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Mister S. Holmes
No clients, that was what greeted me at my office every morning, and it was all my fault because of that last case, from last year, the one with the thief and the whatever-the-jewl-was, the culprit knew he was exposed but then decided it was his life's purpose to not find himself in the wrong side of the bars, would've stayed outta a cell for the maximum of two week too if i didn't get into an actual fight with him at the last minute and... well... "won". Unfourtenetly, winning the way i did meant being deemed the most notorious criminal of the century by the papers. So basically I'm screwed and will continue to be screwed unless I change my name and be able to afford a convincing fake mustache, but by the time i can do the latter, i wouldn't need to do that and honestly, right now i could use some quick cash right now... if only some loser would come knocking on my door right now and plead me to find out the seceret of the mysterious triple M, espicially since i appear to have been given a letter from him, and it appears to be a clue. Now, this is highly out of character for him seeing as his trademark is making people know the crimes he commited were his, but now, i have a note in my hands saying "the last two M's stand for "mysterious murderer", but the first is my name!", not very flashy but at least i can assume it's the tripple MMM dude and I think it's a safe bet that the first "M" is the guy's name. However, not sure why he would try to get the attention of a detective though. Hey! Wait a minute! is that the sound of a desperate man punching my door?! looks like 1932 will be a good year after all... wait a sec. the man outdoors seems pretty smug, heck, he even just said "Hey buddy, we gotta talk about da big "M's" weirdo."! This guy's a cop, and not a very professional one too. He continues with the unprofessional introduction: "Name's officer Watson, you must be the guy with the letter related to the mystery law breaker so i would appreciate it if you come with me.", to which makes me pause, and then realize that i actually may be able to take advantage of this...
The officer sure is a hot shot, clearly he thinks that he has already intimidated me enough into following his orders so revealing I know his game all of a sudden would look like too much like i’m greatly disrespecting him, so I’ll need to slowly suggest that he was never the one in control in the first place, despite the truth being that it’s actually even ground at the moment. I guess I’ll start off with a seemingly oblivious comment to introduce him to me, “What’s a cop like you doing here?”, “Well, Mister Holmes, I heard you were given a mysterious letter a few days ago. It wasn’t some sort form of blackmail. Was it?”, he seems to think he just said the magic words to make me spill, “Well officer, you seem to be in a good mood for a cop looking into a blackmailing case. Are you even worried about my safety or are you just a little happy that a man dubbed a potential threat to society by the public may disappear from the streets without you guys even lifting a finger, not that you could really touch me anyway.”, he now looks a little surprised and baffled by what looks to him like paranoia of which may keep him from doing whatever he’s actually trying to do, “Now listen, I don’t exactly know why you think I’m working against you but this case may be connected to a notorious crime spree going on of which is causing more panic than a private eye who happened to get in trouble with the police. Besides, don’t you think that the fact that your business is suffering is actually a product of you not really being able to make the news and not the fact that they insulted you?”. Ok, that last bit actually struck a nerve, “Don’t you think that the reason I don’t make the news is because the papers already tainted my image enough to make people lose faith in me and in return, I’m left with so little detective things to do that I can’t screw up and then make the news?”, that little speech seems to have made the officer, Watson I think his name was before i just nicked named him by his profession, panic for a second. “Well, sorry! Ok!? I’m not trying to be your enemy anyway, I just want to make sure that you haven’t been doing anything reckless after receiving the letter and give you a bit of protection too. Isn’t that reason enough?”, ok, it looks like he’s still panicking, I guess things are working out for me. “If you were not working against me in anyway, then why were you trying to intimidate me earlier?”, now the realization that he’s just been played is sinking into him, time to pounce on him! “Hmmmm… Are you sure you thought it best for me to not do “anything reckless” or were you hoping I did and wanted to use my supposed findings as evidence? Either way, whatever you’re trying to accomplish, seeing as it involves me like this, it won’t be done cheaply.”, now that it was clear that I was in more control of the situation, he’s freaking out. Not what I had in mind but it’ll do. “Pleeeeease, mr. Holmes! I-uh, I may get denied promotion if this doesn’t goes well for me and that would make it easier for me to lose my job and [blabbering about some nonsense about becoming disgraced by his dad] so plea-he-he-ease mr. Holmes! I’M BEGGING YOU!”, sheesh, this may be a bigger pain than I anticipated. Well, at least Baker’s Street is a pretty unpopular ghetto or else my face would be back on the front page of the papers, which thankfully ensures the secrecy of my plans anyway. “Ok, officer watson, I’ll co-operate with you, but under the condition that we do this my way, something I assure you will be a small price to pay for this case to get closed -However, I would like some cash or nice food as a fee- so let’s get started. Do you mind fetching some police files and equipment as your first job as my assistant?”, I seemed to have offended him a bit, “Well, to be fair, you did seem to be doing a really arrand boy-type job when we first met. Heck, was stalking me even your original idea?”, he seems to have been panic induced by the question, “Yeah but, if I deny their authority like this, I could get in serious trouble and [blabbing about how bad it would be if he gets fired again] mr. Holmes, YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!!”, I’m beginning to sense a formula with this guy’s stupidity, “C’mon, officer, it’s not gonna be that bad, just craft up some convincing lies, say them over and over again ‘till you make it sound like you’re not lying, and BOOM! We continue with the investigation of the triple M-” “WAITAMINUTE! I don’t recall saying I was here to do anything related to the triple M, sir, although that is true.”, sigh, “So I made a deduction about the crime spree you were talking about, I don’t think it matters anyway since seeing as the guy seems the one who gave me this cryptic letter referring to his identity and I intend to figure out why he would give anyone, nonetheless a private detective, any clue to such information.”, Watson now looks absolutely terrified. Why don’t we add to this terror with a stare and a little comment like “So do you now know your situation, mr. Watson?”, eh? It looks like I’ve taken full control of the situation, the police files I may need are in my grasp! “O-ok mister H-Holmes. When do we purge the place?”, hmmm, the question’s actually making me think, I can’t just barge in and use Watson as a legalshield. But what Watson can do is act as a arrand boy like he seems to be used to being, “Tell you what, my dear Watson, why don’t you go to the files and take photos of all of the records of criminals with their names starting with the letter “M”. Both first, last and middle names, by the way. They may lead us to our culprit.”, well, it seems like that has given Watson a questioning look on his face, but it’s swiftly changing into a expression of confusion, “Well, for whatever reason you want to see the “M” named culprits, I’m still unsure about whether I can manage that. I have such a low rank due to my brashness and they may not like me putting my hands on those.”, seriously? “Watson, what is your exact job?”, his expression getting kinda suspicious, “I do undercover work. Why?”, to this, I believe the best is “”Why?” yourself, you’re practically a spy, getting into places certain people don’t want you to get when other do is your job!”, and with that, his supposed years of training pop up in his head again, his true potential, wrapped up in layers of both cokiness and self-doubt have vanished. Watson actually knows more about what he’s doing then even he probably actually realizes, and now the case is being finally delved into completely.
Despite the convincing I gave Watson, the case is still not progressing that much other than the fact that I now know that it’s very unlikely that any of these suspects are the triple M, since almost all of these crooks don’t really fit the guys memo. However, there is always a chance that one of these crooks maybe holding a dark secret that could get the case back on track. “Watson!? Can you come down here!?”, footsteps, “What is it? Are you already done developing the photos?”. He specified “developing the photos” as if he wanted to look at them with me. I hope I didn’t have him miss out on anything. “Can you go interrogate these crooks for me?”, he looks at the photos I’m referring to up until he figures that just carrying them along with him rather than trying to remember the information is a better idea. The thought of him gaining intelligence makes me think that this guy may be a better undercover agent than I thought and his expanding potential has been exaggerated by a built-in instinct to use his acting skills. I guess that may explain his sudden changes of mood yesterday. Well, I sure hope that’s the case because if there’s one thing I know about him for sure, it’s that he’s quite naive and that could end up messing up all he interviewing he’ll be doing. Speaking of Watson, he’s at the door, “um, bye mr. Holmes?”, the very idea of being responsible for ending a real interaction with another human being with a comforting silence like that makes me embarrassed, while also puts me in a much deeper state of thought. How long have I been living practically alone with the landlady making an occasional announcement of some sort of which would cause me to shiver in fear of her. Now that I think about it, it appears that I managed to have gotten used to the loneliness almost immediately after the first week. I guess I actually liked the solitude. Maybe Watson could get the job to go easier for me, but then again, if I make him do almost everything, I would just end up transferring large amounts of the trauma of crime solving from me to him and I’m not happy about looking at it that way,.
The mysterious triple M has never been caught before according to the interviews recently made by Watson. Of course, my newfound friend was not able to interview all of the suspects but for reasons that have crossed them off of the list of suspects, all except for the imprisoned one. That suspect, a former circus escape artist named Samuel Marks, may have snuck in and out of his cell to commit crimes as the triple M. It would make sense for him to be the culprit seeing as he was jailed for assault on his colleague as an act of betrayal, of which was revealed to have been done out of an exploitation of his partner’s trust, during his trial, which would explain why some of his victims are actually quite poor, during an attempt to steal money from the mayor of whom went to see the show, explaining why Triple M’s usually targets were richer people who had money stolen from them, which would confirm the hypothesis that the murders and burglaries are connected. But since there could be factors that suggest otherwise, I’m doing research on him to see if he could pull off such a feat. So I’ll be heading out soon with my hat on and my boots shined (and sharpened, incase things get ugly, y’know) so I can see the prison, and hey, I do miss the days of old when I could investigate to my heart’s contempt. However maybe I shouldn’t wear my hat, because the funny thing about it is that on one of my early-ish cases, I got into a bar fight seeing as I tried blending in so hard I didn't draw the line between what I could do and what was way over my head at the time, the consequence being that the sides of my hat were cut off along with symmetrical scars on my ears, both aftermaths being visual trademarks of mine, rendering whatever undercover skills I have useless to an extent. Bah! Who am I kidding with this “play-it-safe” nonsense? Certainly not myself. It has been a long time since I had a good sneak around, or a comforting swing of the fist only for it to make a extra rewarding contact of some scary loser’s face even it makes me the papers call me a danger again! Ok, that last bit is actually creeping me out right now, makes me torn between embracing my personality, even if I later gain reason to regret it, and replanning so I can eliminate any possibility of unnecessary damage. Either way, I’m going out and head for the prison. Staying indoors won’t help my mental state if it becomes a problem and I’ll need the possible evidence at the prison.
I can’t seem to be able to just walk up to the place and look without getting on the bad side of the cops. Looks like I’ll have to think outside the box for this. May as well wait for a idea to pop into my head while I stroll around town looking for a way. The shops may have something of use. Maybe I could buy a pair of binoculars from the toy store and then alter it. Can’t say I ever been in that sort of place since I was too young to have the capacity to take reality too seriously like I have a habit of doing nowadays, and it wouldn’t help me if I randomly come across someone that remembers my little incident a year ago and starts panicking along with their kid. The embarrassment I would have to deal with for indirectly traumatizing a child. But at least that child could be a possible victim whose death could be prevented by the likes of me. ‘Guess I’ll just have to open the door and see how the following events will unfold myself. [Cer-re-ee-ak!], well, looks like the small shop might be empty except for me and that nobody at the cash register today. Guess I’ll venture deeper into the store to find some binoculars and head ou-@#$%! Someone else who just so happens to wearing one of those crowned shaped beanie things is here! I should hide in the bathroom and wait for- ah c’mon! What am I thinking? I must’ve been alone for so long that despite the fact that I’ve haven’t lost my touch with my stealth, I can’t help but feel like I should use it to avoid someone as harmless as a random stranger. Imagine how worse off I would be if I was giving a public speech. The amount of quick self-esteem breakdowns I’ve been having have gotta end right here and now. I’m going to go pick up the binoculars, but them and- “Hey, Sherry!”, I think I vaguely remember that nickname and the beanie wearing man seems to have been the one who spoke it. “I’ve seen you on the papers not so long ago, everything alright with the private eye business?”, I have no recollection of his face but his voice is vaguely familiar, “You were a client of mine weren’t you, one of the ones who figured his or her spouse did something and wanted me to throw the police of their trail I believe you were, right?”, my beanie hat friend pauses to think, “I guess that you’re kind of right but that’s wasn’t exactly the case (pun not intended). Infact I think it ended up being more of a quick favor than anything like that really required a private eye. But hey, who has the right to beat up a guy like you over a matter like this?”, I can’t help but stand here baffled. How out of touch am I? He’s talking about cute it is that his son trying to copy him up to the tiniest details on his beanie and how this same little boy’s birthday’s coming up after he mentions working at a factory that does plane parts and how it’s gonna bring jobs back during this dreaded economic depression that’s going on. How popular these magazines made out of comic strips are getting, the convenience of the invention the lighter and even little cans for literally @#$%ing spraying whipped cream. I know people like conveniences but isn’t the ability to spray something as simple as @#$%ing whipped cream seems overkill. What next, special platforms for people to jump on so they go higher? Progress never made so little sense to me in my life. Wait a minute, didn’t this guy say he worked at a place made planes parts? I should probably ask about. “Hey, can I interrupt your little technology ramble for a second, sir?”, his mind seems to have gotten back into this specific point in time rather than other current events he found himself in, “Um, I don’t see why not, Sherry, ask away.”, good to hear pal, “Ok, who are your company’s nearby buyers? I think I may be of need of a plane. Investigation stuff. Y’know?”
So here it is, Benardio’s Plane rentals. Let’s see if I could get a plane. Shall we? “Hello mister [look at name tag only to find out he doesn’t have one so I desperately look for some other form of identification and fail so I call him] worker at the desk [out of out of control panic over such a simple thing, darn it].”, he looks at and sighs, probably thinking something like not another weirdo seeing as his expression is more exhausted than offended, unless, of course, that’s his offended face and his exhausted face looks totally different, especially since I hate it when I misread people only to react to it in such a way that I only give myself a problem rather than adapt to my surroundings. For example, I could think that by looking at his pants, I could figure out whether they look weird because he’s really fat or he’s carrying a weapon only to find out about the dog that’s been living in there. So I’d gotta stay alert and figure act neutrally towards his behavior, like how he’s moving his mouth and no words are coming ou- “I SAID, WHAT THE @#$% DO YOU WANT!?”, oops. “Oh, um, sorry, I was distracted by myself. I just so happen to be a private eye who has a bit of a screwed up life so logically I can get a little paranoid but I can get so carried away about assuming the worse that I [unsure about what I’m saying now, I’m think I’m so scared that I’ve gone on auto pilot] which is why I hate red shoes!”. The manager appears to have been confused and is now suspicious of me. “Can I just have a plane ride that goes on this route [show map of route that just so happen to intersect the city prison multiple times in multiple perspectives of it].”, the guy at the the desk is thinking while studying the map, “So mister random person who just so happens to be a private eye that just so happens to be carrying binoculars, (yeah, I saw those buddy), and just so happens wants to go look at a place jam-packed with with crooks, that seems kinda suspicious. So sir, may I ask you about your authority of this investigation?”, drat, the guy’s a legal sceptic. “Look sir, I have friends in the force [half bluff] and I can assure you that even if you doubt my reliability, I have the law’s absolute consent on this case [total bluff, but still a dosey].”, take that sceptic. “So, you think you have me convinced, eh? Sure I understand that people like you may conveniently have surprise friends in high places. But why is a private detective using friends in that specific high place? Sure these may be honest to goodness friends were talking about here but I’d think that the chances of them being conveniently powerful enough to back you up to get close to a place like this seems slim. Besides, If you have such powerful friends, why aren't they they able to let you see the place in person for yourself?”, @#$% those are good points. Looks like I’m gonna have to play a trump card, FAKED PROOF!! “Can I go use the pay phone real quick?”, the desk guy nods, “OK, you can do it as long as I follow you.”, he seems to think he’s caught my bluff, however, he’s only making my plan go more smoothly. “Ok then, come with me.”, as we head to the phone, the desk guy tries to read me for any signs of nervousness, hope he doesn’t notice that I’m practically laughing inside. Here we are at the phone [click, twist, twist, turn, turn]. “911, what is your emergency?”, hope they don’t lose their patience with this next question, “Can I talk to mr. Watson please? It’s a family matter but we haven’t seen each other for so long that he’s changed his phone number and so I can’t call him.”, the nobody at the other end thinks for a second, “Alright, but make it quick.”. Now things will be as easy as cake. Time to whisper :“Watson, can you convincingly pretend you’re a super tough cop who’s making some realistic but scary threat to a random guy who won’t follow orders?”
Nothing like a good bluff to get things done. I’m all strapped into the cockpit and ready to go. The pilot, of whom to my perspective, is literally faceless other than the fact that he’s standing up very straight, one the other hand, doesn’t seem to happy about his passenger winding up on his plane through intimidation, especially since his passenger seems to have a very suspicious route in mind, and now that we’re finally in the air, he’s ready to ask questions like he’ll won’t live to see tomorrow, which makes sense because if he’s paranoid enough, he may actually think that this day may be his last. “Didn’t I see you on the papers once? Because I seem to recall you being a private eye, and not to mention a particularly dirty one.”, I can’t stand these confrontations. Why does it seem like I’m just plain suspicious? At least I’m made for this kind of thing. “Really, I’m kind of a jobless at the point. Still own my office bu-ut I really never had a case in a while so I’m gonna get a feel for what it would be like if by some miracle I finally gotten a new case. Y’know elaborate schemes, getting close to crooks, dealing with paranoia, and my favorite part, bluffing.”, and batta bing, batta boom! He understands in the best way a regular person could understand a serial killer (don’t ask me to go into detail about it, though). “But are you sure we won’t get into trouble for getting so close to the prison, mister Holmes?”, I can’t help but sigh. “Of course I am! Now get on with it!”, but the faceless pilot posture doesn’t seem to have changed since I first got on the plane., which is actually odd considering that he’s stubborn enough to keep a straight pose moving only his hand so he can control the plane. If he was really nervous, he would be looking straight at me every now and then to insure I didn’t go crazy unless he A) thought I would rip his face of, B) didn’t consider me too much of threat, both are real low possibilities because he would still have to see my face to check if I was ready for the trip which means C), he’s hiding something. “I know that I’m about to ask a strange favor. but can you please look me in the eyes? It’s kind of uncomfortable having someone hide there face from me like this for such long periods of time. Y’know? Besides, it’s not like a little glance will screw up the flight.”, but my very acknowledgement of his lack of eye contact should be devastating to him if hiding something. He gives a quick glance too fast for me to register “There, happy now?”. Does he really think I’m that stupid? “Cut your slack! No one just hides their face from someone else like this!”, the pilot still hides their face from me, probably under the illusion that just the simple act of not looking at me would be enough. How about a little mind games to get a better look at his face? Just take off his hat thing and… “HEY! GIVE THAT BA- AHH!!!” at the last minute he put his hands on his face but it was too late. I already took a good look at his face of which was already heavily imprinted into my brain because I had spoke with this man earlier. It was the beanie headed guy from the toy shop, and judging by his growling, his voice is now an amalgam of the one I heard earlier and the one when he wouldn’t turn to face me, but I’m sure there are other faked voices mixed in there as well. “You one of Watson’s friends?”, no answer, “Does your name contain any M’s?” no real answer, but a smile, however, does appear along with a bit of laughing. “Heh, I guess I may as well tell you. I mean, what does it matter to me now anyway? My name’s James Moriaty, my last name being the third M you’re looking for, and I must ask you a question myself. Do you know how to fly this thing?” and with that, he immediately parachutes himself away to safety. Ain’t that just plain grand? So I’m just stuck here, trying to fiddle with the levers and not get myself killed (who knew private eyes could die this way?), and if I do crash this thing, I hope it crashes to wherever that jerk flew off to. Of course I could just did what he did but the plane could still crash into anything so I guess I’ll at least have to aim It somewhere else. I guess I could try that big lake…
I think it would be best not to tell Watson that I just got into a lawsuit. Sure, if I could get them to believe the whole confrontation with Moriaty, I won’t have to spend a penny in the trial’s aftermath, if not a penny I don’t have. At least the whole parachuting was cool. Although that did lead to a trespassing lawsuit of which may not go as well.
Where do we go from that last spectacle? Moriarty has been found out, only to escape to a far off land of which he may never return from. But here I am, with not a lead on where to find the guy. In this story that is my life, I have gotten writer’s block, unless you call stupid things like preparing coffee progress. Sure, I should probably contact Watson right now but I kinda don’t wanna. It’s just so nice lounging around after all that Moriarty nonsense. Do you really want me to get up that badly? Fine, fine, I’ll call that stupid cop so we could get over with this.
Watson came here in almost no time (but the 911 dude took some time to convince), ith the looks of his eyes being those a child at a candy store on a face that was ready for serious butt kicking, both facial aspects I’ll hate to see fade fade away when I reveal the specifics of my findings. “Hold your horses their, Watty, my boy. While I did find out who the M dude was [Watson facial expression becomes an exaggerated version of the last one], he got pretty far away from me after he revealed himself and now I don’t know where he is. [Watson’s facial expression becomes the most depressing little thing ever, either that, or it was the fact that it was so cheerful a while ago. It just makes me want to supercharge his mood again.] But at least we know his name is Moriarty now!”, that last bit seems to have made Watson’s head jerk up with enthusiasm, but the expression doesn’t seem to be one of high self esteem, in fact he actually seems worried, “Did you say Moriarty? [Yep.] As in, COMMISSIONER Moriarty? [Commissioner? What?]”. The man’s a police chief? How can this… Of course. That was how he was able to keep his identity private. He was able to rig the evidence so that only a few signature facets of his crimes would be noticeable and he was also able to mess up the investigations on the case as well. He could come up with the most poorly planned scheme ever and still make sure that it will never get solved. But how does that fit in with trying to get so close to me? Sure, he may just be doing this all for the thrill of it and getting near a private eye like me was his idea of a good game of chicken, and the whole private eye thing in specific was because he figured that doing so with the police would end up being a rigged game and in the process, boring as well. But that doesn’t explain why I was picked. Did he just pick my name randomly out of a hat filled with other private eyes? Well, for whatever reason, we had to plan a strike against him pretty soon. Getting found out would probably lead Moriarty to do some pretty daring scheme as both a lukewarmly exposed wanted criminal and a high ranking police officer in order to keep his identity secret, or merely take back his control of the situation. However, I guess we can’t counter what he’s not doing so we may need to wait a while to figure out his plans. “Alright, Watson, can you be a good boy and go keep tabs on the guy? [he nods] Then I think this meeting is adjourned” and with that, he runs off out of pure loyalty for his friend, and yet what have I done for him? Made nothing but a good deal with him. He investigates by using his privilege as a tool, I investigate through haphazardly executed plans that turn into crazy, irresponsible adventures that’ll most likely result in damage of some sort that may eventually influence Watson himself. Thinking about him getting hurt by my actions makes me feel I should proba- “SHERLOCK!”-@#$%! The landlady! “What did I do or didn’t do this time?”, ms. Hudson poked her head into my room, however this time her green eyes are not set to kill, something I never thought I’d see. “What’s with that guy who's been coming here?”, well, I guess she never really met the guy but I would think she would’ve made contact with him for whatever reason earlier. “Well, ms. Hudson, why haven’t you ask him yourself. Don’t you see a potential customer or something worth a landlady’s attention like that?”, her expression doesn’t change. Judging by her lack of offense, all this seems to have done was inform her that I was willing to talk about this subject of which she probably does feel like it’s worth her attention. “Well, yeah it’s “worth a landlady’s attention like that!”, that’s why I hadn’t gotten near him in the first place. He seems very suspicious and so I don’t feel comfortable getting near him. Heck, I think he’s trying to blackmail you or something fishy like that. Isn’t he? I mean, as stupidly straight forward I’m acting towards what I believe is a very dirty matter, surely you’re on the bad end of whatever deal he’s making and so I can help you get out of it.”, help get rid of Watson? is she out of her mind!? “Leave the man alone. He’s a just a rookie cop that happen to come across me only to get into a conversation that let to the formation of a little project we’ve been working on lately that you must not reference in front of anyone or who knows who will know and that person may end up screwing everything up.”, this did not seem to convince her, if not make her feel like her point has been strengthened, “But that’s just it! He could be lying or sent here to monitor you or you could be the one lying one lying to me and-” “Ms. Hudson, the answer is no, don’t kick him out. I’m sure you have a good point with reasoning like that but not everyone, and “everyone” does NOT highlight those claiming to be a cop, and even if you’re right, I’d advise you to wait until you get evidence that reveals who here is right and who here is wrong or in my case, I recall you saying that “or you could be the one lying one lying to me”. so yeah, I now have serious landlady distrust issues now, how about we shrug off with milkshakes or whatever quick little snack we could get without looking like a dating couple or something like that [and I have no intention of paying for it and I’m just seeing if I could get a quick snack here].”, her eyes are set to “near death mode” now, “Sherlock, even if I do agree to that offer, it won’t be on me. You need to start buying your own things [with money I just happen to not have, so I of course say “But it’s particularly impossible for me because I can’t afford it.” to which she replies “In that case my refusal was out of disinterest”].”, @#$%, how does a guy like m get a bite to eat for once in these dark times?! “Ok, you may have avoided what you feel was the unnecessary spending of cash, but my stance on what happens to Watson has not changed. Got it?”, she stares disapprovingly of me. “Maybe, mr. Holmes, but only “maybe”.”, eh, close enough to “yes”, I guess it’ll have to do see how hard it is to argue with her, but as relatively mundane her stubbornness is, I can't help but feel like there’s some ulterior motive behind it all. Heck, sometimes I fantasize about what would happen if I tried to find out if there is. My hypothesis best case scenario was that either I couldn’t find any or I do find out and don’t tell ms. Hudson (assuming it didn’t make me go insane and commit suicide if not give me a fatal heart attack) because the best case scenario of that happening would be her going into a violent mental breakdown, with the more likely worst case scenario being her killing me. Yeah, she creeps me out that much, at least when I think of her having secrets since she’s already on the creepy side but as an average landlady with that just happens to own her land with an iron fist, I’ve gotten used to her. ‘Guess her tyrant side seems less scary when you get so used to it that it seems like everyone has to deal with it. Then again, I guess being under the illusion that some of your more exclusive problems are also those of everyone on the planet is sadisticly comforting. Hold on, I’m hearing rushing footsteps of which have also gotten Hudson’s attention too. Should I grab a knife or a bigger potential weapon before seeing who it is or is the rarity of the sound of running just triggering a instinctual sudden paranoid need to attack? It could just be some rookie paperboy who likes to run;[footsteps get replace with the sound of vigorously fast and LOUD banging], ah @#$%, ah @#$%, ah @#$%! Who the @#$% is there?!
At first, I was scared when the knocking started, but then I realized that my brain was coming up with attack schemes like never before. It was then when I remembered that I dedicated my life to deal with this kind of stuff, a realization that consumed me with a powerful nostalgia wave of all the fights I’ve been through, swiftly replacing my fear with excitement. After reassuring ms. Hudson I begun to execute my flawless sneak attack, so now that I’m done going through what I believe was ten long hours of overly careful and cautious sneaking towards the door, my shaking hand (of which is on the verge of reverting back into a fist shape again) is finally making any attempt to put itself on the door knob. Now, my hand has gotten so tight it has practically became one with the knob (which probably had something to do with its urge to become a fist), making it easier to open the door. Now all I have to do is-”SHERLOCK!”-drat, it’s just Watson. Now I can’t carry out the sneak attack, unless of course I open the door and punch Watson so quickly that ms. Hudson and Watson will just blame me punching after Watson revealing himself on my reaction time. So, y’know, POW! Nice feeling my fist hitting some human flesh for once after that whole incident that led to me getting in trouble for feeling my fist hitting some human flesh on purpose. I suck at learning from my mistakes and I also apparently don’t care, not that such a trait is good for survival. “Sherlock! What the heck was that for?” is, of course, the first words that came out of his now bleeding mouth. “Oh, Sorry ol’ chap, I was a little carried away, if you had shouted my name just a few seconds earlier as your means of revealing yourself, I would’ve been able to avoid this [I suddenly remember my full strength just by glancing at my friend, finally infesting me with the feeling of guilt I deserve] horrific accident that we, should fix right away. However, I think I should do most of the work out of forgiveness. I’ll even prepare drinks!”, of course, everyone else had went through their own little reactions while I was blabbing. Watson didn’t believe a word about it being a complete accident, but he did see that I was legitimately sorry and if he didn’t I may go insanely lonely after losing my sweet, sweet taste of friendship. Ms. Hudson at first didn’t seem to believe my punch was accidental as well, only, I think she thought that because Watson was a problem after all. But then she noticed that I had gotten severely embarrassed and her basic ability to read expressions mixed with her stubbornness towards her opinion of Watson and the fact that I punched his face in the first place that her opinion of the man has reverted back to a more confused version of its earlier, less certain (yet still fairly) biased state. Anyhow, Watson needs some bandaging, boom, we bandage him. I say something about making drinks, boom, I make these drinks of interest. Watson has a story he has to tell, boom, we get ourselves seated and ms. Hudson minds our own business because she desperately needed a break from all the confusion and this meeting may contain information we might want to keep secret. “Ok Watson, what the heck did you come to say that was so important that you stayed to say it despite being punched so hard in the face you started bleeding.”, disclaimer: his answer will be clarified and have my moments of saying “speak up” or “what was that” and/or other clarification requests like that taken out for your convenience as a reader. “Well, there’s not really any other way to say this but… Moriarty will be giving a speech to the whole police department tomorrow-[I spit my beverage out involuntarily out of getting surprised] and I was thinking that-[I go into serious coughing fit since I still haven’t recovered from the shock] maybe we should-[real big and loud cough] do [pauses as he braces for a final cough or something] something about it.”, ah, @#$%! “Watson, do you know how much damage he could do with the conference if he were to plan on doing any. Of course, this is only assuming nobody at least tries to stop him?” he nods awkwardly. “Yeah, I know that, but what the @#$% is your plan exactly? That was what I was looking for when I came here”, of course it was, Watson, but this is a circumstance where planning may actually be more of his job than mine this time. Unless you were to consider the plan to be so genius that only a high amount of brainpower could create it. “Actually, I was thinking that you may be the real one who should be having what it takes to deal with him. Y’see, do you think the police would really trust a man like Moriarty if they knew his true nature? Of course not! So all we need to do is convince the police department of his guilt and then the menace goes away, and if there is something that could easily make or break our accusations, it’s ethos! So since you are a presumably law abiding citizen and officer, there’s no need for a untrustworthy and exploitive knave like me to desperately try to convince them of such an absurd idea!”, this only made Watson stare at me. “But Sherlock, not only are you way more experienced about this sort of than me, it’s something the police know very well about you. Sure they may kind of hate you for that but do you really think that I could really pull off such a stunt? If this is all just a excuse to train my detective skills, it seems a bit overkill, and if it’s just a shameful act of cowardice for authority after all the trouble you went through after that one incident and the newfound lack of comfort for this sort of stuff after spending so much nice quiet time alone, I’m definitely not doing it. There are things that you are capable of that I’m not because you’re a “untrustworthy and exploitive knave”! For example: how the heck did you find out that Moriarty was the guy we were looking for?!”, well, I guess he does has good points, however that doesn’t change the fact that he ruined my private little genius moment. “Fine then, I guess we’ll have to do it together. Why don’t we both file a lawsuit against the man on behalf of the victims’ loved ones and use our combined advantages to take him down once and for all despite being the dysfunctional duo that we are?”, Watson just stares at me. Maybe I crafted such a good argument that I completely stupefied him. I guess a little brainfart can’t really stop a great thinker in his tracks at all, I mean, they do say that mistakes are good as long as they’re not repeated. But whether my mistake and my good plan were related, just being as clever as me is a impressive skill even if mistakes are made or not. A show of both appreciation and amazement is probably what’s about to come out of his opening mouth. “Um, sir?”, he say, of which I naturally answer “Yeeess?”. “Where the @#$% did the whole court case thing come from!?”, well, I guess I should’ve explained that sooner. “Because if I’m gonna let the police department know I’m involved, I want to do so in a legitimate-looking manner. I mean, if I just come knocking on their door randomly, it would seem like I wasn’t in my right mind.”, Watson raised his eyebrows, erasing the suggestion of his naive attitude from when we first met completely. I guess acting can do wonders to what you can read from a person based solely on their posture. “ Um, Sherlock? You do know that we suspected that you’ve been given some form of contact with the guy from the start? Please don’t ask us how we found out [however they probably already looked at the letter after the mail man who had it reported it and had it sent to me anyway so they could have me figure it out] but I’m sure you could just get direct contact with them and everything will just work out for you.”, well I guess this is true, BUT: “I would think that you’re lies would make them unaware that I was looking into the case. So it could get you in trouble if they found out you were in cahoots with me. Of course, I guess that would mean that we can’t both file the lawsuit, just me, but still, the use of a courtroom makes sense.”, Watson is about to open his mouth, but now it’s closing. Probably because he was going to argue that I was jumping to conclusions about what he lied about to the police, then changed his mind when he remembered that I was right.
We are now about to leave, with bags packed with scripts for our testimonies at the court and whatever we may find ourselves being of need of during the trial (including things we may need to use incase of something pretty stupid and/or unlikely happen, heh heh), not to mention that we’re absolutely excited about how our plan is going to work out in the long run after we step out of the courthouse like heroes after winning a hard fought battle of the wits (but then again, we have been taking extreme measures to prepare, heh heh). I mean, I’ll finally have my livelihood restored now that I may be able to finally attract revenue once again so I can finally leave that outright creepy ms. Hudson behind, Watson could get promoted and who knows, maybe I could bring some sort of goldenage to the city. Besides, can you really think up scenarios of which we haven’t thought about that would mess up such a- what-the-@#$%!? I had just opened my door only to be faced with the sight of Moriarty, who was apparently walking towards my door and now that he saw us, he’s holding up twin pistols now that he has caught a glance at us, of which looked like they were already firmly gripped in his hands while he was carrying them in his pockets. A grim, non reassuring smile had also grown on his face when we made eye contact. He seems to be here to kill us, but maybe I could buy us some more time. “What’s with the guns? Came up with a speech to give to your fellow police officers so you could make Watson suspicious so you could bring us together in one place so it would be easier to kill us?”, his grin becomes even nastier. “Oh yes, mister Holmes. I know fully well when I’m not at the high ground so I figured that if I killed you, life would go much more easier for me, basically because you won’t be the ones to have a life to worry about. But if you think I’m just gonna shoot you, keep in mind I’m also gonna hafta destroy your credibility as well as do the same to Watson. I mean, you know how the cops are, prioritizing their victims, of which is actually a little trick of mine act-OOF!” he just got punched by Watson, “Did you feel that, @#$%? Because you just got it in your face and may just ag-GACK!”, the just then overly cocky zealous Watson had just been kicked the, well, @#$, literally. “Hitting your superior just makes the reputation tattering bit of the job easier for me, jerk!”, and with a pointing of his gun, and a pulling of his trigger, Watson falls to the ground, absolutely bloody and probably dying. But that can’t happen, right?... It happened, and now the gun’s turned on me now. I can now feel searing pain and the world seems to be vanishing along with it and every other feeling in my body (heh heh)…
My name is Sherlock Holmes, and I am a private eye, I had just been recently hired to solve a murder case, the victim, stole some jewels so I’m currently hunting him down… WHAT THE @#$%?! I just said something that made no sense! How does a dead man commit crimes and run away from private eyes? Answer: A WORLD FILLED WITH MAGIC AND DREAMS! But how could a mere homo sapien like me go into such a world. I’m not sure, I guess what I have to do is solve the mystery of interest, and isn’t how I got here, nor is it related to the whole murdered burglar zombie, nor do I think I know what it is or whether I’ll ever figure out what it is or not... I need a drink. I can’t seem to remember what beverage was named what (wasn’t “baseball” the one with caffeine in it?), but I could use one, and I seem to remember a place where I have friend who works there. But I’ll actually have to go there and see him or her to remember his or her name. However I think it starts with “W”. Either way, the world seems as out of whack as I am.
Here I am. I finally managed to get to the right place, or what I at least think is the right place, and as it turns out, the guy that worked here of whom I knew was actually named “Moriarty”, guess I gotten his name upside down. He’s currently cleaning the wooden coffee cups, however despite my preference for the caffeinated stuff, he seems to want to get me rip-roaring drunk away, ignoring my stubborn nagging about how I want to clear my head rather than screw it. In fact I’m a bit weary about sipping the stuff that actually sitting in my cup because he seems to be just as stubborn for whatever reason. Seems kinda suspicious. “Bad day M? Because their are easier ways of getting sympathy than getting them loopy, Y’know. But of course you’ may be trying to do it this way because you already went and messed up your noggin.”, his response to the accusation is just looking at me. “C’mon, Sherry. Would dumbing down your perception of reality really be the worse thing in the world for you right now?”, I can’t help but nod, making it clear that I was offended by his suggestion that “dumbing down my perception of reality” was what I needed, yet he still seems to treat me like a idiot for having this mindset. May as well go play it safe and get inside the kitchen to make my own cup of joe (or jack, still not entirely sure about these nicknames). “Whoa there, Sherry. What are you heading there for?”, this doesn’t stop me. “You’re not supposed to go there, Sher!”, this doesn’t stop me. “Sorry M, but I don’t trust that what you gave me was what I wanted.”, by now, I almost finished preparing my cup, but this doesn’t stop him. “SHERLOCK! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? WHAT WERE YOU THI-” and he won’t stop, and neither had I.
I had just now awoken from a dream where… actually I can’ remember it. My memory is a little fuzzy about the subject. Ms. Hudson is currently shaking me, repeating the words “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” like a idiot for some reason. She has also been joined here by multiple police officers, probably here to investigate what happened, can’t say they’ll be able to know the whole story through their investigation, though seeing as Moriarty spoke about ruining our “reputations”. Speaking about Moriarty, where’s Watson, is he...? I probably shouldn’t assume the worst because there’s surely more likely outcome that’s also very positive like… none I can think of. May as well get u- wait, what was that? I thought I just felt and heard something fall out of my hand. Hmm, looks like I wasn’t imagining things since there’s this gun right where I thought I heard the noise. Now I know why Hudson’s is yelling. “Sigh, well, whatever I was thinking, it wasn’t suicide, I can assure you, I just happened to make a enemy who just happened to have a firearm nearby.”, ms. Hudson has reacted by looking at me like an idiot. “But the gun-” “Was in my hand, probably because the jerk put it there to get the police of his trail (despite being so close to them in the first place due to the nature of his occupation), the last thing I heard him say had to do with “ruining” us.”, Hudson backs away as if I just spewed out random nonsense. Well, seeing as she’s not really the one who can really do anything about the full story, it looks like I’ll have to expand the loop of the scoop. “Hey officer! [officer in question looks at me and then points at himself with a confused and dopey face] Yeah you, [officer makes goofy grin as if I was first person to give him any sort of attention in years] and stop looking like a idiot, I wanted to have a chat with whoever the heck is in charge of the investigation, and maybe the judge who gave the warrant for it after I’m done with that! [officer makes rude gesture at me] What do you want me to say?! “Pretty please with a cherry on top”!? [apparently, yes]”
It took a while, but the peculiarly reluctant officer finally got his superior... of which just so happened to be none other than moriarty, of whom is sweating like crazy at the sight of me. The @#$ being the one man I have the resentment for at the moment. But I can’t help but smirk knowing fully that this will be fun. “Hello mr. cheif! How do you do?”, he calms down a little at my reaction to his appearance, probably under the impression that when he shot me my brain would’ve gotten messed up enough that I forgotten his existence to some extent. Time for a not-so subtle and not-so little wink of the eye. “Hi mister Sherlock. You seemed kinda eager to want to leave this world, didn’t you.”, I wink again, even more obviously. “Except that it wasn’t suicide, I know that for sure. Y’see, I’m looking for someone [nearby officers raise eyebrows] of whom you probably know by now as the triple M [eyebrows reach the sky]. He planned on killing me and the officer (please don’t ask for details about my investigative relationship with the guy) that happened to be nearby when no witnesses were around, and to top that off, he prepare my public image to be untrustworthy enough to not be believed when people get their hands on the fact that I was on to him.” Moriarty has gotten so hilariously tense, his ability to move has vanished, his expression has gone unreadable yet remains expressive. “So, y’know, I just thought it would be smart if I helped you guys filter the faked stuff from the real stuff so you could just get the facts.”, Moriarty twitched, but I think he’ll quickly come up with a knee-jerked improvisation soon, “But mr. Holmes, how do we know we know you’re not pulling our legs in order to dispose of incriminating evidence?”, well, the answer will lie in his answers to my next questions. “How do I know you haven’t planted incriminating evidence in their yourself, Moriarty?”, his expression gets hostile. “(You trying to pry a confession out of me, Sher?)”, his pose gone from frighten to ready for an attack, but what he needs right now at this very moment is to not being taken’ seriously. “What was that, mr. Moriarty? You whispered and I couldn’t hear you. If this has something to do with the officer that was nearby when I was shot, I think you should elaborate, but this time, loud enough for your accomplices to hear.”, now listen closely. “Your friend Watson!? He’s dead! Found him in the river! You happy now!?”, not at the sound that my buddy’s dead… rest in peace lad… But now, at least I have a trump card. “Moriarty, I said that there were no witnesses during the shooting. How did you figure out the name of the officer next to me so quickly?”, Moriarty flinches, says “I made a deduction, how dare you criticize me for doing something you do all the time!” but the police were already on his trail when he mention the whole finding-Watson-in-a-river thing. Apparently, Watson made himself very popular since we first met and his colleagues were shocked to hear that not only was he found dead, but that the police cheif just so happened to forget to tell them that their friend was dead.
And that was the end to a series of events that led to the confession and arrest of cheif James Moriarty, and I’ll say it again, may officer John Watson rest in peace.