The Case of Elaina

The Great Game [5]

Close to the river, the police had arrived at a large open space where the car was found.

Forensics officers in protective clothing were working on the car as Lestrade led Sherlock towards it.

John and Sally Donovan were walking along behind them.

"The car was hired yesterday morning by an Ian Monkford. Banker of some kind; City boy." Lestrade explained "Paid in cash," he nodded towards where a woman was talking with another officer. 'Told his wife he was going away on a business trip, but he never arrived,"

Donovan nodded towards Sherlock "You're still hanging around him,"

"Yeah, well..." John shrugged.

"Opposites attract, I suppose,"

"No, we're not..."

"You should get yourself a hobby-stamps, maybe. Model trains. Safer," Donovan went to stand beside Lestrade as Sherlock leaned into the car to look at a large amount of blood smeared over the island between the two front seats.

Sherlock opened the glove box.

"Before you ask, yes, it's Monkford's blood," Lestrade noted. "The DNA checks out,"

Sherlock found a business card in the glove box and took it out. "No body,"

"Not yet," Donovan proclaimed.

"Get a sample sent to the lab," Sherlock said as he walked over to the woman who had been talking with the police officer. "Mrs. Monkford?"

The woman turned to Sherlock tearfully "Yes. Sorry, but I've already spoken with two policemen,"

"No, we're not from the police; we're..." John started to say.

Sherlock held out his hand to Mrs. Monkford "Sherlock Holmes. A very old friend of your husband's. We, um...we grew up together,"

"I'm sorry, who?" Mrs. Monkford asked confused "I don't think he ever mentioned you,"

"Oh, he must have done. This is... is horrible, isn't it? I mean, I just can't believe it. I only saw him the other day. Same old Ian-not a care in the world,"

"Sorry, but my husband has been depressed for months. Who are you?"

"Really strange that he hired a car. Why would he do that? It's a bit suspicious, isn't it?"

"No, it isn't. He forgot to renew the tax on the car, that's all,"

"Oh, well, that was Ian! That was Ian all over!"

"No, it wasn't,"

Sherlock quirked an eyebrow "Wasn't it? Interesting," he turned and walked away.

Mrs. Monkford turned to the female officer she had been talking with previously "Who was I talking to?"

John hurried after Sherlock as he ducked under the tape "Why did you lie to her?"

"People don't like telling you things, but they love to contradict you. Past tense, did you notice?"

John shook his head "Sorry, what?"

"I referred to her husband in the past tense. She joined in. Bit premature-they've only just found the car,"

"You think she murdered her husband?"

"Definitely not. That's not a mistake a murderer would make,"

"I see." John shook his head "No, I don't." he looked at Sherlock "What am I seeing?" he sighed when Sherlock didn't respond "Where now?"

"Janus Cars," Sherlock handed the business card to John "Just found this in the glove compartment,"

***

Sherlock and John were in the office of Janus Cars.

"Can't see how I can help you gentlemen," The owner of Janus Cars proclaimed.

"Mr. Monkford hired the car from you yesterday," John noted.

"Yeah. Lovely motor. Mazda RX-8. Wouldn't mind one of them myself.

Sherlock pointed out at the view room "Is that one?"

"No, they're all Jags." The owner smirked "Yeah, I can see you're not a car man, eh?"

"But, er, surely you can afford one-a Mazda, I mean?"

"Yeah, it's a fair point. But you know how it is: it's like working in a sweetshop. Once you start picking at the licorice allsorts, when does it all stop, eh?" The owner scratched near the top of his left arm with his right hand.

"But you didn't know Mr. Monkford?" John questioned.

"No, he was just a client. Came in here and hired one of my cars. No idea what happened to him. Poor sod,"

"Nice holiday, Mr. Ewert?" Sherlock wondered.

"Eh?"

"You've been away, haven't you?"

"Oh, the-the..." Mr. Ewert gestured towards his tanned face "No, it's, er, sunbeds, I'm afraid, yeah. Too busy to getaway. My wife would love it, though-bit of sun,"

"Have you got any change for the cigarette machine?"

"What?"

"Well, I noticed one on the way in and I haven't got any change." Sherlock offered Mr. Ewert a banknote. "I'm gasping,"

"Um, well..." Mr. Ewert reached into his trouser pocket and took out his wallet. "Hmm." he opened his wallet and looked inside "No, sorry,"

"Oh well." Sherlock shrugged "Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Ewert. You've been very helpful. Come on, John,"

John reached for his wallet once they left the office "I-I've got change if you still want to, uh..."

"Nicotine patches, remember?" Sherlock patted his arm "I'm doing well,"

"So what was that all about?"

"I needed to look inside his wallet,"

"Why?"

"Mr. Ewert's a liar,"