IC Inbox (v1.0)

[jumpthegun]

You've reached Dr. John Watson. Please leave a message.

Comments

[jumpthegun]

I don't think she'd be the attacker, then. A drunk trying to drag a body like that? Especially one that big? She'd make a racket.

[howdull]

Good, so you have eliminated another.

[He puts Mrs. White's card down face up on the table.]

You should have more than sufficient information to piece together the events of the evening now.

[jumpthegun]

[Should he? John doesn't feel like he does. It was either Scarlett or Peacock, so that narrowed the range. No criminal history for Peacock... but Scarlett's... hmm. That disorderly house business. How would that play in? Maybe... well, she just left a body for anyone to find. Maybe?

The weapon has been narrowed to the spanner or the candlestick, and John's leaning heavily toward candlestick. The room, though...]

Wait. How the hell do I have enough information to get the room? All I know is that they probably didn't club him in the ballroom if there were people around. Are we counting just outside for that room?

[howdull]

[It's all so clear to Sherlock, even putting himself in an outside perspective where he isn't the one setting the clues. The look he gives John is the same perplexed one he sometimes gives to Lestrade, like someone trying to work out the thought processes of a species completely alien to his own.]

From what you know of the victim, and the clues you have already uncovered, you should be able to piece together an accurate timeline of events. The location comes along with this.

[jumpthegun]

[John frowns and looks down at the board to get the layout of the rooms.]

I know he has wine on his lips and cuffs and he was probably clubbed with a spanner or a candlestick. Um... is there any construction going on in the house anywhere? Or signs that something's been recently fixed where there might be a toolbox?

[Maybe he can narrow it that way.]

[howdull]

Urgh.

[It's a frustrated noise and Sherlock bats the board to one side and gets up, utterly at the end of his patience.]

This is ridiculous, John, if I give you any more information then I may as well be spoon feeding you the answer. Put yourself in my shoes, in the victim's shoes, and walk through the evening.

[jumpthegun]

[John bristles. This is stupid. He should just stop playing and try to go back to sleep. Except worse things are waiting for him in his dreams than a petulant Sherlock Holmes. He can at least lie down next to Mary and stare at the dark ceiling. The doctor is feeling significantly less vulnerable now than when he'd made his plea for Sherlock not to leave him.

But it's he doesn't like losing, even if Sherlock is far worse about it. John crosses his arms and glares down at the upset board.]

It was Mrs. Peacock in the ballroom with the candlestick. White and Scarlett were probably making a scene, a loud one, between being drunk and disorderly. Peacock used that distraction to club Mr. Holmes over the head with the candlestick and drag him out as fast as she could after he was being an insulting berk to her. Ms. Scarlett's probably already used to the barbs if she's been cited, so she'd be able to deal with Mr. Holmes making jabs. That leaves Peacock, who doesn't have a criminal record, but might have some other secret. Something Mr. Holmes learned when she accidentally spilled her wine on him.

[howdull]

[For just a few moments, it's all Sherlock can do to stare. Is this how John looks when Sherlock issues a deduction, all open mouthed and foolish? But then his surprise melts into a sudden approving grin.]

Exactly right!

[See, he knew that John must have picked something up watching him all those years.]

I couldn't have put it better myself. I mean, I could have put it the same way after a fraction of the time, but-- Well done, John. Well deduced.

[jumpthegun]

[John blinks a few times, his irritation fading away for the praise, and his own expression lightening.]

What, really?

[Sherlock's approval really shouldn't have any sway on his mood at this point in John's life, but he can't help it. Something like this is rare and precious.]

That was... that was almost fun. Hah! [He quiets down quickly.] You're a bloody awful GM, though. Never play DnD.

[howdull]

What are you talking about?

[Seriously... GM? DnD? What did these acronyms have to do with Cluedo?]

[jumpthegun]

[Sherlock's confusion just makes John's smile soften as he shakes his head.]

I'm gonna try to lie down again. Get some sleep yourself, yeah?

[howdull]

[He can feel the bottle of drugs he successfully palmed earlier in his pocket, and the guilt over taking them is no longer there now that John is doing better, so he simply nods.]

I might, I have some thinking to do, but I shall see you in the morning either way.

[jumpthegun]

Sure. [John starts to get up, then pauses.] Thanks, Sherlock. Night.

[He moves off quietly to lie down again, slipping in next to Mary. Sherlock will find, perhaps to his chagrin, that he's managed to snatch the bottle of Ritalin.]