Chapter 10
The following day, when Sherlock was visiting Allerdale Hall again, Thomas decided he wanted as little secrecy as possible from the detective. He planned to be honest with him. The two men were in the living room, and Lucille had made them tea as she had every day before. But this time she put the poison directly into the detective's mug.
The two men sat opposite each other, discussing the various machines and events around them. What's new in the world, what's happening in London, etc. The detective put a cup of tea to his mouth to make it look like he was drinking. But there was one thing he didn't expect.
„Don't drink it,” Thomas said, rising from his chair, leaning over and lowering Sherlock's cup.
„Poisoned? Yes, I know. I didn't even intend to drink it,” he replied simply with a playful smile. The baronet merely nodded in surprise and returned to his chair.
„Good. I know the first time you poured it all out,… I thought you knew, but I wanted to be sure,” he said in a low voice, in case Lucille decided to eavesdrop.
„Thank you for your concern, but what is it that you suddenly decided to tell me that?” he asked.
„I'm sure you already know the answer well, so I don't have to answer it. However, I gather you're not just here for the interest and my machines,” he replied, his attitude changing slightly. Now it looked like a game of words Thomas hadn't played in a long time and was looking forward to.
„You're right. Originally, I intended to find out what happened to Edith. The fact that I was at the bank and the ball was no accident. But to be honest, at first, I only took you as a classic suspect, but my interest in you has become genuine,” he said honestly, settling down better.
„In all my years of moving among others, I have acquired such an ability. I know when I'm being lied to. You wouldn't even believe me that most people are very bad liars. But you? You're telling the truth. Thank you,” he said with a mysterious gleam in his eyes.
„I'm glad, and about Edith, will you help me end this case?” asked Sherlock.
„My pleasure. I'm happy to help, but I'm afraid it might split us in two,” he replied with a sigh.
„You fear guilt.”
„I just can't do it anymore. All those lies. And then Lucille,…” he couldn't find the words.
„I'll help you,” he said firmly and without compromise, but with complete calm.
„What?” said the baronet.
„You heard me. I'm going to help you.”
„Good. It's time to atone for all the sins I've committed.”
„That's fine talk, but you're not. I can see it in your eyes. You're scared, and there's nothing wrong with that. Besides, what I've learned in my time with you, your sister is behind a lot of things,” he said, placing his teacup on the table. „Apparently that was her plan. If I step in, you can still get away with it,” he smiled, standing up and adjusting his suit.
„I'd just like that,” the baronet said, following his case, walking up to the detective and looking into his large brown eyes. He took his cheek gently, and before Sherlock could object, Thomas gave him a quick kiss on the lips. This kiss lasted only a tiny moment, but Holmes felt it was both right and wrong. He wished he hadn't finished, but at the same time, a small, familiar voice in him shouted that it wasn't right. That he shouldn't have anything to do with him. Especially when it was his suspect he could lose in a split second. The kiss ended and he stood there as if his feet had been chained to the floor. He could feel his ears burning and he was speechless. He lowered his gaze, wondering what to do next.
„Was that too bold of me?” the Baronet asked, noting Sherlock's reaction.
„No. I was just a little taken aback,” he admitted. „Um, it's been very interesting here today, but I have to go. I still have an appointment with Scotland Yard,” he cleared his throat and walked to the door.
„Can I expect you again tomorrow?” the baronet asked in the doorway, his voice hopeful.
„Is the Pope Catholic?” replied Sherlock, with a playful smile.
„I can hardly wait. Until then, take care,” he said. With that, Sherlock returned home. The meeting with Scotland Yard was merely an excuse, though he felt they were yet to be called. And he was right. About two hours later, Clarke contacted him about finding a body. Lestrade thought it was murder, while the detective simply made it clear that this time it was a calculated suicide.
That very evening, when Sherlock finally returned to Baker Street, after stretching his body at the game after the case, and looking slightly exhausted, he wanted to sit quietly in a chair and smoke. He might even take a little heroin to keep his mind off things, but he couldn't do any of that, since John was sitting there when he entered the apartment.
He sat there in his seat, studying a web of information that he had a perfect view of. Hearing the door, John turned to greet his friend. He planned to finally return home since the ship was already repaired. But he couldn't leave without a proper goodbye.
„To what do I owe this surprise?” asked Sherlock.
„I came to say goodbye to my best friend. Tomorrow Mary and I intend to leave London,” he replied, standing up.
„Well, congratulations. I'm very happy for you,” he said, removing his coat and lighting his pipe.
„Can I hug you for goodbye?” the doctor asked.
„And Mary won't mind?” he retorted. But Watson was already holding him in a tight embrace.
„I'll miss you, old boy. I wish I could stay longer,” and he kissed him on both cheeks. Sherlock merely patted him on the back and then pulled away.
„I get it. I'll miss you, too, but now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get some sleep,” the detective said, starting for the door.
„Holmes, please wait. While I was waiting for you, I looked into the information regarding the Sharpe family. Be careful. Don't trust them,” he tried to warn him, grabbing his arm to stop him.
„I know very well who not to trust. The baronet is fine. Now I plan to prove his innocence,” he protested.
„Are you kidding? Have you lost your mind? He's dangerous!”
„No, he's not. And you won't change my mind,” he argued.
„Oh, no... don't tell me you have feelings for him. He's probably the killer,” he said, in pain.
„He's not a murderer. I can tell. And my feelings are none of your business. Best wishes to you and Mary, and now, if you please, I'm going to bed,ů he snatched out of John's grip, went into the bedroom, and closed the door behind him. He made it clear he didn't want to be disturbed.
„God, what are you punishing me for?” sighed Yon, moving once more to the web of the case. He scanned the Baronet's photo into a hand-held computer. Later, he would put it into the ship's computer, which he had made operational, and find out his own. Something was wrong with Thomas Sharpe, and he was about to find out what.
He went back to the ship, which he already had loaded with the necessary food and drink, the backup engines working, and he still had enough fuel and power to get back. He moved the scanned data from the bracelet to the onboard computer, which automatically began to evaluate it. Before he knew the results, he decided to have a glass of champagne. The way this planet was lagging, he had to admit they had excellent alcohol. He settled comfortably into his chair, and drank as the computer showed him the results. He almost choked up when he read who it was.
As a precaution, he had the photo re-examined, but again with the same result. If it didn't sound crazy, he'd tell Sherlock. He didn't want to hear any of that. He took a deep breath and thought. Sherlock was important to him, and besides, he didn't tell anyone back home that he was coming back. Eventually, he decided he wouldn't be back for another day. Tomorrow he would go to Sherlock's and warn him. If that doesn't work, he'll have to take matters into his own hands.