OK, now we're back to my version of the story. You may be wondering about what I was doing during this whole ordeal. Let me tell you, I was not just sitting on my backside. Once Shirley had left the flat to confront the cabbie, I tried calling Jenny Wilson's phone again.
I looked out the window and saw Shirley get into a cab, confusing me entirely. "She just got in a cab. Shirley just got in a cab," I told Lestrade.
"I told you, she does that," Sally said. She turned to the other officers in the apartment, "We're wasting our time!"
After several rings and there was still no answer. "I'm calling the phone," I said, "It's ringing out."
"If it's ringing, it's not here," Lestrade said.
"I'll try the search again," I offered, going back to Shirley's computer and restarting the GPS search.
"Does it matter? Does any of it?" Sally asked, "She's just a lunatic and she'll always let you down. You're wasting your time, all of our time."
Lestrade stared at her for a moment and then sighed. "OK everybody," she finally said, "We're done here."
I watched, feeling slightly crestfallen, as the police began to pack up and file out of the flat. Lestrade was the last one to go. She pulled on her overcoat and looked at me. "Why did she do that? Why did she have to go?"
I shrugged. "You know her better than I do," I replied.
"I've known her for five years, and no I don't," Lestrade said.
"So why do you put up with her?" I asked.
"Because I'm desperate," Lestrade said, heading for the door, "Because Shirley Holmes is a great woman, and I think that if we're very, very lucky one day, she might even be a good one."
With that, she left the room, leaving me alone. It was very quiet, except for the even humming of the GPS search on Shirley's laptop since it it was still searching. It was taking a very long time this time. I tried tiding up the room after the mess the drugs squad had made. After a few minutes, I picked up my cane which I had left leaning against the desk earlier.
It was amazing that Shirley had managed to cure me of my limp just like that. I gave a small smile to myself and went to go store it away, since I wouldn't be needing it anymore. However, just as I had one foot on the stairs, I heard the GPS beeping. It had finished.
I turned back and looked at the screen. It no longer said that the phone was in 221B Baker Street, it gave an entirely new location at some place not too far away. I quickly picked up the laptop and ran down the stairs, grabbing my coat and purse along the way.
I didn't have much trouble catching a cab once outside. I opened Shirley's laptop and gave the cabbie instructions as we went. I began to put the pieces together a little. I realized that Shirley must have somehow figured it out and went there herself, that's why she got in the cab and drove off earlier. Oh dear, she must have realized how dangerous that was, confronting a murderer alone, right? Didn't she? Ugh! How could someone as clever as her be so stupid at the same time?
I pulled out my phone and dialed Scotland Yard. However, I had some trouble getting a hold of Lestrade. "No, I need to speak with Detective Inspector Lestrade. It's important. It's an emergency!"
After much arguing and insisting, mostly on my part, I finally managed to get my message to Lestrade, although not directly. The receptionist, or whatever she was, said she would take a message for me since Lestrade wasn't there at the moment. What sort of police station was this anyways?
Anyways, I finally reached the place where the GPS specified. It was at some college, and sure enough, there was another cab parked in front of it. There were two buildings and the cab was parked directly between the two of them, so I could not tell which one Shirley went inside of. After much deliberation, I finally picked one and ran inside.
The building was much larger than I originally anticipated and all of the hallways and doors looked the same. I ran down each hallway, trying to open some doors, calling Shirley's name all the way. Most of the doors were locked and the rooms that were unlocked, were empty.
But I didn't give up. She had to be there somewhere. Every second I spent looking was a second wasted. Who knows what was happening between her and the murderer. I ran down a different hallway, with no luck finding an unlocked door. Finally, I managed to find a doorknob that turned. However, he door was jammed. I reared back and forced my full body weight into it, practically falling into the room.
As I looked up, I could see through the window into the next building. And there was Shirley. I was in the wrong building! She was standing with her back to me, facing a short older man, holding something small in her hand.
I tried screaming her name. "SHIRLEY!"
But to no avail. She couldn't hear me through two windows. I could see the older man was talking to her, I could only assume that he was the murderer. I was watching Shirley closely. I could see her slowly starting to raise something to her mouth. It looked like a pill! The poison!
My mind began to spin. I had to stop her somehow, but I had already tried getting her attention and there was no way I would be able to get over there fast enough. As I tensed up my shoulders, I felt my purse resting there. Of course!
As fast as I could I opened it and pulled out my gun. I had no choice here. It was Shirley or a serial killer. Taking careful aim, I fired. I hit my mark exactly. Right in the shoulder of the murderer.
Almost as soon as I had fired the shot, I had run out of the room so Shirley wouldn't see me. I ran out of the building and as far away from that college as possible before the police showed up. I had called them after all. After waiting a considerable amount of time, I took a cab back to the scene.
The first person I met was Sergeant Sally Donovan. I asked her what it was all about and she explained the whole situation to me about the cabbie, the two pills, everything.
As soon as she was gone, I immediately began looking for Shirley. It didn't take me long to find her. She was sitting on the back of an ambulance with a shock blanket around her shoulders and Lestrade at her side. She looked a bit peeved about something and was gesturing to the blanket about her, so I assumed she was upset about that. I edged closer, hoping to hear what they were saying. Had I been seen? Did they know it was me who had fired the shot? I hovered nearby, but tried to appear not to notice them. I could hear only bits and pieces of their conversation.
"...no sign?" I could hear Shirley ask.
"Cleared off... a guy like that... had enemies," Lestrade said, "Nothing to go on."
I saw Shirley smile smugly and I heard Lestrade mumble something.
"The bullet... dug out of the wall... from a handgun," Shirley said, then I couldn't hear much more, but she carried on for a while longer. As she spoke, she suddenly looked at me, then began to trail off. I glanced away as casually as possible.
I tried to avert my eyes as much as possible, but I could still see Shirley trying to escape the questioning Lestrade. Eventually she pointed to the blanket around her shoulders, looking very concerned and upset. Finally, Lestrade gave a nod and gestured for her to go. Shirley walked in my direction, tossing the shock blanket into a police car as she approached me.
I cleared my throat. "Well, Sergeant Donovan's just been explaining," I said, "Two pills. Horrible business, isn't it? Dreadful."
Shirley didn't say anything for a moment and just had one eyebrow raised slightly wearing a half smile. "Good shot," she said.
I swallowed. Did she know? I decided to go for the coverup approach. "Yes, it must have been, through that window."
"Well you would know," she said.
I closed my mouth. She did know. How had she found out? Well, she was her, I supposed. I shouldn't have been too surprised.
"Did you get the powder burns out of your fingers? I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case," Shirley suggested.
I cleared my throat once more.
"Are you alright?" Shirley asked.
"Of course I'm alright," I said, probably not entirely convincingly.
"Well you did just kill a man."
Right. I did, didn't I? "Yes, I know. That's true," I said, slowly, "But, he wasn't a very nice man."
Shirley smiled. "No. I don't suppose he was, was he?"
"And a frankly awful cabbie," I added, smiling along with her.
Shirley giggled. "Yeah, he was a bad cabbie," she agreed, "You should have seen the route he took us to get here."
We both chuckled heartily. I covered my mouth to keep it from growing into a full blown laugh. "Stop it, we can't giggle, it's a crime scene," I said.
"Well you're the one who shot him, don't blame me," Shirley said.
At that moment, Sally passed us and glanced at us suspiciously. "Keep your voice down," I hissed at Shirley. "Sorry, it's just, uh, nerves, I think!" I said to Sally.
Sally raised an eyebrow, but continued on. I turned back to Shirley. "You were going to take that pill, weren't you?"
"Of course I wasn't," she replied, "Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up."
I snorted. "No you didn't," I said, "That's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever."
Shirley crossed her arms defiantly. "And why would I do that?"
"Because you're an idiot," I replied simply.
A smile crept over Shirley's face. "Dinner?" she asked.
"Starving," I answered.
We both started walking out and away from the crime scene. "At the end of Baker Street, there's an excellent Chinese that stays open until 2:00," Shirley told me, "You can always tell a good Chinese by examining the bottom third of the door handle."
Just as we reached the edge of the crime scene, I spotted a woman climbing out of the back of a black car. It was the same woman who had kidnapped me earlier that night. Shirley's archenemy! What was she doing at the crime scene?
"Shirley, that's her," I said pointing to the woman, "That's the woman I was talking to you about."
Shirley's face darkened as she spotted the poshly-dressed woman with the perfect hair and umbrella and extremely high heels. "I know exactly who that is," she growled, walking towards her. I followed. I was very interested to see how this would play out.
"So, another case cracked," the woman said as we approached, "How very public spirited. Although that's not really your motivation, is it?"
"What are you doing here?" Shirley asked icily.
"As ever, I'm concerned about you," the woman replied lightly.
"Yes, I've been hearing all about your concern," Shirley snapped.
"Always so aggressive," the woman simpered, "Did it never occur to you that we belong on the same side?"
"Oddly enough, no," Shirley said.
"We have more in common than you'd like to believe," the woman said, "This petty feud between us is simply childish, people will suffer. And you know how it always upset Mummy."
Hold on. Hold the phone! I had been very into their little verbal sparring thus far, but the woman's last sentence completely caught me off guard.
"I upset her? Me?" Shirley asked, scowling, "I wasn't the one that upset her, Myra!"
"Wait! Wait! 'Mummy'? Who's 'Mummy'?" I cut in.
"Mother. Our mother," Shirley explained, "This is my sister, Myra." She looked at my kidnapper once more, "Putting on weight again?"
"Losing it actually," she replied, raising her eyebrows proudly.
"She's your sister?" I asked, still trying to process this new information.
"Of course she's my sister," Shirley said.
"So she's not...?" I began, uneasily.
"Not what?" Shirley asked.
"I don't know, a criminal mastermind?"
Shirley looked back at her sister and raised an eyebrow. "Close enough."
"For goodness sake!" Myra declared, "I occupy a minor position in the British government."
"Minor? She is the British government when she's not too busy being the British secret service or the CIA on a freelance basis," Shirley said, "Good evening, Myra. Try not to start a war before I get home, you know what it does to the traffic."
She turned and walked away. I went to follow, but I had to clear a couple things up. Here I had been panicking about Shirley's own sister all night! I had read into what she had told me far too much, when she really meant them literally. "So, when you said you were concerned about her, you actually meant you were concerned?" I asked.
"Yes, of course," she replied obviously.
"And it actually is a childish feud?" I asked.
Myra sighed, looking after Shirley who stood some distance away, waiting for me. "She's always been so resentful," she said, "You can imagine the Christmas dinners."
"Yeah... no. No!" I said, trying not to imagine it. I turned to go, but a voice called me back as I took a step.
It was so-called Anthony, grinning and holding his phone. "Hello," I replied.
"We met earlier this evening, remember?" he said, still grinning as usual.
"Yes, I do. Goodnight," I said. And then I walked away.
"Goodnight, Dr. Watson," Myra called after me.
I caught up with Shirley and we began walking side by side. "So dim sum," I said.
"I can always predict the fortune cookies," Shirley said.
"No you can't."
"Almost can," Shirley replied, "You did get injured though."
"What?" I asked, caught off guard.
"In your accident, you were actually badly wounded," Shirley clarified.
"Oh yeah," I said. I never was actually that badly injured in my leg at all. The worst it was at was in: "In the shoulder," I said.
"Shoulder, I thought so."
Ha! Yeah right. Most people would normally think the neck or the back or something. I had healed ever so nicely in my shoulder anyways. There was no way she would be able to tell. "No you didn't," I said.
"The left one," Shirley stated.
"Lucky guess," I said.
"I never guess," Shirley replied.
"Yes you do," I said.
I noticed after a second that Shirley was smiling to herself, clearly thinking about something, although I could not imagine what it could be. "Why are you so happy?" I wondered.
"Moriarty," she replied.
"What's Moriarty?" I asked.
"I have absolutely no idea."
I did move into 221B Baker Street after this little adventure and we solved several more cases together, some big, some small, but I will always look back on this one with a certain special fondness. After all, this was the official beginning of Shirley Holmes and Dr. Jen Watson.
Well there you have it. Hope you guys enjoyed it!