221c - A Sherlock Fanfiction

Sherlock

Hey all! Sorry this section is kinda short. I ran out of things to say from Sherlock's perspective. In retrospect, I could've probably made it all from Ally's point of view, but hey. Why not change things up a bit?

You guys really are the greatest. I have over 1,000 reads! That's huge for me! And you guys are saying such nice things about this story! Thank you for hanging in there with me!

Cheers!

-Lai

She came in up the stairs wearing a tan Land's End jumper, jeans, and brown combat boots. Her hair was kind of haphazardly pulled into a messy bun, and she had put her contacts in. She looked adorable, but still, however, looked groggy as hell.

"Hello, Ally!" I said, looking up.

"Hey."

"I see you've gotten dressed."

"Begrudgingly so."

I chuckled. "Oh, c'mon, it's not that bad."

"I guess not." she plopped down next to me on the floor, careful not to disturb any of the photographs I had lying out. "So, what happened? Who's the victim? How'd they die?"

I cleared my throat. "Levi Redenbacher died 'mysteriously' on the night of the twentieth, a fire poker through his chest in a pool of his own blood. There was a note tied to the poker that said, 'Why hath you forsaken me? Now I depart, I am leaving you here.'"

"That's the end of Lady MacBeth's suicide note from Shakespeare's MacBeth." she said, seemingly recognizing the quote instantaneously.

"Thank you!" I cried. "The exceedingly imbecilic Scotland Yard didn't even get that much out of it. They thought it was a suicide note."

"Certainly sounds like one."

"Yes, and it was genius as well. You see, Levi was a secondary school literature teacher, and was a massive Shakespeare buff. It was an excellently disguised murder."

"That means that someone who knew him well enough to know that killed him."

"Yes! There were clear signs of a struggle that Scotland Yard ignored, and the fact that the poker through the chest didn't kill him."

"What did?"

"Well, the fire poker killed him, but he was brained with it, and then after he was dead it was stabbed through his chest."

"To make it look like a suicide!"

"Yes, yes!" I clapped his hands, gleefully. Then, somberly, I stated, "But we do not know who, or why. That is what I am trying to solve."

She stroked her chin, and let out a low, "Hmmmm." She then looked up at me and inquired, "Have you talked to any potential suspects?"

"Yes." I said, in a low murmur.

"And?"

"All of them seem to have pretty solid alibis, that's what is confusing me. All of them seem to have been in the right place at the right time."

"Annoying."

"Hm?"

"Oh, people with solid alibis are so annoying. You can never be so sure right away who committed the crime."

"Yeah, I agree."

We puzzled over the crime for innumerable hours, going no further than when we had started. We went through at least four pots of tea and an entire store pack of biscuits, not even really eating anything substantial.

We had both dressed back down into pyjamas; I in my baggy grey sweatpants, white tee, and blue dressing gown, she in her blue fleece trousers, violet tee, and white fuzzy dressing gown.

"Dammit all!" she shouted, at four o'clock, nearly upsetting her tea. "I can't figure this damn thing out!"

"I know, I know!" I raged alongside her. "It must be so simple that someone of our mental caliber can't comprehend the stupidity of the method! We must be over analyzing it!"

"The answer must be staring us straight in the face. Anyway, I'm going to bed."

"It's four pm, Ally."

"I know."

"Why are you going to bed?"

"Because I need to think about this case, and thinking about cases in bed is often how I solve them."

"Oh. Goodnight then." I kissed the top of her head as she got up and walked out.