A Case of Identity - Chapter three (3/23)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 part one Chapter 15 part two Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23
"You can stop here," Sherlock announced, the cabbie pulling over immediately. Sherlock got out of the taxi, leaving it to John to pay the fare. As usual.
They found themselves in front of an impressive Victorian building in Central London. Sherlock had texted John in the afternoon while he was busy with the hundredth patient this week who had gotten the flu. He already had been in a very bad mood when he received the text. When he arrived at the surgery he had tried to get inside as quickly as possible to avoid Sarah. Unfortunately, Sarah seemed to have been waiting for him to discuss some new working procedures. Of course she did not fail to notice the ring the first thing. Nor did she fail to guess who had given it to John.
When John followed Sherlock, he seemed not to be his usual confident self. Somehow he seemed to be nervous. "Have you taken any nicotine patches?" John asked just for to be sure. Sherlock without nicotine patches wasn't a good thing.
"Three."
"A three patch problem? Dear me.” That meant something. But why was he so nervous then? Nicotine always smoothed his anxiety and helped him think.
The answer to the question emerged a few seconds later from the doorway of the building he had been admiring a few minutes ago.
"Ah, Sherlock. I'm glad you were able to come." They were greeted by the tall, dark haired, good looking young man in his thirties. Once he must have been handsome but John couldn't help but think that before him stood a man who had been through some misfortune in the past. The lines in the young man's face had grown hard, and made him look older than he actually was.
"My fiancé and colleague, Dr. Watson,” Sherlock presented John. John forced himself to smile.
"Victor Trevor. I am an old friend of Sherlock's from university,” Victor introduced himself, shaking John's hand enthusiastically. John's curiosity was growing by the minute. He had been under the impression that Sherlock never had friends before and the fact that Sherlock kept smiling in a somehow forced and nervous way told John that there was more to the story than met the eye.
"Nice to meet you, Dr. Watson. I've been reading your blog. Very impressive."
"Thank you. Please call me John."
"Call me Victor."
"Good. We're all properly introduced. How wonderful," Sherlock added sarcastically and rolled his eyes. "Maybe we should go inside, now."
"Yes, of course. Please forgive me,” Victor apologized and led the way inside. "So this was the thing you needed to do yesterday? Because you said you didn't have much time. I saw that you weren't wearing a ring yesterday,” Victor explained smiling.
"I...uhm ...yes,” Sherlock managed weakly. John watched him close. Normally, Sherlock never said ‘uhm’. Are you alright? he asked silently. Sherlock nodded quickly and unnoticed by Victor.
"Congratulations, then. I'm glad you've found someone."
"Thank you."
"Please, come in here. We can talk here without being disturbed." He led them into a cozy living room. John and Sherlock took seats next to each other in front of the fireplace.
"Would you like some coffee?"
"Yes, thank you,” John answered in a friendly voice.
"Sherlock?"
"Yes, coffee, please. Thank you,” Sherlock agreed since he promised John not to be too ascetic during the case which earned him an approving glance from John. He smiled. This time genuinely, seemingly able to relax a bit.
When Victor returned with the coffee, he took a seat opposite them.
"Please do repeat what you told me yesterday so John gets the information first hand. I would also like to hear your story again. Do not forget any details. Even the tiniest things might be important."
"OK, of course. My boyfriend, David Jones, is a psychologist. He is a specialist in relationship therapy and owns a clinic near Aldershot. He also has a practice here in London. Usually couples start the therapy here in London and travel to Aldershot for workshops and things like that. Last month he was consulted by a Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Of course, he did not speak to me of it, but I know about it now…considering the circumstances. "
"What circumstances?"
"John, don't interrupt Victor."
"Sorry."
"After a few meetings the Smiths agreed to go to Aldershot to attend some workshops. They arrived there last Friday. Monday morning they were found murdered in their room. Executed from a short distance actually. Shot with a silencer probably. They've found a letter in David's office, apparently in the handwriting of Mr. Smith. I don't know what it says exactly, but the police said something about missing money. David was arrested on Monday. They suspect blackmail. I don't know about any money but I know for sure he is not capable of murder. I am desperate. I beg you to help him. Like I said yesterday, money is no problem. I will pay you any price."
"I treat all of my clients the same. I have a fixed fee, plus any expenses related to the investigation. John will take care of the financial issues. Who is in charge at the Aldershot Police?"
"DI Davies."
"Davies is an idiot. It's good you came to me immediately,” Sherlock explained cheerfully, while taking out his phone.
Need immediate information on the Aldershot clinic murder. DI Davies in charge. Come in this afternoon. SH
"The door to the room was shut?"
"No, it was open. It seems that they knew their murderer. They let him in."
"And David never mentioned one of the Smiths to you before?"
"No. David never talks about his clients. He never mentioned them at all."
"What about David's mood? Had he been different lately? Anxious? Scared? Worried?"
"No, not at all. He was the same as always. That's why I don't understand. He didn't see this coming."
"He did not receive any phone calls or letters he kept to himself?"
"No. Nothing unusual happened."
"And things at the clinic were alright? He never mentioned any problems there?"
"Not really. He argued repeatedly with Dr. Martin. She is a new counselor at the clinic. But there was nothing specific. They just didn't get on well with each other."
"Good. I think that's all for the moment. I'll be in touch when I have news. Come, John." Sherlock strode out of the room towards the entrance.
"It was nice to meet you, John."
"You, too,” John replied before following Sherlock outside.
"Taxi!" Sherlock summoned a taxi effortlessly, as usual.
Inside the cab, John watched Sherlock, trying to read his friends' face.
"We're going to see a relationship therapist then,” Sherlock informed John cheerfully.
"You just proposed to me and our relationship already is in grave danger?", John teased him.
"We will have to invent some little problem. I am supposed to be the troublemaker. So you may choose a random problem."
"While I am perfectly capable of body parts in the fridge, I tend to believe those might not be good subjects to discuss. Meaning the subjects we should have an argument about are no longer issues for me." Being kidnapped by your fiancé's brother wasn't a good one either, John believed.
"We'll find one. Take your time to think it through...I'm glad Victor showed up. This promises to be a nice little problem. The game is on." John could see Sherlock was on fire again.
"Victor seems to be a nice bloke,” he started, changing the subject.
"You have questions." It was a statement, not a question. Of course John would have questions.
"It's just that I wasn't aware you had friends before..." Me, he added in his thoughts. "You always implied….."
"He was the only friend I made during the two years I was at university. I was never a very sociable fellow. I actually met him by accident. His dog bit my ankle. I was forced to stay indoors for ten days. He came around, inquiring after me. I was always rather fond of moping in my rooms and working out my own little methods of thought, so that I never mixed much with the men of my year. I had few athletic tastes, and then my line of study was quite distinct from that of the other fellows, so that we had no points of contact at all. Victor was the only man I knew." Sherlock stopped for a moment, searching for words.
"He was a hearty, full-blooded fellow, full of spirits and energy, the very opposite to me in most respects, but we had some subjects in common, and it was a bond of union when I found that he was as friendless as I. It was a prosaic way of forming a friendship, but it was effective. Our friendship lasted a little longer than 6 months. So I don't know if you really can call it a friendship at all,” Sherlock added quickly.
Although Sherlock had managed to recount the nature of his relationship with Victor in a purely scientific way, cold and accurate, John's stomach twinged a bit. The nervousness Sherlock betrayed earlier clearly told a different story. Obviously Victor Trevor had been a good friend. In moments like this John realized that of course there had been a Sherlock Holmes before meeting John Watson. Somehow John had always assumed there had never been someone else with him, at least no one of any importance. Which was childish and unfair, John knew very well. Because the existence of Victor Trevor didn't make the existence of John Watson less important.
"What happened? I mean it sounds as if you got along well,” John inquired, sounding as innocent as possible.
"Victor invited me to his father's estate in Donnithorpe, Norfolk, to spend one month of the holidays with him there. You can imagine I wasn't too eager to spend the holidays at home with Mycroft, so I accompanied him. He was his father's only child; his mother and sister had died in a car accident when Victor was seven. His father was a judge, a small but massive man, very powerful in both body and mind. One evening Victor told his father about my methods, which were a mere hobby in those days. I made some deductions, which frightened the good judge nearly to death. Apparently he had been afraid of being attacked after a case he heard that concerned a smuggling ring. Well, to make a long story short, it was Victor's father who mentioned first that I might make a living with my abilities by becoming a detective. 'I don't know how you manage this, Sherlock, but it seems to me that all the detectives of fact and of fancy would be children in your hands. That's your line of life, and you may take the word of a man who has seen something of the world,' he told me."
John always had wondered what had brought Sherlock onto the path of the angels, so to speak, what prevented him from becoming the greatest criminal mastermind of all times.
"Judge Trevor remained friendly towards me, but I couldn't help but feel that he didn't trust me afterwards. I decided it might be better to shorten my stay and return to London. The day before my departure a man arrived. Although he seemed to be an old acquaintance of Victor's father, the judge was very nervous and frightened of him. The man went into Judge Trevor's service and I left Donnithorpe for London. I wasn't sorry to leave, to be honest. The atmosphere had become oppressive. At the end of the holidays I received a message from Victor, begging me to return to him. His father had suffered a stroke and was a dying man. When I arrived Victor had changed dramatically. He was thin and careworn by the ordeal. He believed the man from the past to be at fault but I couldn't imagine what power he might have held over the poor judge. Victor asked me to advise him in this situation. Apparently that man had behaved in an unforgivable manner towards the staff, and it had caused Victor's father a great deal of inconvenience to get the staff to stay. Short afterwards these incidents, the man had announced his departure, leaving the judge in a nervous state of mind. At the end of that week a letter arrived which obviously had caused the Victor's father to become ill. When I arrived, Victor's father had already died. Amongst his papers we found a letter and a declaration of his dealings with the man in question. Apparently Judge Trevor had made some financial missteps in the past which resulted in this unfortunate blackmailing affair. It broke Victor's heart. So he left London and went off to America."
"And so your friendship ended."
"Yes. He stayed in touch though. The obligatory cards at Christmas. He seems to have gotten things right again."
"So that was the first case in which you were involved."
"Consciously, yes. When I was involved in the Carl Powers case I could not possibly have dreamt of where that path might lead me. I think it is safe to say that I owe the Trevors in some way."
"Why have you never mentioned him before?"
"Victor Trevor lies in the past."
"Will you see him again when it is all over?"
"Jealous?"
"Well, let me see. You have asked me to be your fiancé….so I think I should be safe,” John replied jokingly.
"Good deduction,” Sherlock answered smiling.
Despite Sherlock's unaffectionate manner, John suspected some further involvement between the two gentlemen in question but decided against pushing the subject any further. Considering Victor Trevor's looks, John had no idea why people believed him to be Sherlock's chosen one. He did not resemble someone like Victor in the slightest. He even recalled that Moriarty and Irene Adler, too, were tall, dark haired and good looking. Although Sherlock was not in love with them but merely intrigued, John felt a bit out of place.
"What you fancy in the first place, might not be what is good for you,” Sherlock stated, responding again more to John's thoughts than to his words.
Previous chapter Next chapter