deal or no deal | Sherlock Holmes

6

𝐸𝓋𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

I am knackered. I could hardly sleep last night. I was up most hours of the night thinking of Samuel. Rereading his letters over and over again. The second letter is also missing letters. Just like the first.

G  O  O  O

I still have absolutely nothing. Well, Sherlock has absolutely nothing. I suppose it's not my responsibility anymore. It's Enola I must worry about.

Speaking of which, I have somewhere I need to be. I'm supposed to meet Sherlock at his office so we can exchange evidence.

I grab anything in my files that could possibly help Sherlock. Once it's all gathered I leave my flat. I'm locking my door when I hear an all too familiar voice.

"Morning, Evangeline." I flinch as I turn to face the man himself. "Fancy seeing you here."

"What are you doing here?" I hastily ask Sherlock.

"Aren't you chipper?" He smirks stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I live here. I'm in 221B." He motions upstairs.

I lick my teeth. "So you're the one that stomps around all hours of the night?"

"And you're the one that complains about it." He winks. I roll my eyes before handing the letters over. "This is all you've got?"

"What? Is it not enough for you?" I ask in a teasing manor. "The great Sherlock Holmes can't decipher a few letters?"

"Of course I can." He scoffs. He quickly reads over the letters and mutters to himself. "GOOO?"

"Or OOOG. However you want to take it." I sigh, heading for the door. Before I can open it it swings open, pushing me into the wall.

"Oh! Sorry miss!" A chimney sweeper. Poor guy is covered in soot, only thing you can really see is his eyes, the rest of his face is covered with a scarf.

"You should watch where you're going next time boy." Sherlock gives him a warning look.

"Oh it's no big deal, Sherlock. I grew up with a brother I'm used to it." I wave him off. "All is forgiven, Mr..."

"Cain." He holds out a hand for me to shake. I hesitate but do it anyways. "Well, chimney won't clean it's self." He tosses his broom up and catches it before running up stairs.

"Youth." Sherlock shakes his head before looking back at me. "They're odd ones."

"Says the old man." I tease, grabbing the door handle to open the door. A piece of paper at the ground catches my attention. "You've had my letters for two minutes and you've already almost lost one."

"I did nothing of the sort..." he holds up my letters.

I look to the one in my hand. The envelope hasn't been opened yet. Sherlock nudges me, urging me to open it up.

𝚃𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝙴𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎:
𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚊_ 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚞𝚙. 𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚎_𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍. 𝙸'𝚖 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚗_𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞.