SHERLOCK (season 5)









SHERLOCK 
(season 5) sherlock stories
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sofi_yarini
sofi_yarini i'm into mystery and plot twist 😘
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
Chapter 3

SHERLOCK (season 5)

HER LAST BOW Chapter 3

"Do you remember the hotel room where we found the body? When i first entered, i can't help but noticed how exceptionally clean the room is. Even a normal clean hotel room has their own flaws.

But that hotel room is very clean. You might ask yourself maybe because there was splatter of blood from a murder so the culprit needs to clean the room to the point it was flawless."

"But the crime investigator said there was no blood in any ways in that room." Lestrade said.

"Yes, that fooled me too." Sherlock continued. "That is why I was convinced there's a murder in that room. But now I found out that she wasn't murdered."

Sherlock with no tension in his walk, come across the small living room of Letitia Balden and approaches the dining table. And then he proceeds to the cabinet in the kitchen. He opens it.

"If you are looking for the murderer, this is one of them."

Lestrade hastily walks in to the kitchen, looking at the item Sherlock takes out from the cabinet.

"Is that.. a herbs?"

"St. John worts." John said. "Wait, this is normal herbs. It isn't poisonous."

"Like I said, if you take it alone. But Letitia took something else that makes it lethal to her." Sherlock adds. "Do you have a list of drugs she had when she died?" asked Sherlock to Lestrade.

Lestrade quickly opens his files again, after reach a page, he shows it to Sherlocks. John joins them.

"I think I know what you think. Serotonin Syndrome." John excitedly deduced.

Sherlock nods slowly, "In some cases it will only cause you agitation, discomforts. But in rare cases, when you drink a lot in a long time. It could leads to death."

Sherlock points out to one of the drugs list that Letitia Balden possessed.

"Cough medicine. Dextromethorphan." John whispered. "So it's an accident. There's no murder."

Sherlock smiles, "Didn't I said there's no murder but there is a crime."

"Where's the crime?" Lestrade asked.

"Do you remember when I was suspicious of murder because the overly clean room in that hotel. Also Mrs. Balden has a lot of cats. She won't leave them alone one night without someone feeding them. She wasn't going to stay over at that hotel. She's going there for a renovation."

Lestrade and John silently trying to digest Sherlock's words.

"By renovation you mean.."

Sherlock rolls his eyes. "She's going for a cosmetic procedure! An illegal one. That's why the hotel's room is squeaky clean. Because they're going to do a procedure in there."

Lestrade and John look at each other.

"In a hotel room?"

"That's why I told you, there's no murder but there is a crime! The hotel is just a facade, they actually running an underground cosmetic labs there, with a low price and probably not enough safety protocol. Whatever procedure Mrs. Balden was going to take, she planned to going back home the same day."

Lestrade seems start to grasps on Sherlock deduction. "Is that why they already sold the room to other people?"

Sherlock nods confidently, "My guess if you go there right now you can caught them right in the middle of it."

Lestrade snaps from Sherlock deduction and hurries his men to come with him. Leaving Sherlock and John alone.

"So she doesn't know she was combining her own poison?" John asked again.

"She was hasty to had the procedure. If they know she was under the weather, she might be forced to canceled it. So in order to surppresed her coughs, she dranks the cough medicine.. a lot of it." Sherlock explained.

"As for St. John's Wort, she might had taking it since she got divorced. St. John's wort is known to calm your nerves. She was anxious since her ex-husband just got a new younger girlfriend.

Ironically, to avoid side effects, she took a herbs rather than a pharmaceutical drugs. But in the end, it's the one who caused her death." Sherlock put the container of St. John's wort in the table, rejoicing the moment of irony.

John looks at Sherlock almost like looking at a painting. He admires how Sherlock can pull out a puzzle and examines a dead woman feeling from a fraction of evidence and the things she left behind.

But how can Sherlock unable to understand how Molly feels about him and how terrifying a woman fate can be driven by their emotion. John suddenly feels the chills. Molly, how long can she endures Sherlock's behaviour? What will their fate become?

"Let's go home Sherlock." said John in a hurry.

***

John and Sherlock arrive at Baker Street. Sherlock seems in a good mood, since they able to solved the mystery. Mrs. Hudson greets them at the entrance. "How is it boys? Any luck today?"

"Better than luck, Mrs. Hudson. But unfortunately she brought it to herself." said Sherlock enthusiasticly.

Mrs. Hudson looks at John for an explanation. "He solved the crime." John summons it up rapidly.

Sherlock goes up the stairs straight in to his flat's living room, but then he sees Molly standing facing up the window. She seems to stay there, waiting for them to return.

Sherlock immediately turns back, looking for a way out of uncomfortable situation.

Just before he's going to walk away, his distinctive observation notices Molly's hand grasps tightly to the curtain. It's almost like she sees something horrific outside the window. Sherlock can see her hand muscle tighten, as if she's going to pull down the curtain.

As a detective, he immediately senses something is not right, and it reminds him, everyone that enter that room is someone that in needs for help.

So instead of running away, he begins slowly walks into the living room. He walks carefully as if he is about to approaching a rabbit that might scare away by sound.

"Molly.." Sherlock said in a low tone. John is still downstairs chatting with Mrs. Hudson. Right now there's only both of them in the room.

By the sound of her name, Molly's grasp is loosen up. She let go the curtain almost immediately. Her body seems release all the tension before. Sherlock notices all of these.

"..is everything okay?" Sherlock asked again. In that moment Sherlock suddenly realizes he owed a lot to Molly more than everyone in his life.

John is his roommate and loyal friend, they are comrades hand in hand. There were times John left him when things go bad, like for instance when his wives dead catching a bullet for him.

Mycroft is his brother, Mrs. Hudson is his landlord, they all have roles in Sherlock lives. But Molly, Molly is there just by her own willingness. And despite of all that had happened. Sherlock wondering, is this the feels of guilt creeping down his spines.

Molly turns around slowly and faced Sherlock.

"Do you know.. sometimes, we take something for granted.." she tooks another glance at the window. Long enough to make Sherlock take a peek of what actually she saw.

But than, Molly continues her words.

"..sometimes.. you do not realize something you can't live without until it is really gone."

After she finished her sentence she and Sherlock stare on to each other.

Sherlock isn't sure about what to say, or if she had already finished her sentence. But than she quietly walks away before Sherlock could say anything.

Just in time for steps from downstairs approaching. "Ah.. Molly, are you and Rosie going to the daycare right now?" asks John who just appears, unknowing of the tense atmosphere.

Molly nods and smile, like she always did.

Sherlock still standing where Molly left him, unmoved.

"What are you doing?" John asked.

"Nothing." he answered, unsured.

John looks to the door again where Molly is already gone.

"Did something happened?" John asked curiously.

"I already told you it was nothing." Sherlock replied sharply.

With that cynical tone, John assures nothing was happened.

"Well, I am off then. Hope to see you again later." said John while putting on his jacket. "Please don't call or text me for the next 2 hours."

"2 hours that is fast." said Sherlock without lifting his eyes from his smartphone.

John then walks away happily without bothering his friend remarks.

***

"Inspector.." a police officer approaches Lestrade "Good call on that hotel thing today, sir. Me and my lads can't believe that hotel is actually runs a plastic surgery lab. What a surprise, eh.."

"Yeah.. yeah.. it was a good day until I got called here. For God sake, I just want to have one Valentine without finding anyone's body somewhere."

"Sorry, sir."

"Come on, just gives me the details so we all can go home today." Lestrade said grumpily.

"Right, eh.. There's a.. female body found in a public bench, 30 something they said. Neatly dressed, like she was about to go on a date, full make up on. She seems to asleep, someone try to woke her up, but she didn't react. They called the medics and they said she was already a goner."

"Where is she?"

The young police officer leads Lestrade to the bench. There is a lady in a dark green dress is sitting with her head tilted to the side.

From the direction Lestrade approachs her, he is facing her backside.

"Cause of death?"

Lestrade putting on his gloves.

"Amm.. they don't know yet sir, they would like to ask your permission to bring the body to the morgue for further investigation."

Just after finished putting his gloves on, Lestrade turns to see the dead woman's from the front side. And then he turns pale.

"Pity, eh sir. Such a lovely lady sitting and die alone in the bench. No personal belongings, not even a purse. Maybe she was robbed?"

Lestrade doesn't even listens to the rookie officer anymore. Sweats starting to run down his back.

And after he takes another look, hastily searching for pulse, looking for obvious cause of death.

He took a couple steps back, almost like he suddenly looses his balance but trying to stand still.

"What's wrong sir?"

"Dear God.. No.. Oh my God. No. Bloody hell no. Please don't.."

"Do you know her, sir?"asked the officer again confusedly.

"Don't just stand there! Call the medics, have them help her!" Lestrade suddenly shouts and grabs the officer jacket.

"Bbut.. they already did sir. They said she's dead."

Lestrade stroke his hair in frustration.

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