Chapter Text
“I can’t believe this! I’m the best detective here, you can’t..”
“And that is why they have asked for you, Lucinda.” Joe wipes his forehead in frustration.
“Really, and don’t they have someone over there already? Sherlock Holmes?”
“Yes, but they wouldn’t say much.” He plays with his fingers on his leg.
“Who is they?”
“Well, Detective Inspector Lestrade.”
“Hmm..”
“Look, it’s a temporary thing, help them with a few cases, then you can come back home.” Again with the wiping.
“I really don’t see the point.”
“You never do. And yet, here you are.”
“You are lying to me. You need me here more than they do.”
“No…” I raise my eyebrow at him, “Yes, I do need you, but they clearly need your help. I didn’t get much details, but I think this will be good for you. Honestly, things around here are settled, and yes, because of you, I think we can handle a couple of months.”
“Fine, Joe. I will go. But trust me, if I get bored..”
“I know, you will come back. They understand that too.” He smiles. “Just play nicely.”
“Don’t I always?”
“Try to make some friends, it’ll be good for you.”
“I don’t need friends.” He raises an eyebrow. “I’ve already got you, that’s enough.”
----
“Would you like something to drink?” The flight attendant asks.
“Iced water.”
“Nothing stronger, first class gets free drinks.”
“Just the water, thank you.”
She smiles and walks away.
“So, are you a lawyer?” She asks.
“Tell your friend that I am not interested, especially not in someone who sends his colleague to find out information and doesn’t have the balls to come ask himself. But just to satisfy your curiosity, and his, no I am not a lawyer.”
“I apologize..”
“Don’t apologize. You shouldn’t let him talk to you into these sort of situations. You should have some self respect also. Not just because the two of you dated at some point means that he can manipulate you like this.”
“How did you know?”
“Just a lucky guess. Now, if you don’t mind.” I say waving her off.
She half smiles and walks away.
I sigh as we finally land in London. Customs wasn’t as bad as I had expected.
“Ms. Mitchell?”
“Yes.”
“Welcome, I’m Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade.” He extends his hand.
I take it and shake it firmly.
“Now, can you explain to me why I was asked to come here?”
“You are one of the best investigators out there..”
“Yes, I know that already. And you also have one here. Sherlock Holmes. So, tell me, why am I here?”
“Please, walk with me, it’s best we talk in private.”
He puts my luggage into the trunk of his car and then opens the door for me.
As he begins driving he starts explaining.
“Sherlock has gone missing. We believe he’s been taken hostage.”
“How long since you’ve last seen him?”
“A month. In the beginning we thought he might be into a case, but as the weeks went by, and no one heard anything from him, we began to worry. We’ve searched his flat, and there are no signs of struggle.”
“So, he’s disappeared before?”
“Only when he’s been doing research for a case, but he’s usually only gone for a few days.”
“What about Dr. John Watson? Does he know anything?”
He raises a questioning eyebrow.
“I read both their files, Detective. I wasn’t about to come in blind.”
“Right. Well, he received a text a few days ago. That’s when we decided to search for someone to help.”
“Someone like Mr. Holmes.”
He nodded.
“Fine. I’ll do what I can. Take me to his home. I want to look around.”
He texts someone, who I believe is John Watson.
As we arrive at Sherlock’s home, I see a man standing by the door. I recognize him immediately.
“Mr. John Watson. I’m Lucinda Mitchell.” I extend my hand and he takes it.
“Nice of you to come.” He tells me and opens the door. “She’s nice.” I hear him whisper.
“I’m not here to make friends, I assure you that.” I tell both of them as we walk upstairs.
One of them clears their throat.
“You are certain nothing has been taken?” I ask looking around.
“Nothing. Everything is here.”
“Can I see the text?” I ask.
‘No need to worry Dear John. I have Sherlock. And he’s very happy here.’ And it had a picture of Sherlock tied up and beaten. Blood all over his chest.
“Have you tried tracing it?” I ask still looking at the photo.
“Yes. But we weren’t able to get a location.”
“Does Mr. Holmes have a cell phone? Did he take it with him?”
“We found his mobile in his room just yesterday.” John tells me clearly upset.
“Do you mind if I send this to my cell?” I ask him.
“No, go ahead.”
I hand him his cell phone once I send the picture and text to my phone.
“A woman has taken him. Someone who is fascinated with Mr. Holmes.” I tell them.
“What?” Lestrade asks.
“How can you be sure?” John asks.
I hold the urge to roll my eyes.
“A man wouldn’t send you a text saying Dear John. Only a woman would. It’s someone you and Sherlock know. A woman clearly upset with him. And who has the means on luring someone, even as clever as Sherlock into a trap. By my guess, she sent someone here, asking for help. He found it simple, and took the case. He decided on not calling you John, since it was a small case. While he went into his room he changed his coat, where he left his cell. Went on his way, and unfortunately for him, he didn’t come back.”
They both have their mouth open.
“How do you know she sent someone?” John finally says.
“There are two cups of tea here. And one of them has a lipstick stain on it.” I say pointing to the cups.
“It can’t be Irene Adler. She was infatuated with Sherlock, but I doubt she would do this to him.” John said.
“I thought she was dead.” Greg said.
“No. She’s alive.”
“And you are sure it’s not her?” I ask.
“She’s currently not in London.” John assures.
“Are you sure about that?” I ask again.
“We could go and have Mycroft help with that. I’m sure he would like to meet you.”
“We can go tomorrow. I’m sure Ms. Mitchell is tired from the flight.”
“It’s fine. I want to find Mr. Holmes. He seems to be badly hurt.” I tell him.
“Let me phone Mycroft.” John tells me and steps into the kitchen.
I walk toward the window. I close my eyes and all I could see was Sherlock being beaten. We needed to find him soon.
A month of that. I wasn’t sure he would last much longer alive. He was being tortured.
“Mycroft isn’t able to see us tonight. But he assured me that Irene is currently France.” John said.
“Help me out here Mr. Watson. There must be someone else. Another female he has encountered, someone he pushed away. Someone that knows him.”
“Not that I know of. Sherlock doesn’t have many friends. Let alone girlfriends.”
I start pacing around the small space of apartment.
‘Common Sherlock. Give me something.’ I thought and pinched the bridge of my nose.
“A computer, does he have one?” I ask suddenly and both men jump.