The Thinker Challenge

Chapter 3: The Hazards of Hoovering

Months after their first meeting, Sherlock comes across Sio Stanton’s card, which after careful consideration, he had left in a book he would be unlikely to read, stashed in a corner far from his favorite chair. Earlier that day, John had come around and while waiting for Sherlock to finish some project, had rifled through his books in a fit of boredom and impatient annoyance at having been urgently beckoned on this Saturday morning only to be kept waiting. The card had fallen on the floor, unnoticed by John and discovered later by Mrs. Hudson, who insisted on giving the carpet a quick hoover. She had put it on his music stand for safe keeping.

Things had been a bit dull lately, comparatively speaking. Mycroft had suggested he lay low for a time due to his involvement in a few high profile cases, some of which had ended badly. John was busy with the baby. Sherlock’s mind was growing restless and something must be done. He had been looking for an excuse to go undercover again in his drug den of choice, but nothing presented itself. He knew since the last time, he was being watched carefully and so a reasonable excuse – very reasonable –would be required. Why can’t they just mind their own bloody business. They don’t know what its like. Biding his time was acceptable at the minute, but he needed something.

Which perhaps explains why, upon discovering the card on his music stand as he was preparing to attempt a new composition, he held it in his hand for quite some time and did not, as he also hadn’t done before, throw it in the trash bin. He reconsidered their prior meeting in some detail. She was not unattractive. He had previously deduced that she had not come to the interview on the pretense of propositioning him. If so, she would have put more effort into her appearance —a touch of lipstick, more form fitting clothing. He knew what women do when they wish to be noticed in that way. In truth, he had done a bit of research after her departure only to discover a single picture of her looking as you might expect someone looking for that kind of attention might look. Nothing extreme, mind you, but different than the much more abundant professional pictures that appeared in the first pages that came up. And yet the picture exists. But only one…

So she had been convinced during their meeting, which he again found odd, as she neither flirted nor appeared to solicit flirtation from either himself or John.

There was something appealing in her directness. Considering the subject, their private conversation was relaxing in a way. He considered the likelihood that she may have been attempting a ruse – if they were, in fact, alike enough as was her supposition, could she fool him as he was able to fool others? But what would be the purpose? Unlikely, he decided. Such a direct approach would be risky. Even he would not seek out scrutiny, particularly of someone who was likely to challenge.

So perhaps he would call. Or better yet, text. Just to see what she had in mind.