Stranger (A Study In Pink)

A New Stranger

Not long afterwards, John and I were walking down what may well be Brixton High Road. He tries to hail us a passing taxi.
"Taxi! Taxi ..."
The taxi passes by us. 
"Well then. " I commented quietly.
The payphone on the wall near us begins to ring. We both turned and looked as one of the serving staff walked over to it but as he reached for the phone, it stoped. We continued to walk on down the road and shortly afterwards approach another public telephone box. The phone inside starts to ring. This is so confusing. I'm about to go answer, but John beats me to it.
"Hello?"
John frowned. "Who’s this? Who’s speaking?"
I noticed John started to look funny outside of the box.
" Yeah, I see it."
I find where John is staring and notice that the camera begins to turn around.
" Mmm-hmm." 
Soon enough three cameras in total have turned around.
"How are you doing this?" John asked.
A black car pulls up at the curbside near the phone. The male driver gets out and opens the rear door.
I'm guessing the car is for us.
"Great. " I mumbled.
Soon enough we find ourselves sat in the back of a car with a woman typing away at her phone.
"Hello." John spoke to break the silence.
"Hi." She looked up from her phone to look at both of us before typing away again. Is her face glued to the screen or something?
" What’s your name, then?" I asked.
" Er ... Anthea."
"Is that your real name?"
" No." She replied smiling once again.
" I’m John."
" Zoe." 
 "Yes. I know." She spoke with confidence. I'm not sure whether I like her or if she is just annoying.
"Any point in asking where we're going?" John asked.
"None at all ... John... And Zoe."
"Okay." John spoke looking defeated.
Soon enough we are guided through a dark warehouse where there is a man leaning on an umbrella and two seats casually sitting there.
"Have a seat, John and Zoe." The mystery man gestured to the chairs.
"You know, I’ve got a phone. I mean, very clever and all that, but er ... you could just phone me. On my phone." John spoke causally and I slowly followed behind. 
"When one is avoiding the attention of Sherlock Holmes, one learns to be discreet, hence this place.The leg must be hurting you. Sit down. Both of you."
"I don’t wanna sit down." John and I speak in unison.
The man looks at us curiously.
"You don’t seem very afraid." The man look quite amused.
"You don’t seem very frightening."
I held back a chuckle.
" Ah, yes. The bravery of the soldier. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don’t you think? What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes?"
" I don’t have one. I barely know him. I met him ... yesterday."
The new stranger looked at me.
"And you?"
" Same here. I only just met the man yesterday."
"Mmm, and since yesterday you’ve both moved in with him and now you’re solving crimes together. Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?" He asked his eyes mostly look8ng at me at the end of the statement. 
" Who are you?" I asked. My eyes began to narrow down.
"An interested party."
My eyes began to scan his body to see if my brain would come up with anything interesting, but to no prevail. I guess it only works when I'm not forcing it to happen. I need to relax. 
I sighed. Which earned me a side glance from John.
"Interested in Sherlock? Why? I’m guessing you’re not friends." John asked.
"You’ve met him. How many ‘friends’ do you imagine he has? I am the closest thing to a friend that Sherlock Holmes is capable of having. "
"And what’s that?"
" An enemy."
" An enemy?"
" In his mind, certainly. If you were to ask him, he’d probably say his arch-enemy. He does love to be dramatic."
"Well, thank God you’re above all that." John spoke sarcastically .
The man frowns at him. Just then John's phone trills a text alert. He immediately digs takes out the phone and activates it, looking at the message while ignoring the man in front of him. I decided to peer over his shoulder.  The message read:

'Baker Street.
Come at once
if convenient.
SH'
"I hope I’m not distracting you both." The man spoke as if he was interested.
"Not distracting us at all. John spoke.
" Do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock Holmes?" 
" I could be wrong ... but I think that’s none of your business. If we do or not." I spoke up.
" It could be."
"It really couldn’t." I spoke in annoyance.
"If you do move into, um ... two hundred and twenty-one B Baker Street, I’d be happy to pay you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to ease your way."
"Why?"
" Because you’re not a wealthy man."
I coughed.
"And woman."
I nodded.
" In exchange for what?" 
"Information. Nothing indiscreet. Nothing you’d feel ... uncomfortable with. Just tell me what he’s up to."
"Why?" I asked curious.
"I worry about him. Constantly."
" That’s nice of you."
" But I would prefer for various reasons that my concern go unmentioned. We have what you might call a ... difficult relationship."
John's phone received another message. We both looked over the message.

'If inconvenient,
come anyway.
SH'
"No." John answered and I nodded with agreement.
"But I haven’t mentioned a figure."
"Don’t bother." I added.
"You’re very loyal, very quickly."
" No, we're not. We're just not interested."
“Trust issues,” it says here."
John looked a bit shaken at that comment.
"What’s that?"
"Could it be that you’ve decided to trust Sherlock Holmes of all people?"
"Who says I trust him?"
"You don’t seem the kind to make friends easily."
"Are we done?" I asked annoyed and I wanted to stop this man from tormenting John.
"You tell me." The urge to punch him at this moment was unbearable. "I imagine people have already warned you to stay away from him, but I can see from your left hand that’s not going to happen." He was looking directly at John.
John stops dead. His shoulders tense and drop and he angrily shakes his head a little. He is clearly furious as he turns back around to face the man.
" My what?"
"Show me." The man nodded towards John's left hand as he spoke and leaned against his umbrella as if he was waiting for John to follow his request.
John being John, I could tell he wasn't going to do as he was told by just anyone, especially one who is currently making me feel cautious. The man starts to walk up to John.
"Don’t." John warned, but soon gave in showing him his hand.
"Remarkable."
"What is?"
"Most people blunder round this city, and all they see are streets and shops and cars. When you walk with Sherlock Holmes, you see the battlefield. You’ve seen it already, haven’t you?"
"What’s wrong with my hand?"
"You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand. Your therapist thinks it’s post-traumatic stress disorder. She thinks you’re haunted by memories of your military service."
"Who the hell are you? How do you know that?" John demanded.
"Fire her. She’s got it the wrong way round. You’re under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady.You’re not haunted by the war, Doctor Watson ... you miss it. Welcome back.Time to choose a side, Doctor Watson." He looks at me. "You too, Miss Watson." How did he know I've chosen to use John's surname. I need to put my guard up around this man. 
"I’m to take you both home." The Not-Anthea woman spoke.
John then received a third text.

'Could be dangerous.
SH'
"Address?"
" Er, Baker Street. Two two one B Baker Street. But I need to stop off somewhere first." 
We stopped at his old place.
"Wait here Zoe." I nodded and sat in an awkward silence with the weird woman. Luckily, John was quick.
"Listen, your boss – any chance you could not tell him this is where I went?" John asked.
"Sure."
"You’ve told him already, haven’t you?"
"Yeah."
"Hey, um ... do you ever get any free time?" John started to ask. Oh John. I see what you're doing.
She chuckles.
" Oh, yeah... lots...Bye."
"Okay." 
We get out and close the door, then watch the car pull away before turning and walking across the pavement to the front door of 221B. He knocks on the door.
"Maybe next time John." I pat his back.