Sentiment || Sherlock Holmes

The Great Game Part 2

"What was the point? Why would anyone do this?" Lestrade asked, frustrated and confused.

The bomber from Baker Street had strapped a woman from Cornwall with a boatload of explosives and sent her instructions through a pager all with the small goal in mind of making Sherlock figure out that the bomber had poisoned Carl Powers himself twenty some years earlier.

It was sick.

And also elegant.

"No, I can't be the only person in the world that gets bored." Sherlock answered Lestrade's question calmly, looking out the window of the DCI's office. Eve and John occupied the chairs in front of the his desk, while the investigator himself swiveled back and forth in his chair while he thought.

The pink phone pinged with another message. Four Greenwich Time Signal Pips played out of the phone.

"First test passed it would seem. Here's the second." Sherlock strode over and showed the three of them a photo displayed on the screen. It was a sleek black Mazda. The license plate read: B JO6 ZHT.

Evelyn heard a cell phone ringing outside the office door.

"It's abandoned, wouldn't you say?" Sherlock referred to the car.

"I'll see if it's been reported." Lestrade picked up the phone of his desk and got to work.

Sally Donovan opened the door, ringing cell phone in hand. With her usual tact, she said: "Freak, it's for you."

Eve sent Sally her best death stare, but decided against picking a real fight. Sherlock took the phone and walked out of the office.

Evelyn observed Sherlock through the glass wall of the office. She took a tentative, concerned step towards the door. He looked around him, as if trying to find someone watching him. She tapped John on the arm and they left the office together, coming to stand by Sherlock and hear his half of the phone conversation.

"You've stolen another voice, I presume." said Sherlock.

Eve and John shared a look. It was the bomber again.

"Who are you?" Sherlock's gaze flickered as he concentrated on something. "What's that noise?"

Evelyn could hear the person talking on the other end, but couldn't make out the words. In his office, Lestrade hung up the phone.

"Great! We've found it!"

Sherlock placed the mobile back onto Donovan's desk. As they left The Yard, he wrapped his hand around Eve's arm, whispering to her: "Eight hours."

The car from the photo had been abandoned in a lot surrounded by the crumbling walls of what used to be a large building. Ian Monkford, a banker, had hired the car the day before, telling his wife he was going on a business trip he make.

Donovan harassed John. "You still hanging round him?"

"Yeah, well..."

"You should get yourself a hobby. Stamps, maybe. Model trains, safer." She deadpanned. Evelyn's spine crawled at the insults but Sherlock went on unphased, so she followed suit. 

Eve and Sherlock opened the passenger and driver side doors respectively and took a look inside the car. Blood was splattered across the front console and seats.

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

Sherlock opened the glove compartment and pulled out the rental company's card. Evelyn saw no more helpful evidence and ducked back out of the car.

"No body?" She asked.

"Not yet." Donovan said.

"Get a sample sent to the lab." Sherlock ordered before walking over to a woman nearby. John and Eve followed, coming to stand on either side of the tall detective.