SHERLOCK I, II, III & IV • #wattys2016

What Will Interest You?

With his brooding eyes lowered in intense concentration, Sherlock Holmes studied a group of swimming organisms under his microscope. With methodical precision, he turned the controls on the side, adjusting the focus point until it was clear enough for him to identify the whole source of organisms. A smile crinkled one side of his cheek as he sketched out his new-found information on the tablet beside him.

The door to his lab swung open and his several-inches-shorter partner, John Watson, wandered into the room. With one look at him, Sherlock could read plainly that something was on his mind.

"How you getting on, Sherlock?" John asked with a casual sigh. He looked around the lab, noticing how remarkably clean it was. Unlike his past entrances, he'd usually be tripping over unopened boxes, test tubes, and wires. This time, John was hit by a strong cleaning fragrance and squeaky clean floors.

"Please don't touch that," Sherlock said bluntly, causing John to draw his hand back to his side. In an exhalation, Sherlock said, "John, what are you doing here?"

Surprised at such an unusual question coming from his companion's lips, John replied with an abrupt, "Sorry?"

"Won't repeat it."

Clearing his throat, John said, "Well, wouldn't you have figured it out already? And why is this place so clean?"

"I dropped a bleeding carcass, literally. Anyway, my brain's tired at the moment. Also, your talking helps me think," Sherlock mumbled, rubbing his strained eyes.

"Well, I just read the paper. About the girl last night?"

"Boring."

John scoffed and rocked back on his heels at Sherlock's callous remark. Though his friend had always done that, John found this time to be more disrespectful. "She was raped and her neck snapped, Sherlock. Lestrade and his men found her body early this morning in the eastside alleyway."

"Pass me that tube, will you, John?" Sherlock extended his hand towards John while keeping his eyes on his work.

John pursed his lips and obediently marched over to Sherlock's equipment. With an attitude in his wrist, he slapped the glass cylinder into Sherlock's hand and then jammed his hands into his pockets. "All right, well then, I don't think you'd be interested that the killer carved a "W" and an "S" in her wrist along with a message we can't make out."

"Probably initials left to just drive the officers in a mindless puzzle. Killers love to leave false clues. Doesn't interest me." Sherlock looked up from his microscope and smirked. "Though, you wouldn't come to me unless you knew there was something else that would interest me. Or, is that all?"

In unhurried steps, John made his way over to his friend. He cleared his throat with a light tut-tut and said through a small grin, "Sherlock."

Hearing a small ring of excitement in John's voice, Sherlock's eyes lifted and he stared at his friend impatiently. "What?"

"She's still alive."