Written by Joe Janes
211 of 365
Sherlock Holmes, 40s
Dr. Watson, 50s
(Lights up on homicide Detective Murdoch and Officer Chandler at a crime scene on an urban street. At their feet is a body covered in a sheet.)
MURDOCHAnother day, another drive-by shooting, right Chandler?
CHANDLERPoor kid. Looks like he’s all of 17.
MURDOCHHave the city morgue tag him and bag him. Not much we can do here.
(Enter Sherlock Holmes quickly followed by Dr. Watson.)
SHERLOCKOne moment, detective.
WATSONAh, there, Holmes. I told you I heard a gunshot.
SHERLOCKVery good, Watson. It’s quite fortunate that we happened to be in the neighborhood.
(Holmes lifts the sheet and looks over the body.)
MURDOCHWho the hell are you guys?
WATSON (laughing)Oh, my. Oh, my.
CHANDLERWhat’s so funny?
WATSONThis is the greatest detective in the world.
SHERLOCKMy comrade has a tendency for hyperbole.
MURDOCHNo, shit. You’re Sherlock Holmes?
SHERLOCK (standing)Indeed, I am, Detective-
MURDOCHMurdoch. Nice to meet you. Big fan. We’ve all heard of you.
MURDOCHThose of us with the ability to read have heard of you.
WATSONIt’s a good thing we’re here.
CHANDLERDon’t know what good it’s going to do. Kid was shot from a moving car. He may have been the target, it may have been a stray, may have been a case of mistaken identity-
MURDOCHMay even have been done on a dare. The odds of us fingering the perp are damn near zero.
WATSONOh, the odds don’t matter to Mr. Holmes.
MURDOCHWell, what can you tell us?
SHERLOCKHere’s what I can tell you about the victim. He’s a high school student on his way home from football practice. He's a linebacker. He’s right handed. Not an “A” student, but he made passing grades. He has an older brother overseas in the military.
CHANDLERHow do you figure all that?
SHERLOCKBeefed up shoulders from blocking drills. The right shoulder is larger than the other. The calluses on his right hand indicate he does his homework, but probably uses cheap, inexpensive pens and pencils. He does the work, but doesn’t care enough to be “A” student material. His shoes are a Nike knock-off only available in the Middle East at stores that set up just outside US military bases and feature bootleg American products.
CHANDLERSo, who’s the killer?
WATSONI bet it was this young man’s butler!
(Murdoch and Chandler shake their heads.)
WATSON (continuing)Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Spurned mistress?
(They shake their heads.)
WATSON (continuing)Oh! A close relative hoping to inherit his fortune.
MURDOCHHe had a fortune?
WATSONPerhaps this is the devious work of Professor Moriarty trying to discredit you.
SHERLOCKOf course, Moriarty!
CHANDLER (to Murdoch)Who’s Moriarty?
MURDOCHReal asshole. Where can we find this Moriarty, Mr. Holmes?
SHERLOCKHe’s too clever to leave any evidence at the scene of a crime. And I’m sure he’s constructed an ironclad alibi. Even if you found him, you would probably end up releasing him.
(Murdoch and Chandler laugh.)
WATSONNow, it’s my turn to ask what’s so funny?
MURDOCHThis is Chicago.
We’ll beat a confession out of the bastard. Just point us in the right direction.
WATSONKnowing Moriarty, he’s probably at the Men’s Club in Hyde Park boasting about duping one Sherlock Holmes.
SHERLOCKRight, you are, Watson.
MURDOCHLet’s go, Chandler. The morgue crew can clean up here. Thank you, Mr. Holmes. It was a real pleasure to see you and your associate, Dr. Watson, at work.
(They exit. Holmes and Watson look at the body)
WATSONYou really don’t know who killed this lad, do you?
SHERLOCKNo, I do not. Senseless violence sure has taken the fun out of detective work.
WATSONLet’s go back to that pub around the corner.
SHERLOCKRight. I believe the bartender was just about to tell us where we can score some cocaine.
(They walk off. Lights fade.)