Sherlock: The Human Robot

3 - Life's A Game of Chess

"Tell me from the beginning, but don't be boring."
The client began to tell her story, and Sherlock sat in his chair waiting for a mystery to solve.
"Me and my two friends where headed to the bar, we ordered a drink each and just chattered. We had so much fun at the beginning..."
Sherlock sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "Yes, if you would skip to the part where your friend dropped dead, it'd be delightful," he said to the woman who looked a bit surprised and depressed.
"I don't know how it happened," she claimed and Sherlock could hear her sadness in her voice. "After we had finished our drinks, Tom suddenly fell on the floor. Peter and I ran over to him but it was too late...," she sobbed.
"Tom and Peter had the exact same drinks?" Sherlock asked the woman.
"Yes, whiskey with ice."
"And they got them at the same time?"
The woman nodded.
"How did they drink it?"
She looked at him. "What?"
"How, did they drink it?"
"Peter drank it all very quickly, but Tom took his time. I don't see what that has to do with it?" she curiously asked him.
"Everything," he said back.

He rose up from his chair, buttoned his black suit jacket and said; "The drinks where poisoned, both of them."
"Bu- but how? Peter is still alive, how?"
"The poison wasn't directly in the drinks liquid, it was in the ice. Now, Peter, you said, finished his drink quickly. While Tom took his time. That gave the ice time to dissolve in his drink and therefore he was poisoned, and not Peter." Sherlock sad this while walking back and forward in front of his upset client.

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"Checkmate!" Mary shouted happily, as she won another round of chess. "Oh, I've never understood this silly game!" you barked as you leaned back in the sofa. From the kitchen you could hear John chuckle. "I'm sure if you keep practice you'll get it eventually," he said.

"So, you up to something later?" Mary asked you. "Hm... not exactly. Perhaps try and find some more presents for Christmas. Still no clue what to give to Sherlock though."
"No he's a tricky one," John responded. "One year I gave him a jumper, and I still haven't seen him use it."
"I don't want to give him science equipments because he has that in the lab, and at home. He has enough of clothes."
"You could give him a kiss," Mary said while she looked in the newspaper. John dropped a cup on the floor so it crushed. "Damn it," he mumbled annoyed.
"What?" you asked Mary, shocked. "Would you stop with that? I don't like him that way," you rejected her. Mary sent you a lure smile.

"You like Sherlock?" John came in the living room. You sighed, rose up from the chair and put on your jacket. "For the last time, no I don't." You opened the front door and left before they could stop you.

It was cold outside. London had gotten the winter temperature, but without the snow. As you walked down the street, you were hit by wonderful smells of fresh bread from the bakeries and warm cocoa. It was midday and there were people selling Christmas decorations on the streets. For a moment, you just walked around and enjoyed the feeling that it was soon Christmas.

You felt a bit bad though, about leaving John and Mary like that, but you were tired of them joking with you like that all the time. Of course, you do care about Sherlock. You had been so downhearted and sad when you thought he was dead. You didn't feel happy during those two years he was gone. To be honest, it was the two longest years in your life. Yes, Sherlock could be rude and ignorant, but sometimes he showed a side of himself that barely no one thought he had.

He still hadn't told us what he did exactly those years he was gone. You knew he destroyed Moriarty's network, but you also knew there was more to it. Sherlock always avoided the subject when you brought it up, and Mycroft doesn't want to talk about it either. He always ends up saying that Sherlock is the one that has to tell you.

You struck down the thought and continued your walk for ten more minutes before your phone beeped. You took your phone out of your pocket and looked at the message.
"Baker Street. Come at once. SH"
"What are you up to now then?" you mumbled and found a cab.

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"What?! Who did?" you squeaked as you, Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock and John were in the living room inside 221B. "I don't know who they were, but they seemed to know you," Mrs. Hudson wept and looked at Sherlock. You all had a concerned expression on your faces. "But, what did they want?" John asked her. "Information," Mrs. Hudson responded. "About?" you asked. "Me," Sherlock said quietly.

After some silence, Sherlock turned to his desk and picked something up. "Mrs. Hudson got this in the post this morning," he said and held something that looked like a brick up for all of us to see.
"Is that a pawn? Like from chess?" John inquired. Sherlock nodded in response. "Just that, nothing else?" you looked at Mrs. Hudson, who shook her head, "No, that was all. I didn't know what it meant. I thought maybe someone was just messing with me, but then, those men came and..." she sobbed. You bent down and placed your arm on her back. "What did they do, exactly?" you asked her. "Well, I did the laundry as I do every Thursday and suddenly the doorbell rang..."

Earlier the same day
"Oh, hi. May I help you gentlemen?" Mrs. Hudson asked, as three men she'd never seen before stood outside 221B. "Yes, I hope so," said one of them. Two of the men dragged Mrs. Hudson inside and grabbed her by her arms. The third man closed the door. "Take her upstairs," he said to the other two.

The men put Mrs. Hudson on the chair that stood by Sherlock's table in the living room. "Now, if you do as I say, it will go much easier and less painful," the third man said. "What do you want?" Mrs. Hudson demanded to know. "I want information. Information about a certain man who you're renting this flat for," he said while lifting his arms to his side to state his point. "I won't tell you anything," she snapped back at him. The man sighed. One of the men behind her took a strong grip on her shoulder. "Hm, so you choose the hard way then?" the man in front of her asked as he walked up to her and punched her. "Ah!"

His ring left a scratch on her cheek. Mrs. Hudson still didn't say anything. "No matter how hard you try, you'll not get anything out of me," she stated. The man looked at her and a smile appeared on his face. "I believe you," he answered her. He nodded to his men who left the room and walked down the stairs. The third man started to follow before he turned and looked at Mrs. Hudson. "Don't think this is over. It has barely begun." Then he disappeared.

Present day
"I'll take a look at that," John said and pointed at the scratch on Mrs. Hudson's cheek. She rose up from the chair and John followed her into the kitchen.
"Do you have any idea who might be after you this time?" you asked Sherlock in a low voice. He looked at you, and it was just like he remembered something. But then he shook his head to answer your question. You sighed. You didn't want something like last time to happen again. If these men wanted information about Sherlock, they'll not stop until they get it. They will come back. As if Sherlock read your mind he said, while looking at the chess brick in his hand, "They will return. The question is... What they'll do next."