The Case Begins

"Where are we going?", asked Watson, getting up from his chair and putting on his coat.

"Why, to your house of course!", replied Sherlock, signalling Watson to leave the room.

"What do you hope to find in my house?"

"I never hope, Watson. If there is something to be found, I shall find it."

"Very well, my house it is."

Both men walk down the stairs, and open the door to leave.

"Leaving so soon, John?", came Mrs. Hudson's voice from down the hallway.

"I was just making some tea, come sit, it's been so long since you last came here, we hardly see you around anymore."

"Thanks for the offer Mrs. Hudson, but I'm terribly sorry, Sherlock and I have an extremely urgent situation to attend to. I'm afraid the tea will have to wait."

"Oh all right, you boys never did have time for little old me. Go on then, shoo!", chuckled Mrs. Hudson, turning around and going inside.

Sherlock reached the pavement and whistled, and as if on cue, there arrived a carriage, waiting to take them to their destination. Once inside the cab, Sherlock looked over at Watson, who had a tragedy written all over his face and was in visible distress, understandably so.

"Don't worry, Watson. We will find Mary and get her home safe, I promise."

"How can you be so sure?", replied Watson in a trembling voice.

"How do we even know she's alive right now? What if it's all a hoax just to get you out from the shadows?"

"Then out from the shadows I shall emerge. But, for now, let us work under the presumption that Mary is very much alive and in dire need of our help. Now pull it together, Watson, I need you to be strong. You've always been much better at this emotional mumbo jumbo than I ever have. Come, we're almost here."

After about five minutes, the men arrived at their destination. Sherlock paid the driver and then signaled Watson to lead the way into the house. Watson stepped forward and Sherlock followed him inside the house.

"Now", said Sherlock, "Tell me exactly what happened, and where it happened."

"Well", began Watson, "I came home at about ten thirty, approximately five to ten minutes earlier than I usually do."

"That explains the shoddiness."

"Well, now that I think about it, yes, you might have a point.", continued Watson, "I then came inside, and called for Mary while taking off my jacket here, pointing to the living room sofa, next to the dining table. When I didn't hear a reply after a couple of times, I went to the kitchen to grab something to eat, assuming that Mary had gone to sleep earlier than usual tonight. I found some Yorkshire Pudding, and carried it to the bedroom, expecting to find her in deep sleep. That's when my eyes stumbled upon the letter. It was placed on the counter top beside the bed. I put the pudding aside and after reading the letter, looked around for clues. Unsurprisingly, I couldn't find any, so I decided to come to you right away.", finished Watson.

"Show me the bedroom.", said Sherlock.

Sherlock accompanied Watson to the bedroom and showed him the counter top where he found the letter. Sherlock then began his process of examining every evidence in great detail, and examined the counter top thoroughly. After two minutes of silence, Sherlock stood up, walked towards the window blinds, pushes them aside, and examines the area behind the curtains.

"This is where the kidnapper hid while he was waiting for Mary. This is also where he hid her while you were out here searching for her."

"How do you know this?", asked Watson, bewildered.

"Well, if you look closely, you can see the faint imprint of his right shoe on the wall here, while he waited for her. Also, as you can see, there is plenty of space behind this curtain, and as no light was coming from outside, nothing was visible. You can also see some scratch marks made by long nails, which presumably means that this is where Mary tried to struggle and free herself of her captor. Maybe he had a gun to her the whole time while you were here, and after you left to find me, she managed to knock it out of his hand, but unfortunately failed to escape."

"So you mean to say", replied Watson in a weak voice, "she was here all this time, right under my nose?"

"Now, Watson, you mustn't take this the wrong wa-"

"SHE WAS RIGHT HERE, AND I LET HER GO. I LET HER GO, HOLMES. THIS IS A WASTE OF TIME", shouted Watson, sinking to his knees, face in his hands.

As Sherlock stepped forward to help Watson, he noticed a piece of broken glass lying near the edge of the bed. He went and picked it up, and examined it for a minute.

"Well, well, well", exclaimed Sherlock.

"You know what, Watson? Maybe coming here wasn't a waste of time after all. I believe I may have found our kidnapper", finished Sherlock, with the faintest hint of a smile appearing on his face.