SHERLOCK I, II, III & IV • #wattys2016

hostages

Sherlock entered into the tunnel, the smell of gun smoke still emitting in the air. He saw that Simon and Charlie had been taken captive, seeing by the scuff marks on the concrete and the way the mud from their shoes dragged out of the tunnel and to the immediate right. Tracking them wouldn’t be hard, as the men who grabbed them left plenty of signs of their whereabouts. Keeping his senses open to anything unusual, but maintain a casual poise, Sherlock followed the mud tracks. As he walked, cold flaps of wind flicking his face, Sherlock began thinking of the next step. He was aware the men could’ve taken a cab, or even left the country completely, but wherever they’d gone, he knew they’d leave a trace.

The mud trail soon faded into the pavement, leaving Sherlock standing in front of the entrance to a consignment store. One of his eyebrows rose and then fell into a suspicious squint. He placed a hand lightly on the uneven surface and ran it all the way until it landed on the cold, glass door. The shop was closed, but that didn’t stop Sherlock. Using his hands as blinders, he peeked inside and saw the mud tracks on the ivory floor. He smiled and, digging deep into his pockets, he took out a hairpin that he carried around with him for such times, picked the lock. The door opened and he slipped inside. He went straight to the back of the room to the security cameras.

He looked up at the monitor that had an image of the front door. They had caught him on tape. Gnawing on his bottom lip, Sherlock took a seat in front of the computers and pulled the keyboard out. He turned the hard drive around to him, examining all the cords. He unplugged several cords and then plugged them in again, rebooting the computers. The monitors flickered on again and a username and password centered on the screen. Sherlock smirked as he dove under the desks. He traced his finger underneath the corkboard desks and then scrambled around the through loose papers. When he didn’t find what he needed, he opened all the cabinets (unlocking those with the hairpin as needed), and then flipped through all the books laid out.

At last, he came across a small sticky note. A faint number was written in the corner. Taking his seat again, he typed in the code and the screen changed to a desktop. Sherlock placed the paper back where it belonged in between the leaves of a nutritional book. He knew someone would write it down—especially with all the codes a business must create for different accounts. Once he was on the desktop, he maneuvered his way to the control use of the tapes. When he found the camera he had been captured on, he rewound the tape and paused it right before he steps into frame. He kept it on pause and ran out of the room. Instead of exiting the building, he followed the muddy footprints to the delivery room.  The door handle was locked.

Groaning in frustration, he took out his hairpin and tried the lock. But it didn’t work, in fact, the small piece of metal snapped. Sherlock groaned even louder and walked back to the security room to fetch the homeless screw driver he had spotted upon his arrival. He returned to the door handle and unscrewed the handle and base. Once those parts were removed, he used his spidery fingers to manually work the lock loose. It took his fingernails and the tip of the screwdriver to finally unlock the door. He smiled in his accomplishment as he screwed the compartments back in place. He then pulled the door open and ran inside. The room was lit, which was surprising to him, but also a clue that someone had been in there. As he walked amongst the boxes and pulleys, he heard whimpering and whispering. It took him all about five seconds to run down a wall of boxes, turn to his right, and skid to a halt. There, right in front of him, was Elise and Mrs. Hudson.

“Oh, Sherlock!” Mrs. Hudson declared through puffy, red eyes. “How did you ever come across us?”

Elise’s little head peeked out from the landlady’s arm and she gave the detective a quivering smile. “You saved us,” she said most quietly.

Sherlock leaned down in front of them and was happy to see that they hadn’t been harmed. “I’m going to let you out, but I’m looking for Charlie Garner and another man named Simon. You didn’t seem them, did you?”