Thursday 9 December 2010

Sherlock's Last Bullet

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[  2nd April   ] 
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I've blanked out a few names again for legal matters. I'm typing this from the hospital, don't worry I'm not dying, I've just been shot again. This case all began with Sherlock and I visiting a construction site. Sherlock had received a call from //////// telling him of a recent murder. We quickly arrived to find that a man had been hung by a crane. Sherlock was quickly able to work out everything about the man from just looking at him. Brilliant as always. After he examined the man he informed //////// that he needed to talk to several people close to the man.

It was only a few minutes of being home that I, not having slept in three days, fell asleep. I don't exactly remember what happened before hand but Sherlock told me he was just playing his violin. He also told me not to drink the milk. Why is it always the milk? Any way while I was asleep Sherlock left to interview Mr///////// 's family. I later woke up to find the apartment empty and before I could really do anything I was kidnapped. The details aren't extremely clear from there on but Sherlock has been telling me about it so I can attempt to go on.

So I woke up in a strange warehouse it was dark and /////// was there. Most likely the last person on the face of the earth I wanted to see, let alone be kidnapped by. After a few minutes went by he became bored of my company and called Sherlock. Who quickly came to the warehouse where he was faced with a game. A dangerous game. But Sherlock being such a brilliant idiot couldn't help but to play, just to prove he was clever. I was standing at the back of the warehouse with a snipper aimed at me. /////// had said that if I moved it would be the last thing I'd ever do. I didn't feel like arguing. 

Sherlock told me that //////// had given him a choice. He had said that he was given a gun with one bullet and he could see two silhouettes one was mine the other belonged to //////. He said that he had ten seconds to decide who to shoot then shoot, or I would be shot by //////'s snipper. So after ten seconds he had said 'felt like hours' he pulled the trigger. Only to find out that he had been aiming not at /////// but at me. 

I can't remember what went on after that because I, of course, was concentrating on the whole 'Please God let me live' thing! The next thing I remember was waking up here in the hospital. Sherlock was sitting beside me, he said I'd been asleep for thirty five hours. I tried to get up but bullet wounds don't really agree with movement. So after I had woken up Sherlock explained to me who had killed Mr ////// the man from the construction site. 

The butler had done it. Apparently Mr///// had owed the butlers friend some money and Mr///// being extremely rich could pay him. But he had simply chosen not to. So after asking him several times they both decided to kill him. It seems like the butler had watched too many movies. But still the case was solved ///// had escaped and I had been shot again. Nothing to worry about. I chose all this the second I met Sherlock Holmes

The Bus Hit-Man

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[  31st March    ]
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Sherlock's actually a sleep! Can you believe that? I can't help to think that he's only pretending but still. I'm not going to wake him so I'll type up our most recent case in poem form. Don't ask.

From the tops of the shelfs to under the carpet
There are strange thing everywhere in our odd appartment

The bullets in the wall would give the landlady a heart attack
also the human parts scattered amongst the bric-a-brack

Something in the milk carton nobody should drink
A Holmes telling me that I'm stupid and should think

'BORED' he yelled again for the nineteenth time today
His voice came from the sofa where he almost always lay

'Ring, Ring' the familiar door bell rang.
'Sherlock it's for you' the house keeper. NO. Land lady sang

Damn it I'm not thinking my brain's turning to mush
I watched as Sherlock sprung to life and left in a rush

An accident it had been three streets down from us
We arrived to see the poor man had been run over by a bus


'This was no accident' Sherlock said as he arrived
We stared at the poor man, quite the opposite of alive

I could easily see the cogs turning inside his head
as he examined the body and the DI thought about what he had said


'It's obviously murder' the detective explained
'but it's a boring case' he started to complain

I quickly convinced him to take this case
probably to stop him from ruining our place

so after examining the body we quickly left the scene
passing Anderson and Sally who where always being mean

We interviewed the family of the poor man who had died
each and every one of them seemed to have something to hide

'I'm sorry about your bother, father, and son
but I'm here to solve his murder' he told everyone

'There's no time to be sad' I watched the tall figure loom 
'for the murderer of your friend it in this very room'

So after watching their reactions Sherlock singled out one
a young lady only twenty nervously nibbling on a French bun

The detective quickly explained who had done it and why
as he did so the young lady started to quietly cry

I couldn't help to feel sorry for the girl in front of me
as she silently sobbed and cried desperately

'The bus driver was an assassin she hired, you see
to end the aranged marrige she didn't want to be'

The young lady kept crying as the police led her out the  door
'Is there something I've forgotten? What information do you need more?'

'Nothing' he responded a smile spread on his face
'I just didn't expect you to solve this at such a pace'

The case was closed, Sherlock said it wouldn't be fun
but it doesn't matter now because the case is done

So we went back to the appartment and on the couch Sherlock lay
Complaining of boredom untril Lestrade's call the next day