It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

43 - You'll Hate Me

Halfway home, it had started to rain. Gently at first and then more heavily as the icy drops pounded down on the concrete roads and pavements.

After Elizabeth had snuck past Mrs Hudson's apartment and back into 221B, she collapsed onto the sofa and cried. Partly out of relief, partly out of grief and partly out of guilt for feeling like she had abandoned Jim after he had done so much for her. Even at the end of it all, Jim still let her go.

Perhaps she would tell John and Sherlock about it when they finally came back, now that she had lived and survived through the ordeal that her decision had been made into? She hoped they were okay.

Sure enough, around three quarters of an hour later, the boys returned, drenched and muddy. When she heard their heavy steps coming up the stairs, she was quick to wipe the tears away from her eyes and stood to greet them.

She frowned at the sight of them.

Sherlock frowned at the sight of her, noticing the upset redness in her cheeks.

"What happened?" Elizabeth and Sherlock asked simultaneously.

"You first?" Elizabeth prompted, still unsure if she would tell them.

"Well, I can tell you that it's definitely blog material." John said, looking absolutely shattered.

"Sounds fun." Elizabeth stepped over to help Sherlock out of his coat, saddened by the sight of it, "This is going to need a wash - maybe two."

She held the drenched, dirty coat away from her and held out her other hand to take John's coat, kindly throwing them in the wash for the two men.

While she was out of the room, Sherlock mouthed to the doctor that something was wrong with her. John had agreed having also glimpsed her slightly pinkish face. She had stayed because she said she was sick but she didn't look hot and feverish - she looked more like she had been crying.

She returned to the lounge with two towels that she chucked at the two of them. They both started to try and dry themselves as best they could with the towels, but it was mainly their hair that they dried and only somewhat so. Deciding she wanted to avoid her conversation, she urged them to continue.

"Uh, the man thought there was someone else living in his house." John explained.

"Things had been going missing." Sherlock said, "In the night he heard strange noises. He had checked the loft, but no one was ever there. Naturally, he approached the police who also couldn't find anything wrong because they're stupid like that."

"Sometimes." John interjected.

"Yes. Fine. Sometimes. Turns out there was a large space under his staircase that someone was hiding in. He never realised you could get out from under and into it just by undoing a couple of screws."

"When we opened it, the man inside leapt out and started running. We ended up tackling him on the green outside, where it was quite slippery."

"Turns out the guy was a stalker. Never gave a reason why but I believe he had the intent to do him harm because of all the papers he had with scribbled down observations of our client. I believe he intended to take his place."

It must have been horrible not have felt safe in your own home. And for the crazy guy to have also been planning on replacing him? That made it even scarier. And yet scarier still was the fact that guy's motive was because Jim had supposedly organised. She wondered how.

"That's freaky."

"Ha, yeah. You can say that again." John stretched, "I have work in the morning so if you don't mind, I'll just head to bed."