Sherlock Holmes and The Star of the East (5 of 8)
Author: 
capt_facepalm
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Sarah Sawyer, others
Summary: Christmas time brings a new case for the world's only consulting detective.
Warnings: (cave canem)
Word Count: 10 000+ (This chapter 1240)
Author's Notes: For Challenge 002 at
violinandwatch
Previous Chapters
December 23rd
December 24th
December 25th (part one)
December 25th (part two)
.oOOo.
December 26th
Lady Sylvia Morcar would not take ‘Don’t call us; we’ll call you’ for an answer. So no one should have been surprised when she arrived at Scotland Yard early in the morning, impeccably dressed and ready for battle. Junior officers and other staff parted before her like the Red Sea as she made her way to DI Lestrade’s office. There she filed the paperwork to retrieve her stolen property and demanded to learn the details of the case. She had received no information since that day when Sherlock Holmes had waltzed away with her beloved pet Borzoi, claiming the case of the missing gem was already solved. It was all very well that the gem was recovered, but she wanted her dog back too.
Her anger changed to concern when Sherlock showed her the CCTV footage of her dog and Dr Watson being abducted. Lestrade confirmed that this footage was connected to the disappearance of the John Watson featured in the news broadcasts.
‘I’m so terribly sorry that your friend is all caught up in this, Mr Holmes. The Star of the East may be as cursed as they say.’
It was clear that everyone on the Lestrade’s team were concerned about John Watson’s fate. Tactics were proposed, considered, and refined. Sherlock insisted that the abductors were thieves and not likely to turn to murder. Lady Sylvia offered to post a substantial reward for information leading to John’s safe return. Reluctantly, DI Lestrade had to turn down the offer. It was too much like paying ransom, and it would set a bad precedent.
They settled on disclosing the gem’s theft and recovery in a press conference. If Sherlock was right, the kidnappers were not professionals. Once they heard of the gem’s recovery, they would have no reason to continue to hold the dog, or Dr Watson, if they were still together. Lestrade thought it was a long shot. Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan thought it was a deadly gamble.
Sherlock’s mobile buzzed. He was about to step away for some privacy, but saw the display, stopped short and looked at Lestrade.
‘It’s Sarah… I don’t know what to tell her…’
‘Gimme,’ the DI requested, reaching for the phone. Sherlock handed it to him and returned a grateful look as Lestrade nodded in a reassuring way.
‘You are lucky to have friends, Mr Holmes. I pray that Dr Watson is unharmed,’ Lady Sylvia confided. ‘All I have is my husband’s money, and he probably stole it, so the only joy it brings me is to give it away. If it weren’t for my sweet princess, Gusinya, I would be all alone in the world. Please find her. She is my only true friend and she worth more to me than anything.’
.oOOo.
‘BBC News has a new development to report on concerning The Star of the East diamond. It was only days ago when Lady Sylvia Morcar announced her intention to donate the famous, and perhaps infamous, gem to the British Museum. Since then, we have learned that the The Star of the East diamond had been stolen, and recovered, over the course of the holiday. Lady Sylvia held a brief press conference at New Scotland Yard just minutes ago.’
‘Although it would be normal to keep the incident private, I think it is important to let the people know what a professional job the Metropolitan Police did in retrieving The Star in record time. They have my highest respect and their efforts deserve to be recognised.’
‘When asked if she would fill us in on what had happened, DI Lestrade, of the Major Crimes unit declined on her behalf: ‘I’m afraid, the details of this case must remain private until the perpetrators are brought before the magistrates.’
‘Lady Sylvia, shown here with the recovered gem, DI Lestrade, and others from his team, still plans to donate The Star of the East to the British Museum as scheduled. The stone, valued in excess of £5 000 000, will be used to raise funding for the national educational initiative, Educate Britain’s Children.’
‘Walter, does this sound like the end of the story?’
‘Well, Diane. The Police are obviously reluctant to reveal all their information. Perhaps more details will be forthcoming in the next few days.’
‘Thank you, Walter. That was Walter Simms, reporting from New Scotland Yard.’
.oOOo.
It was alarming, really, to wake up without blindfold or gag. If he thought about it, John would have realised this was a very bad thing; if he could identify his captors, they would have to kill him. Fortunately, John’s brain was not working along those lines... it was hoping Father Christmas would bring him a blanket, or maybe some Meccano this year.
John could see daylight around the cracks in the door but the beating left him weaker than ever. His arms were numb and again were secured behind his back. He wondered why his legs were no longer secured until he tried to move. Oh yeah... broken...
.oOOo.
Many police officers detested legwork, but not Sally Donovan. It always gave her a feeling of purpose; of at least being able to do something. For her, waiting around for situations to develop was the most aggravating thing since the invention of consulting detectives.
Hundreds of calls regarding Dr Watson’s disappearance flooded the Metropolitan Police hotline. Most of them were useless false leads, and some were even cruel pranks. By late afternoon, only two credible eyewitness accounts had been taken, and Sergeant Donovan was dispatched to interview them.
The first was from the two young women who happened to be crossing the churchyard at around 1500. They distinctly remembered the Borzoi, but were less certain about the man. All they recalled of John was that he had been polite and let them pat his dog. One thought that his coat was a bit ugly, but the other was so engrossed with the dog that she could not confirm that detail.
The second was from a young boy who had been walking along the pavement when he saw Father Christmas toss Dr Watson into the back of the van. When Father Christmas saw the child staring, he threatened by saying: ‘He’s on the naughty list. So you better watch out!’ The boy had been distraught and had told his parents what had happened. They had soothed his fears by telling him that the real Father Christmas was still at the North Pole, making toys, and also by reminding him that they were of the Muslim faith and ersatz Father Christmases held no power over them. One detail that was of any use was that the rear bumper was not white, but black or dark grey. It must have been recent replacement and had not yet been painted to match the rest of the van.
.oOOo.
It was colder still when John woke asking ‘Harry, is it Christmas yet?’
He felt someone shift closer. Hairy... not Harry. He buried his face in Gus’s curly mane.
‘Gus... you smell like wet dog...’
Gus lifted an eyebrow but declined to tell John what he smelled like.
As the temperature once again dropped below freezing, John fought off the temptation to sleep. He spoke to Gus, who listened sympathetically to his disconnected ramblings of Sarah, Christmas, toys, warmth and food. John was glad that his shivering had stopped. Perhaps he had warmed up after all...
.oOOo.
Next Chapter: December 27th
Please sign the guestbook
capt_facepalm
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Sarah Sawyer, others
Summary: Christmas time brings a new case for the world's only consulting detective.
Warnings: (cave canem)
Word Count: 10 000+ (This chapter 1240)
Author's Notes: For Challenge 002 at
violinandwatch
Previous Chapters
December 23rd
December 24th
December 25th (part one)
December 25th (part two)
.oOOo.
December 26th
Lady Sylvia Morcar would not take ‘Don’t call us; we’ll call you’ for an answer. So no one should have been surprised when she arrived at Scotland Yard early in the morning, impeccably dressed and ready for battle. Junior officers and other staff parted before her like the Red Sea as she made her way to DI Lestrade’s office. There she filed the paperwork to retrieve her stolen property and demanded to learn the details of the case. She had received no information since that day when Sherlock Holmes had waltzed away with her beloved pet Borzoi, claiming the case of the missing gem was already solved. It was all very well that the gem was recovered, but she wanted her dog back too.
Her anger changed to concern when Sherlock showed her the CCTV footage of her dog and Dr Watson being abducted. Lestrade confirmed that this footage was connected to the disappearance of the John Watson featured in the news broadcasts.
‘I’m so terribly sorry that your friend is all caught up in this, Mr Holmes. The Star of the East may be as cursed as they say.’
It was clear that everyone on the Lestrade’s team were concerned about John Watson’s fate. Tactics were proposed, considered, and refined. Sherlock insisted that the abductors were thieves and not likely to turn to murder. Lady Sylvia offered to post a substantial reward for information leading to John’s safe return. Reluctantly, DI Lestrade had to turn down the offer. It was too much like paying ransom, and it would set a bad precedent.
They settled on disclosing the gem’s theft and recovery in a press conference. If Sherlock was right, the kidnappers were not professionals. Once they heard of the gem’s recovery, they would have no reason to continue to hold the dog, or Dr Watson, if they were still together. Lestrade thought it was a long shot. Detective Sergeant Sally Donovan thought it was a deadly gamble.
Sherlock’s mobile buzzed. He was about to step away for some privacy, but saw the display, stopped short and looked at Lestrade.
‘It’s Sarah… I don’t know what to tell her…’
‘Gimme,’ the DI requested, reaching for the phone. Sherlock handed it to him and returned a grateful look as Lestrade nodded in a reassuring way.
‘You are lucky to have friends, Mr Holmes. I pray that Dr Watson is unharmed,’ Lady Sylvia confided. ‘All I have is my husband’s money, and he probably stole it, so the only joy it brings me is to give it away. If it weren’t for my sweet princess, Gusinya, I would be all alone in the world. Please find her. She is my only true friend and she worth more to me than anything.’
.oOOo.
‘BBC News has a new development to report on concerning The Star of the East diamond. It was only days ago when Lady Sylvia Morcar announced her intention to donate the famous, and perhaps infamous, gem to the British Museum. Since then, we have learned that the The Star of the East diamond had been stolen, and recovered, over the course of the holiday. Lady Sylvia held a brief press conference at New Scotland Yard just minutes ago.’
‘Although it would be normal to keep the incident private, I think it is important to let the people know what a professional job the Metropolitan Police did in retrieving The Star in record time. They have my highest respect and their efforts deserve to be recognised.’
‘When asked if she would fill us in on what had happened, DI Lestrade, of the Major Crimes unit declined on her behalf: ‘I’m afraid, the details of this case must remain private until the perpetrators are brought before the magistrates.’
‘Lady Sylvia, shown here with the recovered gem, DI Lestrade, and others from his team, still plans to donate The Star of the East to the British Museum as scheduled. The stone, valued in excess of £5 000 000, will be used to raise funding for the national educational initiative, Educate Britain’s Children.’
‘Walter, does this sound like the end of the story?’
‘Well, Diane. The Police are obviously reluctant to reveal all their information. Perhaps more details will be forthcoming in the next few days.’
‘Thank you, Walter. That was Walter Simms, reporting from New Scotland Yard.’
.oOOo.
It was alarming, really, to wake up without blindfold or gag. If he thought about it, John would have realised this was a very bad thing; if he could identify his captors, they would have to kill him. Fortunately, John’s brain was not working along those lines... it was hoping Father Christmas would bring him a blanket, or maybe some Meccano this year.
John could see daylight around the cracks in the door but the beating left him weaker than ever. His arms were numb and again were secured behind his back. He wondered why his legs were no longer secured until he tried to move. Oh yeah... broken...
.oOOo.
Many police officers detested legwork, but not Sally Donovan. It always gave her a feeling of purpose; of at least being able to do something. For her, waiting around for situations to develop was the most aggravating thing since the invention of consulting detectives.
Hundreds of calls regarding Dr Watson’s disappearance flooded the Metropolitan Police hotline. Most of them were useless false leads, and some were even cruel pranks. By late afternoon, only two credible eyewitness accounts had been taken, and Sergeant Donovan was dispatched to interview them.
The first was from the two young women who happened to be crossing the churchyard at around 1500. They distinctly remembered the Borzoi, but were less certain about the man. All they recalled of John was that he had been polite and let them pat his dog. One thought that his coat was a bit ugly, but the other was so engrossed with the dog that she could not confirm that detail.
The second was from a young boy who had been walking along the pavement when he saw Father Christmas toss Dr Watson into the back of the van. When Father Christmas saw the child staring, he threatened by saying: ‘He’s on the naughty list. So you better watch out!’ The boy had been distraught and had told his parents what had happened. They had soothed his fears by telling him that the real Father Christmas was still at the North Pole, making toys, and also by reminding him that they were of the Muslim faith and ersatz Father Christmases held no power over them. One detail that was of any use was that the rear bumper was not white, but black or dark grey. It must have been recent replacement and had not yet been painted to match the rest of the van.
.oOOo.
It was colder still when John woke asking ‘Harry, is it Christmas yet?’
He felt someone shift closer. Hairy... not Harry. He buried his face in Gus’s curly mane.
‘Gus... you smell like wet dog...’
Gus lifted an eyebrow but declined to tell John what he smelled like.
As the temperature once again dropped below freezing, John fought off the temptation to sleep. He spoke to Gus, who listened sympathetically to his disconnected ramblings of Sarah, Christmas, toys, warmth and food. John was glad that his shivering had stopped. Perhaps he had warmed up after all...
.oOOo.
Next Chapter: December 27th
Please sign the guestbook