The Police Chase

I run through the streets of London, trying my hardest to find Baker street. I would've taken a cab, but the traffic is horrendous this morning.

"Excuse me! Can you please point me in the direction of Baker Street?" I ask a man.

He points to his left, "Go down that way and take a right."

I thank him and weave my way through the bustling crowd. Why did I decide to move to one of the busiest cities?

I follow the man's directions and quickly find the apartment complex. Thankfully, I can remember the apartment number.

I knock on the door and after a few seconds it swings open. "Can I help you?"

I ignore the rude tone in Sherlock's voice and nod, "I'm here for, Enola."

He steps back and gestures for me to step inside. Once I'm inside Enola greets me. "Good morning, (Y/n). You look like you've gone through a tornado."

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror next to me and groan. My once perfectly curled hair has already fallen straight, my dress is surprisingly well, but there are obvious dark circles under my eyes.

"Thanks, Enola," I say sarcastically.

Sherlock watches me curiously, "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"I'm Enola's partner, we met last night, but you weren't quite yourself."

"Oh, so you weren't a figment of my imagination then," he says with a sigh.

"Why do you sound so disappointed?"

He ignores my comment and turns to Enola, "Her neck is cut. Are you two involved in something dangerous?"

Enola and I stay quiet. We're women, we're always in danger.

Sherlock pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. "Enola, you are still my ward. If you need my help, my offer remains on the table. Don't be so desperate to prove yourself."

Enola scoffs loudly.

And that is my cue to leave.

"I am not desperate and I do not need your help. (Y/n) and I are perfectly capable of handing this ourselves!"

I make my way out of the apartment and shut the door behind me.

Sherlock looks oddly familiar, but I'm certain that I've never met him before last night. Sure, I've seen him in the paper, but of course he looks different in real life.

"How dare he?! How dare he lecture me!"

Enola grabs my arm and drags me down the stairs with her. She takes a bite out of what looks like a dried up slice of cake. "I am so sick of him thinking he can control me!"

"He undermines our abilities but he can't even solve his own case and he lives in a bed of flummoxing papers and bewildering mold!"

We walk for a while before stopping at a park, the two of us sit on a bench, and she continues to complain.

"Enola?"

I look up to see a pretty guy smiling at Enola. She looks up in shock and I can see her cheeks redden.

"I think I saw a beverage cart back there, I'll be back," I tell Enola, winking as I walk away.

I turn back to see Enola talking to the boy, I have no idea who he is but it's easy to see that she's infatuated with him.

Now, back to trying to remember where I've seen Sherlock.

Perhaps, I saw him on the street one day? Although, if that were the case then I would surely know, because there would be a swarm of women following him.

I barely leave the house so where else could I have seen him?

I pay for my drink and sit on a bench.

He's popular amongst women, if he were around they would bring attention to it. Unless, the women were distracted......

The man at the bookstore.

It was Sherlock!

But he doesn't seem like the type to read feminist poetry. Maybe he was simply looking for clues for his case?

I can't be bothered to think about it anymore, I'm just glad I finally remembered where I've seen him.

"28 Bell Place, Whitechapel!"

I give Enola a confused look, expecting an explanation, but of course she just grabs my hand and leads me away from the park.

~~°°••°°~~

The poem was a cipher. Mr. Poppy wasn't talking about a marriage chapel, he was talking about an apartment.

We find the apartment complex and see that the door was left open. The two of us share a concerned look but continue inside.

"This door's open as well," Enola says.

The apartment is completely trashed. There's broken glass everywhere, and everything's been tossed around. Enola walks over to a table, there's a men's grooming kit on it, as well as a nice suit jacket.

"Mr. Poppy," she says quietly.

I look around and see that there's someone on the bed, "Enola?"

We run to the bed to see Mae laying down with a kitchen knife sticking out of her stomach. Enola and I both push our hands around the knife, trying to keep pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding.

"What happened?! Who did this to you?! Was it Sarah's man?"

Mae coughs up more blood and weakly reaches for her pocket. Enola panics more, "I'll go fetch a doctor for you!"

Mae's breathing stops and the two of us pull our hands back in shock.

"Miss Holmes?"

A man steps towards us slowly, he's wearing a rounded hat and gray suit, and has the most atrocious facial hair I've ever seen.

"Inspector Lestrade," Enola says.

The man doesn't pay any attention to me so I quickly reach into Mae's pocket and pull the paper out. I slide it up my sleeve and turn back towards Enola and the man.

"She's-"

"Dead. How'd that happen?"

Enola shakes her head, "Oh, no, no, no. We're investigating a case of a missing girl."

He shifts his cane around in his hands, his eyes narrowed in suspension. "That girl?"

"No! Her name is, Mae. She worked at the Paragon Theater, the matchstick factory. She was a dancer. She's friends..."

A familiar clanging noise makes its way closer to us, Enola and I look at each other before looking back at the door. Lestrade straightens his back and faces the door as well.

An old man swings the door open, his eyes scan the room before falling on to Enola and I.

"Superintendent Grail."

The old man nods, "Good morning."

"Good morning, sir."

"I was sent to investigate a possible disturbance. Someone heard some screams, and then I discovered these young ladies," says Lestrade.

Grail nods, "Their names?"

"Enola Holmes and...."

Enola answers, "(Y/n) (L/n), she's my partner."

"Enola is his sister," Lestrade adds.

"A Holmes with a partner? Never thought I'd live to see that."

Grail turns to me, "Shouldn't you be writing your book, Miss (L/n)?"

Well, at least someone knows who I am.

Lestrade clears his throat, "They're investigating the disappearance of a...."

"Sarah Chapman."

"Well, how intriguing. So am I. She's wanted for theft and blackmail."

"Blackmail?" Enola asks.

Grail nods his head and moves Mae's arm around, "Still warm. No rigor mortis."

"When were the screams heard, inspector?"

"Ten past the hour, sir," Lestrade answers.

That's around the time we got here..... Something's not right.

"And when did you two arrive?"

"Around the same time," I say.

Grail smirks, "Even more intriguing."

"We were trying to suppress the blood, we were trying to save her."

Grail narrows his eyes at Enola. "Or trying to get information out of her."

"Search them inspector."

Lestrade shakes his head, "I couldn't, sir. I can't pat them down."

"Let's not be coy about this. They're detectives, they know the rules."

He grabs the small bag from Enola's pocket and hands it to Grail.

"Give that back!"

"What is this?" Grail asks.

"My evidence."

Grail looks down at my arm, the paper I had gotten out of Mae's pocket is sticking out of my sleeve. I push it back up my sleeve and glare at the man.

"And what is that?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you hiding it?"

"It's a new poem for my book," I lie.

"Found at a murder scene with a freshly dead corpse, harboring evidence, and then lying about it isn't gonna look good."

"Superintendent Grail, you can't believe-"

Grail cuts Enola off, "What can't I believe? That ladies don't have the hands for killing?"

He sticks his hand out to me, "Now, give it here."

Enola kicks Grail in between the legs, "Come on, (Y/n)!"

She runs to the open window and jumps out of it, I hesitantly follow, and the two of us roll to our feet.

"Let's go!"

I follow her as we run through the busy streets, shoving people out of our way. There's two policemen chasing us, but they're not so quick on their feet.

"It seems as if you're used to running from the police!" I yell out.

Enola laughs, "It's something you should get used to as well!"

We run down an alleyway but it's a dead-end, the policemen block us from leaving, and they wave their batons in a threatening manner.

"Well this should be fun," I say, cracking my knuckles.

We take down the two policemen and Enola jumps on to a low roof, "This way!"

We run along the rooftops, this time there are two different policemen chasing us, and they're much faster than the other two.

"We've got to jump!"

I shake my head, "Maybe prison isn't so bad-"

She jumps, grabbing on to the gutter of a building, I do the same and it's then that we realize how weak the pipe is."Shit, shit, shit!" I yell as the pipe drops down.

We smack against a window, the young boy inside the room drops his spoon in shock.

"Good afternoon! May we ask a favor?"