Post by Sync on Jan 18, 2011 19:02:09 GMT
How does he do it?
I never knew how he always got me to partake in his stupid ideas, I just automatically found myself nodding along and grinning as if it was the best thing I’d ever heard. Sadly, it never, ever turned out that way. So here I was again, hanging upside down from the roof, begging to be let down as my ‘friend’ tested the gravitational forces. Yep, you guessed it. He’s insane. Brilliantly intelligent, but crazy all the same. But, everyone knows that those two personality traits go hand in hand. I just wished I had better perception of the ideas when they were first presented to me.
It all started fairly normally, he awoke with a dull headache caused by the alcohol he’d consumed the night before. The sun peaked desperately through the slight crack in the dark brown curtains, causing his eyes to narrow painfully. The throbbing in his head slowly increased, beginning to thunder around his mind in a barrage of impatience.
“Why do I drink again?” he muttered quietly to myself, and then sighed when I realized the answer. “Because otherwise I’d never, ever be able to stand working with Johnson.”
Phillip Johnson was a childhood friend, they had lost touch while Oliver had gone away to medical school and he to god knows where. Then there was the clichéd meeting on the street and their friendship had been reformed, it was like the good ole’ days for a while. But then Johnson proclaimed that he wanted to be a detective, following his idol from youth, Sherlock Holmes. He hadn’t seen the similarities in them at first, but Johnson most certainly had a brilliant mind and had most definitely mastered the art of deduction as well as the fictional character. Oliver, himself, didn’t see where he fit into this idea. But he did. he was to be his Dr. Watson, only difference being that his name was Oliver Locke. Going along with the scheme, it wasn’t until the newspapers began to refer to them as the modern day Sherlock Holmes and John Watson team did he start to believe it. The fact that they were situated in New York and not London didn’t seem to matter. Johnson and Locke were becoming house hold names, and he wasn’t too sure if he liked it or not.
Finally clearing his head after an aspirin or two, as well as a mug of coffee, he felt ready to face the day. Dressed in stone gray suit trousers and a plain white shirt, he adjusted the navy tie around his neck.
“Johnson! I’m going to work now, please do not try to blow up the house again today!” he called up the stairs as I pulled on the flat, plain black leather shoes onto my gray sock clad feet.
“Hmpf! I’m not a child Locke.” Was the muffled reply he received.
“Stop acting like one then.” Oliver shot back, and then slipped out of the front door before he could reply.
Unlike Watson, Locke did not run his practice from home. Instead he had a fifteen minute walk to get there. The sliding of a upstairs window caught his attention, and he looked up briefly to see Johnson hanging out of it.
“We have a case when you return by the way. They know it‘s a murder, but that‘s all they have got. How the incompetent fools on the force even got their jobs on the force, I’ll never know.” The second part of Phillip’s words were muffled, he was already returning inside. Oliver chuckled quietly to himself secretly glad, though he’d never tell Johnson this, that there was something to do. They hadn’t been given anything in a while. The ‘authority’ wasn’t too impressed by the duo, obviously their ego’s were bruised from the many times the pair had proved them wrong. Locke picked up his pace again and continued on his way to the clinic, whistling absentmindedly as he thought of what the case would turn out to be when he returned from work.
The hours at the clinic went quickly, Locke was kept busy all day. It seemed there was a bug going around and he had many people in with the same symptoms. This made his job very easy, though he wasn’t too fond of the fact that so many people had upchucked on his clean carpets. He ran his hand through his mop of dark brow locks, then stood from the chair and pulled on his jacket.
“Home time.” he said aloud, loosening his tie a little before leaving the office.
He waved his goodbye to the receptionist, and then the cleaner whom appeared from the waiting room.
“I swear to god Oliver, if there is another day like today, I’m quitin’.” he threatened, waving his fist around as if to get his point across. Oliver forced himself to keep his expression placid, but had to muffle the laughter than came to his through. Lillian on reception didn’t bother, which wasn’t much help.
“I agree Al’, all these sick people coming to the doctors! Fools, the lot of them!” he told the male seriously, but a smirk was pulling at his lips. The old man wheeled the mop and bucket away, muttering profanities as he went. Locke could no longer hold onto his laughter and joined in with Lillian’s hysterics. After they had sobered up, he said his goodbyes once again and left the clinic, picking up the whistling he’d started this morning.
“Where the heck have you been Locke?” Johnson called down the street. He’d been pacing back and forth the town house for the last 40 minutes. “I’ve been waiting ages! Come on, come on! Hurry, hurry!” he shouted, stopping his pacing to glare at his companion.
“Sorry, I was chatting to Al’.” muttered Locke in response, not bothering to pick up the pace. He knew he was doing it intentionally to annoy Phillip. Finally he reached his pacing friend, and was dragged inside with strength you wouldn’t think Johnson had. The lean male reached about 6’1, but he wasn’t muscle bound in the slightest. Well, not to look at. He had sandy blonde hair than curled at the edges which almost made him childlike to look at, with deep blue eyes that were almost bottomless. His skin was also very pale, it made him look almost ill. He had a broad mouth and strong jaw line which was the only thing that made him look adult enough, as well as the height of course. He was handsome in an unconventional way, unlike Oliver himself. He had thick, straight brown hair that was almost black. He also had an Olive complexion due to Spanish ancestry. He had broad shoulders and a well muscled chest to match. He reached around 6’5, nearly 6’6 even. Locke also had very strong, masculine features. He always had, nobody could ever mistake him for childlike. The pair certainly contrasted one another greatly, but they some how fitted together. Oliver dug his heels in suddenly, his brow lifting as he met Phillip’s stare.
“Why are you in such a rush?” Oliver asked, his full lips pulled into a tight line after he’d spoken. He knew it was about the case, and he had a funny feeling he had to try something out for Johnson. He knew by the instinctive feeling in his gut that he wasn’t going to like it.
“How would you like to be a bat for an hour?” Johnson question, a faux innocent grin on his childlike face. Oliver was already shaking his head violently.
“No. No! NO!” he shouted as Johnson already began to drag him to the living room. “Not again Phillip! Last time you had me hanging upside down I had a head rush for a week.” he argued, his hazel oracles glinting with defiance.
“Please! Not for an hour then, 20 minutes. I just need to see how much the coloring of your face changes.” Johnson pleaded.
“Fine, but 20 minutes only!” Oliver relented, removing his tie completely as well as his shoes and jacket. Johnson grinned, and rushed off like an excited puppy to prepare whatever contraption he was going to use.
And that was how Oliver found himself hanging from the ceiling. Johnson was patiently explaining why he was doing this while he watched the changes in the shade of his friend’s face.
“The woman’s face was still very pale when she was found, but the ‘authority’,” he made air apostrophes around the word authority as he spoke. “believe she was killed when she was hanging upside down. I, do not.” he muttered, ahh’ing when Oliver’s face went purple. He then began to let his friend down, keeping the promise of leaving him there for just 20 minutes.
“So me hanging up there proves your point by showing that my face went deep purple and didn’t stay pale. So she wasn’t murdered while hanging there.” Oliver concluded his own ponderings aloud, causing Phillip to nod his agreement.
“Precisely Locke.”
Oliver gulped down the water he’d just been handed, glad that the head rush wasn’t as bad as last time. In fact, it hadn’t really affected him. This began to worry him slightly, he was obviously doing this too often.
“It also tells me that she couldn’t have been found too long after it had happened either, her body was pretty much perfect when they found her. It doesn’t solve how she was murdered though. Fancy going to see the body, Doctor?” he asked, adding the last word with sly undertones. Locke rolled his eyes but nodded. Soon the pair were in a cab and making their way to the station.
“Johnson. Locke. Good to see you again.” The tone Constable Rivers used implied the complete opposite to what he said. Both men exchanged a look, broad grins spreading over each of their faces. They knew how much they were despised around here. They followed the man in silence, still smiling at the hostile glares they received as they passed by.
“You know where in Morgue is, Isabella should still be there.” River’s hissed, turning on his heels and marched back down the hallway to his office. Locke’s eyes lit up at the mention of Isabella. Johnson noticed this and dug his elbow into his partner’s ribs.
“Now, now Oliver. Don’t get too excited, we’re here on business.” he teased, earning a smack across the back of the head from Locke.
“C’mon, you’re the one who wants to see the body, not me.” Oliver grumbled, shoving Phillip down toward the morgue. As they went, Oliver’s mind strayed to Isabella. They spent a lot of time with the auburn haired, emerald eyed female. She seemed to be the only person around here that tolerated them. It was no secret to anyone bar Isabella herself that he had a little crush on her. Phillip teased him about it mercilessly. Oliver shoved open the door to the morgue after Phillip had typed in the code into the security lock, nearly running straight into Isabella, stopping just short before he knocked her over.
“I wondered how long it would take you two to appear.” she told them, amusement colouring her soft vocals. She kept her eyes on Oliver, causing a slight flush to dust his cheeks. Phillip snickered childishly behind him, and Oliver kicked out and caught his knee.
“Ouch. Only donkey’s kick Oliver.” he imitated his mothers voice who always used that saying when he was younger. Oliver rolled his eyes, but the smirk on his face was hard to miss. Isabella had her own grin in place as she watched the pair antics, they never failed to amuse her.
“Body's over there.” she interrupted their little argument, gesturing with her thumb toward the sheet covered human. An air of serious fell over the pair as they approached the body, they were in business mode once again. Phillip pulled back at the sheet and remained impassive as the body was uncovered. Oliver also didn’t show a reaction other than the tightening of his jaw. No matter how many times you see a dead body, it never got any easier. Isabella handed them a pair of gloves each, and then Oliver stepped forward. First his hands pressed along the bodies neck, feeling for any broken bones or deformities. His brow rose and he looked up to meet Isabella’s green gaze.
“Yeah, I know. Broken neck. She was strangled, they won’t believe me though.” she sighed, causing Oliver and Phillip to exchange looks. Phillip was the first to speak up.
“Well, if that isn’t suspicious well I don’t know what is.” he said quietly.
“And why didn’t Rivers come to the morgue with us? Usually he comes and watches us like a hawk.” Oliver added.
“Didn’t you know? This is his wife.” Isabella eyed them in surprise. She thought they had known. The men exchanged glances again.
“He doesn’t look very.. upset..” Phillip said carefully, eyes now on the door to the morgue. Isabelle looked between the two men and gasped, she’d finally clued into what they were implying.
“No way.. It’s his wife! He wouldn’t do that, would he?” Then she seemed to remember something. “She was having an affair.” she added quietly, so quietly the two men had to strain to hear her.
“It does explain how she was found so quickly.” Oliver said softly, looking at Phillip who nodded.
“But, now we’ve got to find a way to prove it.” Phillip announced, looking between each of them. “We have the motive, we know how he did it. But that isn’t enough evidence. Come on team, get your thinking caps on. We have a mystery to solve!”
It is now done, and I've left it as a cliffhanger to annoy my teacher ^^ If i'm nagged enough, I will do a second one for those who want to read it. But for now, this is it.
