Chapter 45
(Third person POV: )
Not long afterwards, the black car pulled up outside 221 and John got out. The car drove away and he walked to the door, and then stopped as he saw a handwritten note attached underneath the knocker. He looked around the street for a moment, then pushed the door open and went inside. Written on the note was:
“CRIME IN PROGRESS
PLEASE DISTURB”
He went upstairs and hurried into the living room.
(Alice’s POV: )
“What’s going on?” John cried as he burst in. He stopped at the sight of Neilson, bound and gagged with duct tape and sitting on the chair near the fireplace. His nose was broken and blood had run down his face and was dripping from his chin. Mrs. Hudson was sitting on the sofa next to me and Sherlock was in a chair nearby, holding Neilson’s pistol aimed at him with one hand, and his phone to his ear with the other. I smiled sweetly at John, hoping he wouldn’t notice my minor injuries. He could be so protective. “Jeez. What the h*ll is happening?” He asked.
“Mrs. Hudson’s been attacked by an American.” I said.
“We’re restoring balance to the universe.” Sherlock reasoned, looking at me.
“We?” I asked as John immediately hurried over to Mrs. Hudson and sat down on the other side of her.
“Oh, Mrs. Hudson, my g*d. Are you all right?” John cried. Glaring at Neilson as he put his arm around her shoulders. “Je***, what have they done to you?” He asked. Mrs. Hudson broke down in tears again.
“Oh, I’m just being so silly.” She complained, covering her face with her hands.
“No, no.” John argued, pulling her closer. I rubbed her back sympathetically and stood up next to Sherlock as he got to his feet.
“Downstairs. Take her downstairs and look after her.” Sherlock instructed to John, still holding the phone to his ear while aiming the gun at Neilson. John stood up and helped the landlady to her feet.
“All right, it’s all right. I’ll have a look at that.” John said gently, holding her elbow and waist.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Mrs. Hudson insisted tearfully. As she walked out of the room, John stepped over to Sherlock, whose eyes were fixed on Neilson.
“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” John hissed.
“I expect so. Now go.” I told him. We looked at each other for a moment and then we turned our gazes to Neilson, all of us glaring murderously at him. John turned to leave the room but just before his head was completely turned away, a small smile began to form on his face as if he wanted Neilson to understand that he was about to encounter a whole world of hurt.
“Lestrade. We’ve had a break-in at Baker Street. Send your least irritating officers and an ambulance.” Sherlock said into his mobile. Finally taking his eyes off Neilson, he walked across to the table and laid the pistol down on it. “Oh, no-no-no-no-no, we’re fine. No, it’s the, uh, it’s the burglar. He’s got himself rather badly injured.” Sherlock continued. I leaned down into Neilsons face just to see the look of sheer terror form as Sherlock continued. “Oh, a few broken ribs, fractured skull... suspected punctured lung.” Sherlock looked over his shoulder at the American. “He fell out of a window.” Sherlock finished. The look of terror was better than I had imagined. Still looking into Neilsons eyes, he hung up.
(Third person POV: )
Downstairs in Mrs. Hudson’s kitchen, she and John were standing by the sink as he gently applied some antiseptic to the cut on her cheek. She flinched.
“Ooh, it stings.” She said, not trying to complain. John nodded as he continued cleaning the cut. A moment later a shape plummeted down past the window and landed with a crash. John and Mrs. H looked at the window. “Ooh. That was right on my bins.” She noticed. There was an agonised groan from outside.
(Alice’s POV: )
Sometime later (after Sherlock and I had deemed Neilson punished enough), it was fully dark outside and the ambulance was only now pulling away. Sherlock and I were standing outside Speedy’s café with Lestrade.
“And exactly how many times did he fall out the window?” Lestrade asked.
“It’s all a bit of a blur, Detective Inspector.” Sherlock began.
“We lost count.” I finished bitterly. Not bothering to comment, Lestrade walked away.
A little later Sherlock and I came in through the kitchen door of 221A and we wiped our feet carefully on the doormat. Mrs. Hudson and John were sitting at her small kitchen table and the wall clock showed 9.32 p.m. Mrs. H still looked very shaken.
“She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her.” John told us.
“No.” Mrs. Hudson insisted.
“Of course, but she’s fine.” Sherlock and I said.
“No, she’s not. Look at her.” John argued. Sherlock opened the fridge door and peered inside before picking something up. I leaned against the counter, putting my left foot flat against the surface and crossing my arms.
“She’s got to take some time away from Baker Street. She can go and stay with her sister. Doctor’s orders.” John said, glancing fondly at the landlady. I caught Sherlock looking at my legs and my eyes narrowed. Kicking the fridge door shut, Sherlock quickly looked away from me and frowned at John while biting into a mince pie. I cocked my head to the side; Sherlock hadn’t willingly eaten in at least a week despite John and my attempts.
“Don’t be absurd.” Sherlock said.
“She’s in shock, for g*d’s sake, and all over some bl**dy stupid camera phone. Where is it, anyway?” John argued.
“Safest place I know.” Sherlock replied. Wiping crumbs from his mouth, he looked down at Mrs. Hudson, who reached down inside her top and pulled the phone out of her bra before handing it to Sherlock. I sighed quietly.
“You left it in the pocket of your second-best dressing gown, you clot.” She laughed briefly. “I managed to sneak it out when they thought I was having a cry.” She revealed.
“Thank you.” Sherlock said, tossing it into the air before putting it in his coat pocket. He looked at John. “Shame on you, John Watson.” He scolded. I was confused.
“Shame on me?!” John exclaimed.
“Mrs. Hudson leave Baker Street?” He put a protective arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. “England would fall.” He finished sternly. I glanced at his arm, not sure what I was feeling when I looked at it. He glanced at me quickly. She laughed as she stroked his hand. He chuckled gently. John smiled at them both.
*gasps* What is Alice feeling! Will we ever know!? Hehe.... I love being cheesy =P Enjoy, vote, and comment, fun peoples! =)
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top