Despite John and Flo’s constant pleading to just call the police to report that they had solved the murder. Sherlock just continued on plotting the infiltration of the mysterious carnival, which proved to be more necessary than originally thought. Even under the cover of night, they could see all the carnies in full costume covering the perimeter, armed with guns.
“Well you don’t see that every day.” Flo whispered to the men on either side of her as they crouched behind one of the carnival’s vans. It took them what seemed like forever to sneak into the plot of land only to have Sherlock lead them into Mr. Folley’s trailer/office.
John looked around the room and turned the blinds over so no one would see them, “Okay, what the hell are we doing here?”
“I think we’re solving a case,” Flo answered walking over to Sherlock who was now behind the manager’s desk opening what seemed like random drawers, “but I don’t see why we couldn’t have just taken a picture of the freaking clowns with the semi-automatic weapons and sent it to Lestrade!”
The consulting detective continued to ignore them. There were only two things that Sherlock needed to put the case to rest, with a gloved hand he had already found the murder weapon and put it in an evidence bag he “borrowed”. What he needed was the laptop that would explain what exactly was going on with the carnival. He came to the conclusion that Mr. Folley must run carnival operations on a secret laptop because of the protectiveness he seemed to have towards his desk. When they were interviewing him it was easy to see that he thought they were getting too close, he leaned to his left. Gaining a firm grip on the gun and protecting something. Mr. Folley could not possibly be stupid enough to keep anything illegal on the computer for the carnival cover.
It was not until his leg hit a lock that he knew where it was. He had unlocked the drawer and computer when he noticed the complex stream of numbers that began flooding the computer screen.
“Flo I need you to hack this for me.” He said turning the laptop towards her.
Flo glared at Sherlock as her brother began, “Look Sherlock, she worked for the cybercrimes unit yes. But you can’t just assume that she can do-“
“It’s child’s play. She’s hacked into the British Government, John.”
Flo held the bridge of her nose and sighed, “Damn.”
“What!?” John yelled.
“It was once!” She said leaving her brother’s side to walk over to the desk.
The older Watson looked at his sister with wide eyes, much like he had when they first reunited. Flo hated that look; it only reminded her how out of touch she was with her favorite sibling. He knew of her studies and job position, but it seemed like when it came to important things he had to be told by his flat mate. It was probably better that he knew, it is not like she was going to admit it to her protective brother under any normal circumstances. “Now move you git.” She said as she pushed Sherlock away from the computer earning her a small smile from John.
She began typing quickly. Sherlock noticed that while she typed, she made three peculiar faces: a similar scrunched up face, that John sometimes made, when she came across something rather difficult, bit her lip when she was close to cracking, and finally a smug toothy smile as she unlocked the computer’s secrets.
“Oh.” She said. The two men went to look over her shoulder and saw files that included details on the transportation of some incredibly illegal drugs.
Sherlock grinned, “A drug ring! I knew it; it was either that or gun smuggling.”
“Blimey! But why did Gaffen get killed?” John asked.
Flo began typing again, “Working on it. Here!”
They looked at the file. There was a list of people they assume were associated with the ring and when they left. Leonard Gaffen’s name was right on the bottom with the label snitch next to his name and date of death.
“So he was going to tell the police about the drug ring here at the carnival, only 35 minutes outside of London. For a hefty sum of money in exchange, no doubt.” Flo sighed.
John shrugged, “Well now that we’ve got this can we get-“ The sound of someone marching from outside made him seal his lips. They looked at each other and silently agreed that it was time to leave. Both Sherlock and John were on way to the door when the younger Watson signaled them to wait. She appeared to be closing the computer and reorganizing the files. Flo gave them silent thumbs up and they proceeded to the door.
Thankfully the trio had sneaked around the carney that had made the noise outside of the trailer, a polka dot and top hat wearing Mr. Folley, and were trying to walk in the shadows. It was relatively quiet outside except for the sounds of the operation going on behind the Ferris Wheel. The sight of the entertainers in full costume contrasted that of the dark operation. According to the files it was supposed to be a marijuana transport, not very interesting for Sherlock’s standards but interesting enough for him to push his luck by creeping slightly closer to one of the booths nearby. It seemed slightly unbelievable so he would have to seriously convince Donovan in order to get them over to the carnival. Perhaps he should have had Flo save the files…
They heard the crunch of boots on leaves, and it was not coming from Flo’s worker boots. John acted quickly and grabbed his sister’s hand to duck inside the “Dart and Balloon” game. Sherlock sat next to Flo just a few seconds later. Their backs were against the side of the booth’s counter. The younger Watson tried to keep her breathing as quiet as possible; Sherlock helped her by pressing his gloved hand against her mouth. She would have given him a dirty look but that was not her main priority. The footsteps were now pacing in front of the booth and it seemed as though they were only getting closer. John was looking up at the ceiling of the booth hoping that the carney would just give up. Sherlock tried to rationalize their position; they were not making any noise therefore whoever it was should lose suspicion quickly. This theory seemed to be correct when the footsteps were becoming softer and going to another direction.
The three of them relaxed slightly.
“DOO WEE OOOO-, DOO WEE DOOO-, DOOO WEEEE OOOO-, DOO DOO DOO, DOOO WEEE…“(Doctor Who theme song)
The two men heads snapped to look at Flo who was now cursing and fumbling with her phone. The carney knew they were there and ran into the booth. John looked up to be greeted by a familiar top hat. “I knew ye were here!” Mr. Folley yelled pointing the gun at his sister. Before he could shoot, Flo’s foot kicked his polka dotted pants causing him to double over in pain.
“RUN!” Sherlock said grabbing his two companion’s shoulders and making a run for it.
It did not take too long before the other members of the carnival found out and began chasing them through the lot. They ran for their lives as bullets whizzed through the air, nearly hitting them several times. It looked like a scene from a Pirate’s of the Caribbean movie except that these were clowns and that they were definitely going to try and kill them.
“Why the HELL did you bring your phone!” John yelled at his sister.
She gave him a sheepish look, “I needed it to-“
Sherlock commented sarcastically, “Kill us all, because that’s a rather fantastic plan Florence. Good job! Honestly, I’d expect better from a mind like yours.”
“Back off dammit! I’m the only one who’s going to yell at her!” John said purposefully running faster to look his flat mate seriously in the eye.
Flo breathed, “I needed it to call the police!”
“Police?” Sherlock and John asked in unison.
Flo nearly ran into her brother while trying to dodge a bullet before responding. “Yeah, I called when we were in the trailer!”
“How do they even know where to go?” John asked.
Sherlock thought back to her words. “You specifically said ‘the carnival, only 35 minutes outside of London’.”
They were losing ground so Flo just nodded as she sped up, her brother in tow.
“But that would mean, “ Sherlock continued, “they would have gotten here by-“
They ran straight to the official looking cars that had been near the end of the lot. The three of them turned around just in time to see the look of surprise on the carneys’ faces.