Sherlock - The Game Is On!

A Study In Pink- Nine

Chapter Nine

"You think he's stupid enough to go there." Sherlock was striding ahead, whilst John was hurrying to catch him. I, however was setting my own pace, walking inbetween them. "No, I think he's brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones, they're so desperate to get caught."

"Why?"

"Because John, they desire appreciation! Applause! The spotlight!" I answered. "That's the frailty of genius, John it needs audience." Smiling cynically, John looked at Sherlock. "Yeah." Sherlock was practically skipping along the pavement, looking around the bustling town. "This is his hunting ground. Right here is the heart of the city. We now know the victims were abducted, and that changes everything. Because all of his victims disappeared from crowded places, from busy streets, but nobody saw them go. They walked out of their lives with a complete stranger, and trusted him right to the moment they swallowed his poison. He can do the impossible, this one, he needs to take a bow."

"If it was a 'he'. Why did the pink lady write 'Rachel'..." John asked, bemused. "Yes, that is odd but until we know who Rachel could be there is no point in speculating. We mustn't theorise in advance of the facts. Wouldn't you say so, Sherlock?" With his palms to his chin he deflected my question. "Think, who do we trust, even if we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?"

"Who?"

"Haven't the faintest. Hungry?"

Striding, walking and limping on, we made it to a small shabby looking Italian restaurant. Taking to our table near the window, overlooking Northumberland Street, a young man whisks away with the 'reserved' sign. "22 Northumberland Street. Keep your eyes on it."

"Sherlock!" A greasy little man, presuming to be the owner of this place, was delighted to see Sherlock. "Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free! All on the house, for you, your friend and date." I looked towards the man and noticed he was referring to Sherlock's 'date' to be John. "Do you want to eat?" Sherlock asked. "I'm not his date." John answered. The owner pointed to Sherlock "This man! Got me off a murder charge!"

"This is Angelo. Three years ago I successfully proved to Lestrade that at the time of a particularly vicious triple-murder, Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking." Sherlock introduced. "He cleared my name!"

"I cleared it a bit. Anything happening opposite?"

"We've been keeping an eye out." Angelo proceeded to show his phone to Sherlock. "Just this man, stopped for a minute." Squinting his eyes closer at the photo. "Oh, he's just drunk... Also married to his dog."

"We all are, in the end" Angelo responded. "Married with a dog? Keep our eyes peeled."

"Were on it..." Turning to John and I he carried on with conversation. "But for this man, I'd have gone to prison."

"You did go to prison." Sherlock counteracted. "I'll get you a candle for the table, more romantic." Passing menus to us John stated, amusingly to me anyways. "I'm not his date!"

"You may as well eat, we might have a long wait." Sherlock tossed the menu to the side, relapsing in his thoughts. John looked a little stranded. Angelo returned with a small candle giving John a cheery thumbs up. I laughed but was met with John's cold stare. "Thanks." Ordering a black tea, John ordered a bowl of pasta whilst Sherlock's eyes were focussed through the window.

"People don't have arch-enemies."

"I'm sorry?"

"In real life. There are no arch-enemies in real life, it doesn't happen." Sipping my drink I proceeded to listen. "Doesn't it? Sounds a bit dull."

"Don't know why he called you dramatic." Speaking into my cup sarcastically, rolling my eyes. Sherlock's eyes snapped to mine for a moment. How I could dive deep in those monochromatic eyes. "What do real people have then? In their real lives?"

"Friends. People they know. People they like, people they don't like. Girlfriends, Boyfriends." 

"Dull!" Sherlock and I answered. "Dull? So what am I then, Michelle?" Both men's attention now on me. Placing my cup back in its saucer I answered: "You John, are one out of many I choose to associate myself with, having things in common contributes to that I suppose. However, I don't think we have much in common besides our backgrounds."

"Right, yeah, thanks." I smirked. He knows I'm joking. "So. You don't have a Girlfriend then?" John asked Sherlock, side glancing at me. No John don't go there. Who would want me as the companion? "A Girlfriend? No, not really my area." Your so making yourself sound gay Mr Holmes... "Oh right, do you have a Boyfriend then?" I turned my head to the street, smiling to myself. "Which is fine by the way..."

"I know it's fine."

"So you've got a boyfriend then?"

"No."

"Right. Okay. Unattached. Like me. Fine, good."

"John, you should know, I consider myself married to my work, and while I'm flattered by your interest I'm really not looking for any kind of..."

"No, no, I wasn't asking you out, No! I'm just saying, it's all fine!" I couldn't contain myself any longer. I let out a long drawn out laugh. Clasping my hands together, to my chest I said: "Oh I'm so glad I've met you two gentlemen." Both pairs of eyes stared at me. They both eventually smiled. "But seriously, an archenemy, though what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh John, How I envy your plain mind. Its quite obvious. 'Arch enemies' plays tribute to their lives." John looked lost from me saying previous.

"Nothing in real life, apparently. Take a look across the street." Wait! Sherlock doesn't expect anything in life? Or doesn't he expect he deserves anything in real life? Damn I kind of feel that. "In a taxi! That's clever! Is it clever? Why's it clever?"

"That's him!" John stated, borderline excited. "John don't stare!"

"But your staring?"

"Well we can't all stare." Sherlock responded. Striding along Sherlock out of the restaurant, He sent a quick message. I noticed a man staring at us from the back of the cab. "I've got the cab's number." John stated. "Good for you." Sherlock stated mildly sarcastically. Clapping my hands I spit fired: "Okay so, Left turn, one way, roadworks, traffic lights, bus lane..." Sherlock voice rang over. "Pedestrian crossing, left turn only, traffic lights..." Not a moments notice, We both lunged into traffic. Shoving past people, entering apartments we race in the hallway. Climbing to the fire escape we started racing across rooftops. John running behind a little. Flinging ourselves through one last door. "Oi!"

"Sorry!" John responded, turning the right way now. Pelting along side streets we burst into traffic and... "Police, pull over, now. Pull over!"He demanded. Opening the passenger door we see a faintly startled man. Tanned and surrounded by travel cases. "No! Teeth, tan, what, Californian? LA, Santa Monica, just arrived."

"No, how could you..."

"The luggage John!" I gasped, panting for air. "Sorry, Are you guys the police?" The Californian man asked. "Yes. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah."

"Welcome to London." Sherlock then strides away leaving John and I there with the bemused man. "Any problems, just let us know." Slamming the car door John left and we head over to Sherlock who is leaning against a traffic barrier. "So... That was basically just a taxi that happened to slow down."

"Basically, yes." I responded. "Wrong country, good alibi."

"As they go." I now noticed, Sherlock had a police badge in hand, and John snatches it off him. "Where did you get this from? Detective Inspector Lestrade?" He reads, shocked. "Yeah, I pick-pocket him when he's annoying. Keep that one, Got loads at the flat." John looks at the card again before laughing. "What?"

"Nothing, just... Welcome to London!" We share a brief chuckle until we see the taxi pulled off in the distance. The passenger talks to a police officer pointing at us. Sherlock then looks back to us. "Got your breaths back?"

"We're ready when you are!" And with that, we start running like mad people back to Baker Street.