A/N: This story was inspired by a conversation between Spockologist and myself. So she is co- creator. Enjoy! :D
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
I rushed out of my room, down the short flight of stairs, and into the sitting room. The sight made me draw up short.
The room was... normal, which was strange. There were no fresh bullet holes, no new chemical stains on the carpet, or chemical stenches. The room was, also, empty. Holmes was not here. I entered Holmes' bedroom, which was empty as well. Thoroughly confused, I returned to the sitting room. I was glancing around the room, when something white on our dining table caught my eye.
I walked to it and picked it up. It was a note from Holmes and read:
Return to your room and look out the window.
I exited the sitting room and climbed the stairs. I looked out my bedroom window and looked at the lives passing beneath my sill. I kept looking, having no idea what I was looking for, until I saw a painted arrow that pointed down. I looked where it was pointed and found Holmes leaning against the lamp- post, his back was to me.
I quickly ran out of my room, down the seventeen stairs and out the front door, grabbing my hat and coat as I ran past the coat rack beside the front door. I ran across the street and stopped beside Holmes. "What's wrong?" My voice filled with worry.
Holmes calmly snapped his watch closed and looked at me. "It took you nearly fifteen minutes to find me."
I blinked. "What?"
"I said, 'It took you nearly fifteen minutes to find me."
"I know what you said, Holmes, I'm just asking what you meant."
Holmes shrugged. "You just disproved a key witness's statement." he continued as if he were talking to himself. "It didn't take her five minutes to find her friend in the alley. It took her fifteen minutes plus some. The question is now What was she hiding?"
I admit sometimes in the past when Holmes muttered to himself, I didn't understand him. Now I was completly confused. "Holmes, what is she hiding?"
Holmes looked at me blankly for a second as if he had forgotten my presence. "No, she isn't hiding anything. Her friend is the one hiding something."
"What friend? She said she didn't have any friends," I was starting to grow exasperated.
Holmes sighed and motioned for me to follow him. "She did have a friend, Watson."
"She killed her friend, or was there just before he died. He may have told her something important."
I stared after Holmes, confused, as he raced into the flat. After a few seconds, I followed him. I only got as far as the foyer, when Holmes came rushing past me. "Come, Watson! We must get to Scotland Yard!"
"How did you know it was Victor and not Angela?" Lestrade asked as his men hauled Angela's brother out of the room.
Holmes smirked. "The clues were all there, but the deciding one came when I ran down the stairs."
I made the connection to his earlier experiment. Lestrade just looked back and forth between us. I looked at Holmes and he nodded, silently giving me permission to explain.
"Earlier, Holmes had conducted an experiment. He had yelled my name from the alley next to our flat, then ran across the street, leaving me to find him. I had taken fifteen minutes, with help, to find him."
"And Watson is a faster runner than Miss Angela Dawson. If you remember, Inspector, she said in her report that it had taken her about five minutes to find and reach Mr. James Nichols in the allley way across the street. Five minutes without help is remarkable. If she had found him in five minutes, that would suggest she had a hand in his death, which is not the case, or she had already been looking for him. She must have arrived just as he was about to breath his last. He saw her, recognized her, and named his killer. She lied to the police, then confronted her brother," Holmes continued the explanation.
Lestrade looked at him. "You got all that just because you found out Dr. Watson had taken fifteen minutes to run from point A to point B?" He turned and made his way out the door. Holmes and I followed.
"Holmes, there is something that doesn't add up. Earlier, you said first that Angela was hiding something, then you said James had been hiding something, then you said, Angela just now. Who was hiding what?" I asked.
Holmes looked at me and said, "It should be obvious, Watson. They were both hiding the killer's identity."
I sighed and muttered loud enough for Holmes and Lestrade to hear. "Should call yourself the Unofficial Consulting Contradicting Detective."
Holmes glared at me. Lestrade laughed.
A/N: Yeeeeah, this is so not what I had in mind when I started writting it. I take all the blame! Spockologist had nothing to do with the final product, or any parts of the story! So, if you are confused, or have any questions, please contact me. :D I hope you enjoyed. :)