The Game Is On - (Sequel To Triple Threat)

Chapter Four

So sorry for the long wait, had major writers block.  But, here it is.  

Chapter Four

Lestrade

I walked through the unusually quiet police station towards my office.  As I walked, almost everyone glanced up at me from their desks, which put me on edge slightly.  However, once I made it to my office I realised why everybody was so quiet.  There was a man sitting in my chair with his feet resting on the desk.  I sighed deeply, not really wanting to talk to him today – I had too much work to do. 

“What do you want?” I muttered as I walked in and closed the door behind me.  I also made sure to shut the blinds – I didn’t want any of the officers listening in on our conversation.

“You really don’t know why I’m here?” Sherlock asked me, his eyebrows furrowing.  I took a deep breath and threw my work on the desk which made him jump slightly.

“No, and quite frankly I don’t care!  I have work to do Sherlock so just leave and I’ll talk to you later.” I half shouted at him which made him scowl.  He didn’t like being told what to do. 

“You’re obviously not doing your job very well if you don’t know why I’m here.” Sherlock handed me a big stack of paper.

“This isn’t to do with Lana’s friend is it?  Because it’s really not my division...” I began to make excuses but he cut me off.

“No, why would I care about that?  No, this is a list of murders that I’ve spotted around London in the past four months.  They are seemingly unconnected but I know that there is something there...I just can’t see it.  I need a second opinion....” he paused, and glanced at the big white board in my office, “...and I needed a bigger board.” He said as he stood up and grabbed a pen.  “Read the names out to me.”  I sighed deeply and looked at the list.

“Sally Lewis...Henry Elliott...Edward Stevens...Rachel Tyson... Lewis Rone... Oliver Adams... Chloe Day... Katherine Elling.” I finished and watched Sherlock as he stared at the names on the board.  He didn’t do anything else, he just stared. 

“I don’t have time for this.” I muttered and walked out of my office.

Sherlock

Not even five minutes after Lestrade left his office, I was ‘escorted’ (and by escorted I mean roughly manhandled by three muscular policemen) out of the police station.  Thankfully I managed to pick up the files with the brief details of all the murders, but I had hoped for more details on each – however it didn’t look like Lestrade was willing to help me out. 

I flagged down a taxi outside the police station and made my way back to Baker Street.  As I opened the front door, I could hear the muffled sound of raised voices from upstairs.  I sighed deeply, recognising them as Jo and Lana.  I slowly walked up the stairs and opened the door to the lounge to see Jo on the sofa with her head in her hands, sniffling.  Lana was on the other side of the room with a mixed expression: the anger was evidently directed at Jo, but there was also guilt clouding her eyes.  I know she hated seeing her mother sad, and to be the cause of that sadness was more often than not too much for her.

“What’s going on?” I asked.  Jo snapped her head up, obviously not realising that I’d come in.  When she did this I could see her bloodshot eyes – she had definitely been crying.

“Stay out of it, Sherlock.” John muttered as he walked past me carrying a cup of tea, which he handed to Jo.  I looked to Lana and raised an eyebrow.

“Mum’s being unreasonable.” She mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest.  At this, Jo scoffed.

“Oh I’M being unreasonable?!   That’s rich Lana.”