Sherlocked

The Murdered Maid

I leaned back in the chair. John sighed and looked up from the newspaper in his hand.

"We haven't had a case in awhile, Sherlock. Why?" he asked.

"How would I know, John?" I asked.

"Well you are the great Sherlock Holmes. It's surprising we haven't had bogus work at the least." he said.

"What do you want me to do? Go and commit crime so we have a case?" I snapped. John looked at me in shock.

He turned his body slightly away from me. I stretched my body straight in the chair.My phone buzzed on the kitchen table. I rolled my eyes.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" John asked me.

"They can leave a message." I replied. John opened his laptop and began clicking away at the keys.

"Writing another blog entry about me?" I asked.

"Of course I am. Say, which do you like better as the text header? Detective Bumlock or Detective Nowork?" John asked.

"Why are you so mad?" I asked.

"When was the last time you had a case?"

"Hm. About a month ago."

"But only because you've turned down every case that's walked through the door since that last one. You can't live without an income Sherlock!" He was yelling now.

"Calmn down, John" I said as I stood and picked my phone up off the table to listen to the message I had recieved. "It's a case. You coming?" I asked. He nodded and we grabbed out coats as we walked out the door.

The taxi pulled up infront of a big, fancy house. It looked hundreds of years old, but at the same time, it looked well-kept. It was the kind of house that would have needed hundreds of maids and butlers to keep it up. The brass, lion-head knocker was polished so much it gleamed. Sherlock raised it and thumped it against the dark, mahogany door a few times.

A young girl answered. She was wearing a black and white dress that resembled an old maids' uniform. She must be one of the hired help, I thought to myself.

"May I help you gentlemen?" she asked in a soft voice.

"We're here to talk to the owners about Riley Harvey? Is Mr. Or Mrs. Garret home? I recieved a call." Sherlock said. She nodded and lead us inside. She pointed out an overly decorated room, telling us she would go get the owners.

"Looks a bit, much don't you think?" I said, looking at Sherlock.

"This is the house of two people who like to brag, John. They lived a terrible life before, came to some new money and bought the biggest thing they could find." Sherlock said.

"You got all of that by sitting in a room?" I asked.

"Well yes, and they were in the papers a few months ago when they came to the money." he replied. I chuckled at his wit and relaxed a bit in the chair I was in.

A tall woman and man walked into the room. Sherlock and I stood. The woman had dark brown hair and an elegant dress on. She was a quite stunning creature. The man was in a dark suit and had tired eyes. He looked like he had had alot of hardships.

"My name is Wyatt Garret and this is my wife, Olivia." Wyatt said, shaking our hands. Olivia nodded.

"So what seems to be the problem, Mr. Garret?" Sherlock asked.

"Please, call me Wyatt. Well, one of my maids has gone missing and I'm starting to get concerned." Wyatt said, pulling out a folder from his pocket. "This is her resume and a picture of her" he added. He handed the folder to Sherlock. Sherlock flipped it open and scanned briefly, then closed it and handed it to me.