Sherlock - The Game Is On!

The Lying Detective- Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Gripping his hand, I hear the snapping of bone from his wrist. The door still begins to rattle and jolt from impact on the other side. Smith cries out in pain. "Lady Phillips!" Presumably an agent calls out.

Using all my preserved strength, I grab John's cane and strike Smith down.

The door, moments later, burst open. Four agents topple each other and fall to the ground. "Lady Phillips! You okay?"

"What were you doing to her?" Mary's voice calls out as she steps over the huddled agents. Smith whimpers plaintively. I trip towards the bed. "What were you doing?!" Mary yells, she drags Smith up and slams him against a wall. "She's in distress! I-I was helping her but she broke my wrist!"

"Yes, with good reason!" I nod to myself, agreeing with my statement. "Restrain him, now. Do it." Mary pushes Smith towards the men. "I was trying to help her!"

"Michelle, what was he doing to you?" Mary walks towards me. "Suffocating me, overdosing me." I point weakly towards the drug stand. "On what?"

"Saline."

"Saline?" She repeats. "Yeah, saline."

"What do you mean, saline?" I grown and breathe in a shaky breath. "Well obviously I got Nurse Cornish to switch the bags. She's a big fan, you know? Loves my work and the donations I do every year around London." Mary huffs out a breath and pulls me into a hug. "Oh god! You're alive!"

"I'm still high as a kite, you know. Of my tits on morphine, in fact." Mary sobs into my shoulder. "Mary as much as I love you, I want to take Smith to the station."

"No, you've not long woken up. If you want to go, I'm coming with you." I nod to the agreement whilst one agent takes his blazer of for me. I nod my appreciation. Mary sorts my drip out, removing it completely. "Let's go, then." I grab John's cane again and leave the room with a hospital gown, an agents blazer and fluffy socks on. "You do realise what your wearing?"

"Yeah, I know."

Scotland Yard

Mary and I walk along the halls with two agents in tow carrying Culverton Smith. "Michelle?" Anderson questions unsurely. "Your supposed to be in hospital." Donovan states. I look to them hazily, leaning my weight on the cane for support. "Oh, yeah. I know." I flick my hand in the air.

We continue to Lestrade's office. Opening the door, the agents throw Smith to the floor. "Hey, Greg." I smile, still high from medical usage, of course. Not for personal enjoyment. Greg stands up. "Michelle? You're alive!"

"Yes, yes. I know. The world can start spinning again on its twenty five degree axis, anyways..." I chuck the cane to him. "What going on?"

"Sherlock's right. I woke up this morning and caught up on news for the last few months I've been in a coma." I point to Smith. "There's the confession." I point to the cane. Mary looks to me unsurely. "Huh! I don't recall making any confession. What would I be confessing to?" Mary stamps on his leg to shut him up. "You can listen to it later. You ought to arrest him or something or another..." I gesture on, rolling my head side to side. "But there is no confession to listen to!" Smith insists.

"Twist the top." I gesture to the cane. Lestrade does so and a recording device falls out. "If that isn't enough evidence then I may as well tell ya. I'm sure he wouldn't mind confessing. Hell, I bet he would enjoy it." I trip back, Mary catches me in time. "Anyways, I want a fag. Greg, gis us one." He opens his draw and chucks me the pack.

I begin to walk away. "Michelle?" I turn my head to him. "Yes, Gregory?" He smiles and I roll my eyes before opening my arms. "Come on then, let's all hug Michelle." He runs. Literally pounces for the opportunity. "It's good to have you back."

After a moment of love, Greg gets to work with Smith whilst Mary and I walk behind the station to light our cigarettes. I lean most of my weight on the wall eventually leaning my head on Mary's shoulder. "We found your message." She says. I roll my head. "I thought so."

"John and I are getting couples councilling."

"I know." It was silent for a moment. She sniffs whilst I inhale. "How are you feeling?" I wave my hand around. "No, no, no. Don't ask me that. I detest it. I'm high... Let me believe the next couple of hours is sunshine and daises."

Third POV

Police Interview room

Greg reaches across to the side of the table and switches off the recorder. Smith sits on the other side of the table beside a woman who is his lawyer. Greg rests his elbow on the table and lowers his head into his hand, then rubs his eyes with his fingers and thumb. "It's funny, I... I never realised confessing would be so enjoyable. Guess Lady Phillips is correct!" He cackles.

Greg lifts his head, looking at him tiredly. "I should have done it sooner." Greg looks away. Disgusted. "We'll carry on tomorrow." He reaches for his jacket on the back of his chair. "Well, w-w-we could carry on now. I'm-I'm not tired. There's loads more." He stutters happily. "Tomorrow." Lestrade dismisses whilst putting on his jacket. "You know, I am gonna be so famous now."

"You're already famous." He responded grimly whilst he drinks from a polystyrene cup. "Yeah, but with this..." Culverton Smith looks down thoughtfully, his eyes wide. "I can break America." Greg stands up and walks away. Smith gazes into the distance, smiling delightedly.