Welcome to the next installment of Sherlock: Nevermore, as featured on Ongoing Worlds.
Titled: Borsht anyone?
Cab rides were usually uneventful as Sherlock was in his own zone so John left him alone. But they stopped in a few minutes on the Thames near the Chelsea Embankment. John was surprised to arrive so quickly.
“So… our murderer is here?” he asked quizzically.
“Yes, John,” Sherlock replied standing in front of a non-descript building on the Thames. A sign on the door, in some other language, offered no insight.
“You know we aren’t anywhere near where any of the bodies were found,” John said. Sherlock ignored him, as usual, and just rung the bell. Nothing. This time, Sherlock held the ringer until it would annoy someone inside enough to come out. When they did, John had to take a step back.
The man who exited would have eaten the bouncer from the night before as a biscuit with tea. “chto ty khochesh‘?” he growled.
John was stunned but Sherlock just replied unphased, “YA khochu uvidet’ bossa.”
John was more than a little frustrated, “In English, please!”
Both men scowled at John, but then the larger looked at them both and said in a heavy accent, “Pees ov.”
For John’s benefit, Sherlock continued in English, “Now listen here, comrade, either you let us in to see Abramov or when I get to see him later, I’ll be sure to mention that you wouldn’t let me in.” The behemoth seemed shocked Sherlock knew the name and winced at him.
“Vait here,” he ordered and went back inside.
“Mind telling me the plan?” John asked.
“Gladly, I’m going to ask our soon-to-be host why he had four people killed,” Sherlock replied matter-of-factly.
“Uh…” John stammered but before he could get in another word the bouncer’s bouncer returned.
“Come vith me,” he said and held the door open.
“Spasibo,” Sherlock said.
They were escorted into a warehouse, past large vats and machines. Workers scuttled about paying no mind to the threesome. John guessed by the preparation that they were indeed making borsht. The man knocked on a large wooden door after they ascended a flight of stairs and went down a hall.
“Vvodit’ “ came from the other side and the door opened. Behind a large, mahogany desk in a palatial office. An older man with thin features and a scowl that could kill sat at the desk and with a wave beckoned them in to sit at two large, high backed chairs in front of him. Seeing no real choice, they did so.
But before either could say a word they were stabbed with syringes. The man’s scowl faded to a grin and everything went dark.
[End of Installment]
If you liked this and want to start over at the beginning of this tale, GO HERE
If you want to just go back and read the previous installment, GO HERE
For the next chapter – stay tuned (Feb. 6th, 2015)
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