quite literally their job." He is also out of his seat, pacing the length of my living room. "How could I have not seen it!?"
"Because there always has to be a smart answer for you, you never see things with simplicity." I answer his rhetorical question, knowing he had heard me but decided against saying anything.
Finishing my cup, I grab my phone from my pocket, sending a quick text.
On the case, mission a go x
- RGlancing back at the duo, I see them finishing their cups, John being as kind as to place all of them in the kitchen, and the lot of us ready to leave.
Good job. Keep me updated x
- JMI smile to myself as we leave my house, heading back to Baker Street. Its adorable that he uses x's too, and he's also pretty fun to mess with. After all this is over I might even consider keeping him as a pet~
"Could they be hits?" John's voice cuts off my thoughts as I focus back on the conversation.
"No, hits are targeted and these are too random and chanced." Sherlock replies, barely looking at the man.
"Actually, they could be, some hits don't have to be targeted, just paid." I give my input, knowing full well what I'm talking about. Though I'm not too sure if the man is taking hits, it's definitely a possibility, I know Jim had hired him, but I do not know his play.
Hailing a cab, the blue eyed detective comtinues. "For what point and reason."
"None. Some people pay to see death, it's quite a common occurrence in human history." I say as I climb into the cab, followed by John and then Sherlock. He looks doubtful and unconvinced. "You do your detective work for the kicks, why should this be any different?"
"He has a point." John adds.
Finally Sherlock nods, seeming to accept it as a possibility. "We need to find him then, before this happens again."
YOU ARE READING
Little Games
Fanfiction.・゜゜・。・:*˚:✧。 james moriarty A new life. A new city. And a hell of a lot of trouble. Renzo, otherwise known as Rens Drake, is a Scottish boy, recently moved to London for a fresh start. However, with a criminal lifestyle, will pickpocketing informat...