SHERLOCK I, II, III & IV • #wattys2016

Last Phone Call

Sherlock stopped to take a moment to examine all the dials, buttons, wheels, gauges, handles, thermometers, and screens lay out on three large panels. Tucking the envelope and keys in his back pocket, he studied the panels before his hands confidently flew to two switches and one handle. The machine remained stationary, and Sherlock began doubting the controls he had woken up. Putting a finger on his bottom lip, he tapped it in thought.

“Oh, the bearings!” Sherlock chuckled to himself. “I think it’d be smart to know where I am.” Sherlock pushed a pile of pages off on of the panels and revealed a map of his location. One brow twitched and he looked up in contemplation. “England? Why England, Evangeline?” He pulled his wrist up to check the time before he remembered of its confiscation.  “Wish I had my mobile.” He shrugged and went over to the microscope. Picking it up lovingly, he blew lightly over the eyepiece and took a seat on the captain’s chair.

He twisted and prodded at the controls and lightly twisted the light bulb. Meaning just to tinker, he was delightfully surprised when the light flipped on. “Brilliant!” Sherlock pulled out the turned-inside-out envelope and fixed it under the microscope. Smiling, he whispered, “There you are.”

Two hours passed and Sherlock turned his eyes from the microscope to rub his strained face. Sighing and blinking, he looked up for a refreshing view, only to be greeted by Evangeline. Sherlock, not breaking their eye contact, carefully placed the microscope on the floor. “Hello, Evangeline.”

“Sherlock,” she replied softly, her hands on her hips. “Do you want to know why I’m here?”

Taking in a deep breath, Sherlock replied with no disruption in his sentences, “You wouldn’t have come in here if you didn’t have a form of protection. You already know I can overpower you, so, you’re simply in here to present a threat, a negotiation, or a warning. And seeing the reflection of your mobile in the steel equipment behind you tells me you just made a phone call. And to whom, I wonder?” Standing up and placing his hands behind his back, the detective continued, “The submarine is headed for England. I’ve been wondering why, and the only conclusion is that London is where you’d like me to complete my mistake. England, my hometown, is where you want me to die in whatever failure you’ve created.”

“Keep going,” Evangeline said breathlessly, “you’re getting warm.”

“You phoned the Americans. Why would you phone the Russians—they’ve done their part. The Americans have John. You’ve called them to bring John to England so that he can watch me fail.” Sherlock walked right up to her and placed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “What did I get wrong?”

“The message,” she replied promptly and through a sly smile. “And I don’t mean the math formula.”

Raising an eyebrow and bobbing on his toes, Sherlock paced the control room. “A message?”

“A surprise message; you’d like it.” Evangeline began walking, too, until they both were circling one another.

“Does the message have to do with Arthur Mitchell?”

“In every way,” she replied, taking long pauses between each word. “You see, Sherlock Holmes, it was fun hearing about your fake death, and how Moriarty killed himself in hopes that he would kill you. It was also fun hearing about how you solved Henry Knight’s case, and about the countless times you saved The Duchess’s life. Now, who’s going to save yours when they realize that Sherlock Holmes never existed?”

Sherlock stopped in his tracks and pondered on her words. He thought about this alias she had made up and how she wanted him to destroy himself and John’s. He thought about her dealings with hundreds of criminals—he knew she knew plenty. Why would she choose Arthur Mitchell? And most of all, why did she want him to be him? Stroking his hand over his newly cropped hair, Sherlock laughed softly. “Oh, you clever devil.”