A rose in London

6. A fight for answers

The next door was shut, presumed locked. Sherlock knocked to make sure no one was inside, but there was no answer. The detective knelt down to get to work on picking the lock open. You stood behind him watching him do his thing, but the urge to try the door became to great. With a good kick to the door, it swung open easily.

"Smart." You heard from behind you. You turned around to see John had come back. You were amused by the idea that he couldn't just keep away. He loved this too much to give it up entirely, even if Mary was waiting for him.

"Yes." Sherlock agreed, looking at you proudly.

"You may the most intelligent person I have ever met, but sometimes you should just try the door." You grinned, stepping into the room. "I find most doors tend to be either unlocked, or are old enough to be broken into with a firm kick."

"How many doors have you kicked down?" Sherlock asked, curious.

"A few."

"You have me for exactly ten minutes." John announced, walking into the room. "He clearly felt something was coming to get him."

Littered around the dusty old room were several traps. John activated one with his cane.

"Something did." Sherlock confirmed.

You looked around carefully. You didn't want to touch anything in case you messed with a crime scene. You didn't need Sherlock getting upset with you over something like that.

"Irene Adler was here."

You looked at Sherlock. For some reason she really bothered you.

"That or the ginger midget wore Parisian perfume."

You smiled subtly. He saw it.

Sherlock took a deep inhale. "Putrefaction." He spoke as that was a perfectly normal scent. Though in this place, it may well have been. In the next room was what you could only describe as science experiments.

It smelt bad, however. Both John and yourself had to cover your noses.

Looking around, John came to the conclusion that the man was trying to combine some form of sorcery and scientific formula. You weren't an expert, but you figured that even for an expert this was far fetched. If this was made possible, not that you understood all his notes, but this might explain how a dead man suddenly lives once more.

Sherlock found some pages, burnt up, erased from whatever notes had been on them. He was covering up his finding, it would seem.

As the detective took a look at the experiments on the table behind you, John got to work on trying to figure out what was on the paper. You watched with great interest as something became visible on the top of the page. A crest.

"Holmes."

Sherlock turned around and looked at what John had discovered.

"He was working with Blackwood."

"Of course he was. Question is: To what end?"

The three of you left that and returned to the main entrance.

"Whatever he was working on, he clearly succeeded." Sherlock gave a swing of his cane.

"How so?" You asked.

"Otherwise, he'd still be alive."

"Which is why Miss. Adler is so desperate to find him." John said.

"Yes. There is one scent I can't quite put my finger on." Sherlock hummed in thought.

"What scent?" You asked softly.