It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

17 - Jeweller's Thieves

It was the day after the Scarlett incident and John and Sherlock were waiting for Abigail to come in through the back of the Jeweller's for her shift. They were planning to confront her but she hadn't appeared yet.

"You haven't spoken about what happened to you and Elizabeth much." John said this quietly as his eyes were trained on the back door to the jeweller's shop.

"Hm?"

"Last night. You've been doing everything you possibly can since it happened. You're distracting yourself."

"John, we are on a case. I would appreciate it if you could reach your point in this decade."

"You seem troubled, Sherlock. And you haven't even asked where your stash is. You are distracting yourself in the most respectable ways possible."

"Where is my stash?"

"You know I'm not saying. What's wrong? You haven't slept - "

"I normally don't sleep much."

"You actually ate something - "

"Well, I don't starve myself, John."

" - Without complaint. You solved even the tiniest of cases this morning with the missing pet and the secret affair case - "

"I was feeling nice."

"You watched telly - "

"Is that not an activity most people do, John?"

" - Without interrupting anyone on the telly. You think I can't see it Sherlock but I know something is up! So what is it?"

The detective fell silent.

John sighed, "I'm supposed to be your friend. What kind of a friend am I if I can't help you or at the very least listen to you?"

Sherlock looked at John with this blank stare before caving in but only slightly, "It doesn't make sense. If they wanted to save Elizabeth, why not shoot Scarlett too? Had they come up to the open window, they would have been able to take her out before Elizabeth was stabbed. It was like they wanted that to happen first because they caught and killed Scarlett after."

"That's not all, is it? There's something else that's been bothering you."

Sherlock rolled his eyes before looking away and at the door to the Jeweller's again, "Since when did you become so good at deducing, John? Please, go back to your day job."

"This is part of my day job." He grumbled, pausing, "And I'll take that as a 'yes' then."

Sherlock shot him a look but John smiled. It was amusing to see how much he had learned about his friend and how oblivious he was to his own tells that gave him away so clearly.

"It's to do with Elizabeth isn't it?"

Sherlock didn't look at John or speak a word.

"See, I know that's a yes because now you're trying to pretend like I said nothing."

A sigh left Sherlock's lips. Why did his friend have to be so observant with him and not any other crime? Looking to John he said:

"Yes. Fine. You're right." He paused, "But if you're so smart you can figure out why yourself."

"You were shocked to discover that you actually worried about her dying, not because she has valuable information regarding Moriarty but, because you genuinely care about her as a person."

Gobsmacked by his deduction, Sherlock looked at John with slightly parted lips. Clamping his mouth shut, he shook his head, "No, that's not it."

"But it is. It's either that or/and you feel worse knowing that if whoever else was there didn't call the first ambulance then she would have died."

"John - "

"I'm right, aren't I?" The doctor had a smug look on his face.

Saved by the bell, Abigail, the shop assistant that Mr Agate had mentioned before walked up to the back door.

"Oh look, suspect's here." Sherlock flashed a smile before walking over, "Sorry, Miss West is it?"

With a sigh, John hurried after him. The young woman whipped her head around to see the two men.

Nineteen. New nails. New watch. Fancy necklace. Hair done. Working class background judging by the joggers and tatty canvas shoes, she didn't seem like the kind of person to be able to afford all of those things at once so easily.

"Yeah, what is it?" Came her thick London accent, "Who are you both?"

"Private investigators. Mr Agate hired us to investigate the string of persistent burglaries occurring at his shop. I was hoping I could talk to you about it."

"Oh, the burglaries? I don't really know anything about them. They happen when - "

"You're not here. Yes, we know. Which means - "

Abigail's posture changed and her voice sounded different, "That I'm the main suspect? Thought this wouldn't last long. Well, it was nice while it did last."

"You're not denying it?" John questioned.

"Now why would I deny it when it's true?"

Sherlock entered the code for the door to open it for her, "In that case, care to follow us inside while we wait for the police?"

"Let me think - no."

Throwing a punch towards John, she caught him on the cheek, before sprinting out of the alley and into the crowd of people on the bustling pavement. Sherlock briefly checked on John before bolting after Abigail but he never did catch up to her or find her amidst the crowd. John caught up to him eventually, his cheek red from the punch.

"Where'd she go?"

"Gone. Back to her gang I presume. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine, she didn't punch hard."

"Just enough to get you out of the way." Sherlock frowned, "I guess we'll have to tell Mr Agate that Abigail has resigned. I highly doubt she'll go back to her job."

"But what are we going to do about this case then?"

"It's solved technically, just without a perpetrator locked up. They won't steal from his store again though."

"How do you know?

"She made it sound like she was impressed that her post lasted so long. She won't return if she wants to protect the gang she's working for."

"I see. So the case is finished then?"

Sherlock shook his head, "When it's a gang, the case is never finished until every gang member is in prison - even then one can't be sure it's over. For now, we've just moved the problem onto someone else. We'll have to wait until they strike again."