Sentiment || Sherlock Holmes

His Last Vow Part 1

"Seriously?" Mary called after her husband.

"Why not?" John countered, heading for their car. "She's not going to the police, someone's got to get him."

Their neighbor Kate's son, Isaac, was missing. He had a history of drug abuse, and Kate came looking for advice from the Watsons. John, itching to get out of his routine, got the address of the drug den and was off and running.

"Why you?" Mary asked.

"Being neighborly." John said.

"Since when?" Mary threw up her hands.

John chuckled. "Since now. Since this exact minute."

"Why are you being so..."

"What?"

"Oh, I don't know. What's the matter with you?" Mary asked.

John raised his voice. "There is nothing the matter with me!" He paused. "Imagine I said that without shouting."

"I'm trying." Mary caught up with him.

"No, you can't come, you're pregnant." Jon protested.

"You can't go, I'm pregnant."

Mary got into the car.

The house was on the outskirts of their neighborhood, near an old fallen-down factory. John parked the car in the adjacent lot. He got some tools from the back, and began walking inside.

Mary laughed. "What is that?" She pointed at the metal rod he'd stuck down his waistband.

"It's a tire lever." He said.

"Why?"

"Because there were loads of smackheads in there and one of them might need help with a tire." John deadpanned. "If there's any trouble, just go, I'll be fine."

"John, wait, John!" Mary called after him.

He turned around.

"It is a tiny bit sexy." Mary said.

John smiled smugly. "Yeah, I know."

The doctor passed through an alley strewn with trash before knocking on a big door plastered with "private" and "no soliciting" signs.

A tall, gaunt man opened the door a crack. "What d'you want?" He demanded.

"Excuse me." John shoved the door and the man aside, entering the house.

"'ey, you can't come in 'ere." The man protested.

"I'm looking for a friend." John said, walking through the corridor, checking the rooms. "A very specific friend. I'm not just browsing."

"You gotta go." The man said. "No one's allowed here."

John paced back to where the man stood near the door. "Isaac Whitney. You seen him?"

The man pulled out a switchblade.

"I'm asking you if you've seen Isaac Whitney, and now you're showing me a knife. Is it a clue?" John grew angry.

The man gestured to the door with the blade.

"You doing a mime?" John said.

"Go. Or I'll cut you." The man said.

"Ooh, not from there. Let me help." John approached the man. "Now, concentrate. Isaac Whitney."

"Okay, you asked for it." The man said.

John grabbed the addict's wrist and bent is backwards, disarming him. He punched him the sternum, slamming him into the wall, before sweeping his leg out from behind him. The man landed on the floor with a groan. John picked up the knife.