Chapter 6

The plot thickens with Sherlock's discovery in the shed.

“Well what are we waiting for?” asked Watson.  “Let's go out there and see what's in it!”  

At this, Sherlock and Watson rushed out the door and ran to the shed.  It was made of brick, and was at least 20 years old, judging by the wear and tear on the roof.  Sherlock reached into his pocket and withdrew the key, turning it over in his hand.  

“This could very well be the last piece of this grand puzzle,” he said, “it will almost be a pity to see it end.”  With that, he shoved the key into the lock and quickly turned it, then threw the door open.  Sherlock rushed inside and looked around at the contents of the shed.  There were gas cans, a lawn mower, a couple of ladders, several cans of paint stacked in one of the corners, and several boxes and cases filled with various other maintenance materials.  Sherlock walked over to one of the boxes and looked through the contents, tossing them over his shoulder in disgust.  

“What could be in here that would be worth hiding?”  He spun on his heel, steepled his fingers, and glanced around the walls of the shed, staring intently at the shelves.  “There must be something here….” he muttered under his breath.  

“What exactly are we looking for?” asked Watson.  

“I am not certain, but it would be something out of the ordinary.” replied Sherlock.  Suddenly he stopped and stared at one of the shelves in the closest corner.  “And I believe I have found it.”  He strode over to the shelves and shoved several cans of spray paint aside.  He leaned over and peered at the wall behind the cans.  Nothing.  

“What is it Sherlock?” asked Watson.  

“The dust around these cans of spray paint was disturbed, very recently from the looks of it, and it would have made sense that something would be hidden behind them.”  He looked around the shed again, even more carefully this time, muttering to himself, “What have I missed?  What am I missing?”  Just then a shelf just a few feet away caught his attention.  “Aha!” he exclaimed as he rushed over and threw some boxes to the side.  He looked at the wall again.  

“A light, I need a light!” he exclaimed.  Watson fumbled around in his pockets before pulling out a small flashlight.  He tossed it to Sherlock, who immediately turned back to the wall.  He took a deep breath and leaned back, closing his eyes.  

“What's wrong?” asked Watson.  

“Take a look for yourself.” replied Sherlock.  Watson walked over and grabbed the flashlight.  He leaned over and shone the light at the wall where the boxes had been.  He gasped at what he saw spray painted on the wall.  “What's on a lock, what's on a trail?  You search for me, to no avail!”

            “What could that mean?” asked Watson.  

“I am not sure myself, but I have already gathered vital information from it.” replied Sherlock.  

“And what would that be?”  

“First off, this was written within the past few days, which is quite obvious because the dust on the shelves is recently disturbed, and there is no dust on the writing.  Secondly, this message was not written by Mr. White, but by whoever murdered him.  And thirdly, there were fresh footprints in the dust matching those that we found outside earlier today.  Therefore, we can deduce that this has been written in the past day or two, judging from the dust disturbance.” 

Sherlock stepped out and called back to Ms. Cutter, “Ms. Cutter, would you please step out here?”  She came out of the house after a moment, looking worried.  

“Have you found anything?” she asked.  

“We have, as a matter of fact.  And I was wondering if you have happened to see or hear anyone out here in the past day or two?”  

Ms. Cutter looked thoughtful for a moment and then exclaimed, “Yes I have, it was yesterday, about 4:30 or so.  Mr. White came out here to see what it was, and when he came back in; he told me there was nothing out here.  He said it was probably a squirrel that fell off the tree and hit the tin roof.  So I never thought anything of it after that.”  

“Hmmm…..very interesting.” replied Sherlock.  “This tells us either one of two things.  First, this is some code that Mr. White would understand, maybe a past political enemy, a former friend, and so on.  The second is that it was put here for us to discover, however both theories have their own problems.” 

“What would that be?” asked Watson.  

“It is really quite obvious; the problem with the first is that there is only one set of footprints in the dust besides our own, which means that Mr. Richard White did not set foot in here after the note was left.  More likely, he simply stepped outside, maybe circled around this shed, and returned to the house.  Therefore, he never saw this note.”  

“That is brilliant Sherlock!” exclaimed Watson.  

“Yes, however, the second theory is just as problematic.  That note could not be left for us, because that would mean that whoever left it would know that you and I specifically would be on this case.  A thing which I find extremely unlikely.  The only other option would be that this note was left to throw the police off the trail, but it seems a little too elaborate.  But this note clearly has some purpose or another, as to what that is, I have no idea yet.  I would suggest another thorough search of the house; look at all the locks for anything unusual.  Look for any keys you can find and see if any of them have anything out of the ordinary on them.  I will examine the outside of the house while you search, let me know if you find anything of interest.” 

With that, Sherlock hurried out the door and immediately began inspecting the exterior of the house, starting with the porch.  Watson walked up the path to the house, and took the steps two at a time to the porch.  He walked around the hallway checking all of the locks on the doors, but turned up nothing.  He stepped into the living room and looked at the doors of the clock they had opened earlier.  Nothing unusual.  He got down on the floor and peered under the couch and chairs and saw nothing but a thin layer of dust.  Watson stood up and brushed off his knees, then headed for the dining room.  As he stepped into the hallway he nearly ran into Ms. Cutter.  “Oh please excuse me, I didn’t know you were in there.” she said.  “No problem, I should have been paying better attention myself.” replied Watson.  Ms. Cutter went in the living room and began dusting the room.  Watson walked into the dining room and gave it a good looking over, but turned up nothing new.  After checking under the table and shining his light in the fireplace, he started upstairs.  He walked in Mr. White’s bedroom and looked through the closet, but all he found was quite a few neatly pressed shirts and a few pairs of slacks hanging up.  He got down on the floor and looked under the bed.  He thought he saw a little box in the farthest corner, so he pulled out his flashlight and pointed it in that direction.  It was a little box.  He reached under and pulled it out.  It was maybe 6 inches long and about 4 inches wide, and appeared to be made of cherry wood.  And it was locked.  And on the lock was an ornate engraving of a dragon.

Reviews

[Kimberly Miller]

Wonderful job as always! Although I do feel like I have a better understanding now that I have actually seen the show too! And a huge appreciation for your plot and explanations into how Sherlock comes to his deductions! Very impressive as always and eagerly awaiting more!

[Jeremy Hiles]

Thank you! Glad to hear it! And thank you, the deductions are usually the hardest part to figure out, but in my mind, are some of the most fun and most interesting part of the story! Well you're in luck, Chapter 7 has just been uploaded, after 10 long months since the last one lol!