Clique of 221B

Chapter 11: John or the Dog?

Shortly afterwards Sherlock is sat at the kitchen table examining the pieces of broken plaster under his microscope. John and Greg are stood nearby and I'm sat across the table facing Sherlock. Greg's telling us about the busts,
"Another two have been smashed since the Welsborough one: one belonging to Mr Mohandes Hassan-"
"Identical busts?" John interrupts.
"Yeah. And this one to a Doctor Barnicot in Holborn. Three in total." He looks at his watch. "God knows who'd wanna do something like this."
"Yeah, well some people have that complex, don't they – an idée fixe. They obsess over one thing and they can't let it go." He stares pointedly at Sherlock. I have no idea who he's talking about. Sherlock speaks without looking up from his microscope,
"No, no good. There were other images of Margaret..." he pauses, then raises his head to look at John. "Margaret?" John sighs,
"You know who she is!"
"-Thatcher present at the first break-in. Why would a monomaniac fixate on just one?" Sherlock continues, he picks up one piece with his tweezers, "Ooh."
"What is it?" You ask him.
"Blood." He puts the plaster under the microscope and looks at it through the lens. "Quite a bit of it, too. Was there any injury at the crime scene?" He asks Lestrade.
"Nah." Greg answers, he checks his watch again. He must be going somewhere soon. A date?
"Then our suspect must have cut themselves breaking the bust." Sherlock tells us. He uses the tweezers to put the blood-stained piece of plaster into a small plastic bag.
"Come on." Sherlock says to you and John.
"Holborn?" Lestrade asks.
"Lambeth."
"Lambeth? Why?"
"To see Toby."
"Ah right. Who?" John asks.
"You'll see."
"Right. You coming?" He asks Greg.
"No. He's got a lunch date with a brunette forensic officer that he doesn't want to be late for." Sherlock tells him as he gets up and starts to put on his jacket. Knew it.
"Who told you?" Greg asks, surprised.
"The right sleeve of your jacket-" you look down to see that there are long human hairs on the sleeve. "-plus the formaldehyde mixed with your cologne-" Sherlock pulls a disgusted face, while John leans over to put his face nearer to Greg's jacket, either looking at the sleeve or sniffing at it, or both. "-and your complete inability to stop looking at your watch. Have a good time."
"I will." Greg replies. He heads for the kitchen door onto the landing. Sherlock picks up his phone and starts typing away.
"Trust me, though, she's not right for you." Greg stops and turns back through the door,
"What?"
"She's not the one!" Sherlock repeats loudly.
"Well, yeah thank you Mystic Meg," and with that Greg goes down the stairs.
"How'd you work all that out?" John asks Sherlock.
"She's got three children in Rio that he doesn't know about." Sherlock answers still typing at his phone.
"Are you just making this up?"
"Possibly." Sherlock turns and goes out the door, you and John following.
"Who's Toby?" John asks. You all get into a cab. On the way there Sherlock explains to us,
"There's a kid I know, hacker, brilliant hacker, one of the world's best. He got himself into serious trouble with the Americans a couple of years ago. He hacked into the Pentagon's security system, and I managed to get him off the charge. Therefore he owes me a favour." When we get there Sherlock reaches for the knocker on a black-painted door and knocks twice and then steps back onto the pavement.
"So how does that help us?" John asks him.
"What?"
"Toby the hacker."
"Toby's not the hacker."
"What?" A young man opens the door and Sherlock smiles at him,
"Alright Craig?" Craig smiles,
"Alright Sherlock?" Sherlock looks down,
"Craig's got a dog." A large bloodhound wanders out onto the pavement.
"So I see." You comment. Sherlock laughs as Toby comes towards him,
"Good boy!"
"Hiya!" Mary pops her head around the door, Rosie in her arms. You and John stare at her in surprise.
"Mary what are you...?" John starts. "No we agreed we would never bring Rosie out on a case." She comes out and hands Rosie to John.
"No, exactly so don't wait up." She looks across at you and Sherlock. "Hey Sherlock, [Y/N]."
"Hey."
"Hi." You smile at her.
"But Mary, what are you doing here?" John asks.
"She's better at this than you." Sherlock answers.
"Better?"
"So I texted her."
"Hang on. Mary's better than me?"
"Well, she is a retired super-agent with a terrifying skill set. Of course she's better."
"And I'm the practically the equivalent of Mary so..." you add.
"Yeah, okay." John says.
"Nothing personal." Sherlock tells him.
"What, so I'm supposed to just go home now, am I?" John asks you.
"Oh, what do you think, Sherlock? Shall we take him with us?"
"John or the dog?"
"Ha-ha that's funny." John points out.
"Hilarious," you say, smiling at him.
"John." Mary elaborates.
"Well..." Sherlock says mock-thoughtfully.
"He's handy and loyal."
"That's hilarious." John says.
"Told you." You tell John.
"Mm."
"Is it too early for a divorce?" John jokes.
"Aww!" Mary says.
"Barnicot's house, then. Anyone up for a trudge?" Sherlock begins walking away with Toby who barks enthusiastically. "Keep up he's fast."
About five minutes later, Toby has sat himself down on the pavement near a phone box. Mary stands behind him holding his lead. John has Rosie strapped in front of him in a baby carrier and Sherlock stands next to him with his hands stuffed into his coat pockets. After we've been waiting for so long, John finally looks up at Sherlock.
"He's not moving."
"He's thinking." Sherlock replies.
"You know when you said he was fast I think you were talking about a different dog, Sherly," you say with a sigh. Mary starts stroking Toby's head. John looks down at him again,
"He's really not moving."
"Slow but sure, John, not dissimilar to yourself."
"You just like this dog, don't you?"
"Well, I like you."
"He's still not moving," Mary adds tiredly. Sherlock looks down at the dog for a few seconds,
"Fascinating." You and Mary let out exasperated sighs. We're going to be awhile.