"I need a Doctor" Post RBF Return -Sherlock/John

"Um. Ok. Right. I'll just phone Speedy's to see if they have enough. I'll just be a moment." Said John, walking into the kitchen (just in case Sherlock needed to go into him mind palace, for which he needed silence). He called the manager and asked if they would just put it by the bins, thank you, and told them to have a nice day.

He walked back into the living room to find Sherlock standing with hi back towards John, thinking. John crept up and put his arms around his flatmate's waist, just as Sherlock had done to him earlier.

"Do you need that cardboard now or later? It's out by the bins." He whispered, leaning his head to the side to see a bit of Sherlock's face.

Sherlock smiled at John who was cheekily peering at him with his arms fastened round his waist “Cardboard now, wrap Henry up, quickly! And keep away from the windows in case Moran is waiting with a rifle. I need to make a phone call.”

While John was wrapping the dummy Sherlock took their three bags down to the front door then made a short phone call.

Within fifteen minutes just as John had finished wrapping his parcel, a white minibus pulled up outside the house. “Grab our bag John, our taxi to the station is the minibus parked outside.” he snatched up the parcel and took it downstairs.

“Get straight inside the minibus as fast as you can, John, as soon as we are in the driver is setting off.”




(( we'll cut to arriving at the holiday cottage. ))

((So am I supposed to describe it? 'Cuz I'm not very good at describing))

(( no please don't describe the holiday cottage the layout is specific to using The Empty House as the basis. Have you read that story? ))

((Yeah, but not recently. So, per say, in memory? No. In real life yes))

John got the cardboard quickly and soon had Henry Fishgard the Dummy all wrapped up. He grabbed their bags and followed Sherlock hurriedly down the stairs. As soon as they were in the bus, they were off, John sitting beside Sherlock just like the old days.

Sherlock and John had to brace themselves to cope with the uncomfortable ride to Euston station, but were soon standing on Platform 12, in time for the Windermere train. Sherlock brought a book out of his holdall on Medieval Saints Manuscripts which helped pass the 3hour journey.

At the end of the journey Sherlock picked up the keys for the Land Rover and following John's excellent directions easily found their accomodation.

“Camden House, I think its nicer than the photo on the website, what d'you reckon?”Sherlock asked his friend as they drove past to enter the car park at the side of the building.


[Only admins are allowed to see this image]

((Gone for 3 days. Bye))

The trip seemed a bit shorter than it should have been, with Sherlock there. Talking at the speed of light, talking about his latest experiment or one of his favourite elements. John just smiled and nodded, even though he didn't understand some of what his friend was saying.

And then, later, he was reading the map, and Sherlock kept staring at him.

"Keep your eyes on the road, mate! You're drifting!" He chuckled.

When they finally arrived at Camden house, it was kind of... cute? If that was in fact the word for it, John wasn't sure.

"Yeah, much better than online. It's nice!" Smiled John.

Sherlock wandered round the side of the building and found that opposite the main building, in which they were in a room at the back, across a wide cobbled yard was the range of buildings he had been expecting to find . “Perfect” he said grinning broadly.

Sherlock was about to go into the pub at the front of Camden House and buy drinks then sit his friend down to explain his plan to John when his phone rang. “Sherlock Holmes” he responded to the call in his usual business-like tone.

“Ah, Greg, you have what?.....” There was a long pause while the detective listened to Lestrade giving him details.

“Where? Just a moment.” the detective turned to John. “ There's a case for us. Find Esterndale Water on the map, the car park. A woman was pulled from the lake an hour ago by two men who were fishing. Lestrade is at the scene and waiting for us."

John smiled as he remembered the Hound of the Baskervilles case, when Sherlock had seen Lestrade in the pub, and found that his first name was Greg. He chuckled, recalling the stunned 'Is it?'

John realised Sherlock was talking to him and quickly turned his attention to the detective. Esterndale Water.

"On it" he replied, getting out the map. He quickly found it and showed the place to Sherlock. "Here"

((Hey, sorry I was kinda short in telling you I was leaving, I had about three seconds to write the message, gather up my stuff, and get out the door.))

Sherlock hopped into the driving seat of the 4x4 and started the vehicle as John climbed in. The taller man sighed heavily. “I am not impressed with the local police, neither is Greg by the sound of it. They have no idea if it is accidental, a suicide or murder.”

The lake was not easy to find and it took nearly an hour of winding down minor roads that made London streets seem spacious before they reached the car park and swung in onto gravel. It was obvious where the scene of crime was by the gaggle of police officers.

Lestrade, catching sight of his favourite doctor and lanky detective friend, waved and beckoned them down. The path zig-zagged a rough hillside of grass dropping down to the lake.

Greeting the men Lestrade nodded “They found her handbag but it was open, her purse is there, so it's not robbery and as you can see there is no note, no marks on her, no signs of violence.”

Sherlock was already surveying the scene but was listening to Lestrade also. “There's no ID, presuming she had a phone it must have gone in the water” Greg suggested. He turned to Sherlock to make sure he heard “Or did her killer take it, you know like in the case of Jennifer Wilson?”

There was, as Lestrade had said, nothing to put a name or place to the young woman whose life had ended abruptly. She was in her mid twenties, pretty, blonde hair and blue eyed, and well dressed in a white and pale blue floral dress apart from her shoes which had not been found.

“Mm, drowned obviously, accidental.” Sherlock muttered and continued taking in the details, “What's your opinion John?”





((Usually happens I'm ready to go someone's not I start something while I'm waiting then I have to dash off like that. Ta for letting me know XD))

((Oh my Gawd. A very weird scene flashed through my mind. The dead lady riding a unicorn and suddenly she's thrown into the air and lands in the lake and as she cries for help, the unicorn is being ridden by Moriarty and both he and the unicorn are laughing maniacally. yikes, wat was in my tea this morning?))

"I'd have to agree with you Sherlock." replied John after examining the body "Water filled the lungs, oxygen leaves, she can't breathe, and she dies because no oxygen is being sent to the brain and her heart stops pumping." he recites quickly.

'But then again... If she was simply pushed or if she didn't have time to put up a fight, it would have been a murder... But what evidence do we have?' thought John, his brow furrowing.

((And I'm always able to count on every trip happening like that! Even trips to school! eugh, school... starts in one week... eugh))

((Indeed, what have you got in your tea, if it's not too much trouble do send me some XD ))

“You are right, John, she was pushed, but not by human hands.”
“Then how?” Lestrade who had detached himself from the local constabulary had been standing close by listening. Detective Inspector Hyssop, the local investigating officer, a stocky man with grey hair came across and joined the three men.

Sherlock grinned. “I'm surprised there is any evidence left after so many feet have been walking around but look here.” he pointed to ladies shoe marks in the soft mud of the bank.

“This,” the consulting detective pointed out “was where she was standing, probably making a phone call, the shoe marks are underneath another mark. That's a mark left when she slipped. Also have a look at her dress and her right arm. The fabric is pulled and her arm has a scratch mark.”

“There,” Sherlock indicated on the soft muddy shore and bank. “Is where the culprit ran up the bank. You are looking for a dog.”

“Her dog pushed her in, where's her dog then?” Lestrade's eyes were wide and his mouth was open.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and held his breath for a moment “She doesn't have a dog, it's someone else's.”

The faces now listening to the conversation looked blank except for John who was smiling.

“You can't tell it's not her dog? No?” Sherlock paused trying not to lose his patience.

Sherlock went still in that way of his when explaining his deductions and he spoke quickly. “She wouldn't have been walking a dog in shoes with such narrow heels, not here, the bank is too steep, her clothes are not a dog walker's first choice either, she hasn't even got a coat on.

"Most dog owners carry plastic poop bags, a lead, and maybe dog treats as well. There aren't any. Her phone is missing too, so where could it have been if it wasn't in her handbag? In her hand. Someone's dog ran up to her, she slipped in the water, probably got her shoes stuck in the mud, fell, the dog scratched her arm and dress, and she dropped her phone where she fell in.” he stopped and looked at John to see if he had explained it well for him.

A smile crept across John's face. There they were. Just like old times, solving crimes and getting into trouble. Though John was a bit confused, he let Sherlock talk and caught on immediately.

"Brilliant. As usual." Laughed John.

((Hehe, when you mentioned John smiling, I resisted the urge to make him giggle like the 10th Doctor in that one episode with the DoctorDonna and Rose and Donna and Martha. The place where Rose is telling him she wanted to come back and he laughed like: "Heehe"..))

((Oh lord help the Whovian mind.))

(( There's no hope for you my dear ))




Sherlock sidled up to Lestrade “Our not so dear friend Sebastian Moran is in for a surprise, do you think the local boys will come along tonight”.

“After that probably, but Mycroft has given them a boot up the jacksy, so they will be there like it or not. You said you wanted me to do something? You gonna tell me what'?” Lestrade grinned.

The consulting detective smiled wickedly “Come back with us and I'll show you. I'll explain what I'm going to do on the way.”

Sherlock called to John “Can you drive us back to Camden House please, I need to speak to Greg on the way,” he passed the ignition keys over.

((Don't I know it!))

John smiled.

"Sure thing!" He took the keys and started to the jeep with his friends behind him.

He got in started up the jeep. After Sherlock and Greg had gotten in, he took off down the road.

((Sorry about the short posts lately. Tired. Very. Tired.))

Lestrade and Sherlock settled themselves into the back seat.

“Lovely up here innt it, all this fresh air.” Lestrade grinned knowing that Sherlock didn't care where he was as long as a case was interesting. “You've not lost your touch have you!”

Sherlock attempted a smile but gave up half way through and pulling out his phone logged in to his website to check for anything new. There was another message from Avidfan
.
Sherlock spoke loud enough for John to hear and read out he message from Avidfan.

Dying to see me. How nice of you to take a holiday just to visit me. Avidfan


“That's from Sebastian Moran.” Sherlock added.

The detective turned to Lestrade “Moran knew I was alive because I was investigating him while I was 'dead' so he had a man watching John. His watchman followed John home and heard me playing my violin and reported back to Moran. Moran then sent an e-mail to John suggesting that I meet him. He runs a gambling business up here, a casino for hire at functions.”

Greg frowned “But you have come to him instead?”

Sherlock smirked and continued loudly enough for John to hear. “Yes, so that I control the meeting with Moran. We were followed as far as Camden House so Moran will know where to find me. I am fairly certain that he will come tonight with his favourite air rifle.”

Lestrade looked thoughtful “And the murder of Ron Adair? How do you know that Moran used that rifle?”

Sherlock continued “It's not an ordinary rifle, he had it specially made for sniper jobs. I'm laying a trap to catch him in the act. There are several buildings round Camden House to hide the police team in. All you need to do is make sure they are ready to catch him as soon as he fires the shot and recover the rifle and the bullet. You can arrest him for murder then.”

"So obviously Moran knows we're here, he was probably watching the whole time." Said John, glancing in the rear view mirror to look at Sherlock.

As he drove, he thought over what Sherlock was saying. His flatmate had set a trap for Moran. And when he came to Camden House he would be caught, along with his rifle and- oh! His bullet! Henry Fishgard was probably a decoy Sherlock for Moran!

"Does this have anything to do with Henry?" Queried John, realising that he was very late when it came to figuring out what that man was doing. He would have to get better.

((Its ok, John, you are just stupid in that one area!))

Lestrade, frowning, looked to John “Who is Henry?”

The tall detective was delighted with John at being a step ahead of Lestrade as usual. Sherlock chuckled, his friend was correct “Ha,” he exclaimed happily “It has everything to do with Henry.”

The three men split the work of carrying in the baggage from the vehicle up to the bedroom in John and Sherlock's little cottage when they arrived at Camden House.

Sherlock smirked “There are sufficient hiding places in the pub and this cottage for your local police officers, the fewer the better though, so that there's less stupid about. We need to leave Moran a choice of places out there to get a clear shot from.”.

Lestrade whistled in awe of the meticulous planning when Sherlock showed him the view from the window of their accommodation. The single window looked straight out across a concrete yard to a dilapidated cottage and other empty buildings.

Sherlock grinned and seated himself in a comfy armchair “John, would you like to unwrap Henry and introduce him to Greg?”

John beamed with pride. Yes, he knew it was sort of embarrassing to be so proud of just one thing, but sometimes with Sherlock he needed every ounce of pride he could get. But Sherlock was getting better.

They all sat in the main part of the cottage, with Sherlock and Lestrade in the armchairs and John leaning against the wall.

John smiled at Greg's impressed expression. He smiled at Sherlock and got up to get Henry.

Thank God he doesn't weigh as much as Sherlock. Thought John as he lugged Henry over to them. He pulled out his pocketknife and cut the stings he had used for extra help and unwrapped the dummy. He stood him upright in front of his two friends and chuckled, "Here he is, Greg! The rich and prestigious, not to mention fake Henry Fishgard the Dummy!"

((Hey, sorry I haven't replied, I just started school and, God, I'm tired. Replies might be spotty))

(( no problem, take it easy ))



Lestrade looked at the dummy then to John. And back to Sherlock. John was still beaming Sherlock noted and he grinned back. John had obviously worked out what the plan was. He explained for Lestrade what he intended to do.

“Now, I'd ask you to post a man here but I need to be able to trust him and the local force doesn't fill me with confidence. “

Lestrade nodded his agreement “Not the sharpest boys I agree, but I would say reliable, so give.”

“Very simple. Moran will know I'm here and he'll take a shot at me, the rifle is a one off design that takes soft nosed revolver bullets. He's almost as good a shot as John so I don't intend to chance being the target.”

Greg nodded “Ballistics will match the bullet to the rifle, if he fires it, but how do you intend to get him to fire the rifle?”

Sherlock grinned and looked at John. “We'll dress Henry the dummy in my clothes in that blue bag and we will put him sitting in a chair in that window. Henry will be in silhouette. It will look near enough like me to pass.”

"Brilliant!" John laughed, laying the dummy by Greg's chair and then going to sit againts the wall.

John was happy that they had a case again. Planning to catch a criminal with Greg and Sherlock just.... felt right.

And at the same time, they were catching the man who wanted to kill Sherlock. Well that surely wasn't going to happen, not while John was around.

"Moran will probably take the shot as soon as he can. When will this all happen?" Asked John, turning to look questioningly at Sherlock.

((My religion problems have been solved. Sorry I had to leave. Back now.))

((Good, and I'm really pleased you are back, there's nothing you need apologise for ))




Sherlock grinned happily at John who was laughing again. He liked to see John so happy. It didn't matter to him that this case could be especially dangerous because John; loyal, intelligent, honest, steadfast, strong, a man he could trust with his life, his John, was there by his side.

The detective glanced at Lestrade “John's right, Moran will be eager to take the shot” he turned his eyes back to John “I'm fairly certain he'll come tonight. I'm hoping he will.”

Greg glanced back to the dummy. “You think he'll come to your room?”

Sherlock grinned “Not his style, he's a sniper, with a specialist's rifle. He'll find himself a place out there from which to take his shot after dark. The important part is as long as someone careful and completely trustworthy moves the dummy every 15 minutes or so if Moran sees it moving he will be convinced it's me.”

“One shot at this then. No pun intended” Lestrade remarked frowning and thinking. “I'll do it. I'll move your Henry, where will you be?”

“Thank you, Greg “Sherlock was relieved that Lestrade had offered “John and I will be hiding nearby observing and we'll be ready for him but the local boys must wait, Moran must be allowed to take his shot so that you can arrest him in possession of the firearm.”

Greg was nodding even as Sherlock spoke. “I agree, I don't like it...but I agree. He has to have fired before we arrest him. I'll tell the local team that I'll make sure that they are all posted to the Outer Hebrides and will spend the rest of their careers rescuing cats from trees and helping old ladies cross the street if they cock this up.”

“John and I will go have a look at the buildings across the courtyard for a suitable place to watch from then.” The detective rubbed his bony hands together gleefully and got up from his seat.

“Come on John.” he called as he was going to the door and, looking over his shoulder checked that John was following.

Lestrade caught flat footed by the speed at which Sherlock had got up and gone to the door jumped up from his chair and had to hurry to catch up.

The three men went outside and Lestrade began making a phone call while Sherlock and John took a look at the buildings opposite their room window.

((Sorry. School is bad for roleplay ideas.))