My Detective (Sherlock Holmes)

Chapter Five

ST BARTHOLOMEW’S HOSPITAL
3rd Person

Sherlock had brought the trainers to a lab, and was currently putting on a pair of latex gloves while looking closely at them. He picks them up, examining the laces carefully and peers at the shoes from all directions, then digs out a dried mud from the treads in the soles and puts it into a dish. Putting the shoes down again, he looks at them thoughtfully. John and Scarlett sat together talking, bored.

Later on, Sherlock was sitting at a bench looking into  microscope while, beside him, a computer screen shows that a scanner of some sort is running tests. Being in a lab, like such was new to me, and I was completely useless at chemistry. Sherlock was explaining everything to me, what he was doing what types of machines there were and what they were doing, I was like a child asking a new question every 5 minuets, I thought he would've gotten annoyed at me by now, but he answered them calmly. John was wandering up and down on the other side of the bench.

"So who d'you suppose it was?" He asked. Sherlock suddenly received a text, the trill of the ringer going off. He sat absently, ignoring the alert. "Hmm?" He mumbled.

"What are you talking about John?" Scarlett asked confused. He rolled his eyes at his flat mate, "The woman on the phone -- the crying woman".

I had an O face, and was about to answer when Sherlock beat me to it.

"Oh, she doesn't matter. She's just a hostage. No lead there".

John seemed tense and exasperated at this. "For God's sake, I wasn't thinking about leads".

Scarlett

My phone had been vibrating in my pocket none stop. It was Mycroft asking about the case. I quickly looked at all 7 of the messages on my lit up phone screen, and decided to ignore them. I should look into his case when we returned to the flat.

"Are-are they trying to trace it, trace the call?" I tuned back into to John asking.

"The bomber's too smart for that" I quickly agreed with Sherlock. It would be quit nice if the bomber was that stupid. Sherlock's phone suddenly went off again. "Pass me the phone" He said in general.

John and I glanced around the room, but I don't remember Sherlock ever taking his phone out of his pocket. "Where is it?" I asked.

"Jacket".

John straightened up slowly, his entire body going rigid in disbelief and his eyes broadcasting the message "I am going to kill him". I giggled at him before I lifted a hand up to say "I got it" he nodded, relief washing over him.

I was after all already sitting next to him. I slowly reached down and into his jacket pocket feeling around. Sherlock moved a funny way, "Careful" He snapped at me. John's face was going red, and I simply ignored Sherlock. My fingers grazed over the hard surface before pulling it out.

I looked at the screen as it lit up, "Its a text from your brother, he's been none stop texting me the same things"

"Delete it" I nodded and did as he said.

"Delete it?" John asked in disbelief.

"John the missile plans are out of the country now. Nothing we can do about it" I shrugged my shoulders at him. I looked at the message one last time, which read:

RE: BRUCE-PARTINGTON PLANS 
Any progress on Andrew 
West’s death? 

-Mycroft lo

"Well, Mycroft thinks there is. How many times has he text you both? It must be important" John urged.

Sherlock raised his head in annoyance and exasperation. "Then why didn't he cancel his dental appointment?". John sighed and I stretched my tired muscles listening as the boys bickered.