Elementary Fic: Warden of the Watsons
This is a 295 word Elementary drabble for the Numbers Challenge at 1_million_words ENJOY!!
Joan Watson had been at enough crime scenes to know how to conduct herself. She knew that the police had to interview any witnesses, and that most crucial of all, evidence had to be collected.
She deliberately stayed away from the bystanders giving their statements, but she could still overhear a young mother, clutching her toddler to her chest in a death grip, telling the cops, “I only got a partial view but it was a New York plate, tag number ending in 9-4-4.”
Instead, she focused on the paramedics assessing her mother’s injuries.
Joan and Mary Watson decided to have their weekly dinner at a local restaurant near the brownstone, the Café Clover--Joan loved it because of their homemade tacos, Mary loved their shepherd’s pie-and they had been walking back down Stamford Street and towards home when it happened.
Joan, seeing that she had a call from Sherlock, paused to answer it. “Mom, I’m sorry I have to take this. Sherlock’s gotten the lab results back from the medical examiner.”
Mary nodded in understanding and moved a couple of feet away to give her daughter some privacy.
Both women had their backs turned away from the street when the sound of people yelling caused them both to pivot back towards the commotion.
A car was headed straight towards the Watsons and thankfully Mary was quick enough to push her and her daughter out of the path of the speeding car.
Unfortunately, Mary took the brunt of the fall onto the pavement.
Thankfully, her mother had suffered minor bruising with the paramedics only needing to bandage some superficial wounds.
But Joan knew that this “accident” could have been much worse and she vowed to bring the perpetrator to justice.
Anyway she had to.
Joan Watson had been at enough crime scenes to know how to conduct herself. She knew that the police had to interview any witnesses, and that most crucial of all, evidence had to be collected.
She deliberately stayed away from the bystanders giving their statements, but she could still overhear a young mother, clutching her toddler to her chest in a death grip, telling the cops, “I only got a partial view but it was a New York plate, tag number ending in 9-4-4.”
Instead, she focused on the paramedics assessing her mother’s injuries.
Joan and Mary Watson decided to have their weekly dinner at a local restaurant near the brownstone, the Café Clover--Joan loved it because of their homemade tacos, Mary loved their shepherd’s pie-and they had been walking back down Stamford Street and towards home when it happened.
Joan, seeing that she had a call from Sherlock, paused to answer it. “Mom, I’m sorry I have to take this. Sherlock’s gotten the lab results back from the medical examiner.”
Mary nodded in understanding and moved a couple of feet away to give her daughter some privacy.
Both women had their backs turned away from the street when the sound of people yelling caused them both to pivot back towards the commotion.
A car was headed straight towards the Watsons and thankfully Mary was quick enough to push her and her daughter out of the path of the speeding car.
Unfortunately, Mary took the brunt of the fall onto the pavement.
Thankfully, her mother had suffered minor bruising with the paramedics only needing to bandage some superficial wounds.
But Joan knew that this “accident” could have been much worse and she vowed to bring the perpetrator to justice.
Anyway she had to.