My New Roommate

“I promise, he seems a bit strange at first, but he really is an alright guy,” my buddy Ben said to me before taking a large glug of his beer. “And the apartment, I mean what a steal, man. Queen Village is becoming one of the coolest areas in Philly.”

“Right… I mean, what’s strange about him, though? I’ve had some odd roommates in the past and don’t want to get stuck in another bad situation…” I responded before sipping my beer. The crisp sour taste mixed with the slight feeling of “wrongness” drinking on a Sunday afternoon (Ben and I’s weekly tradition) brought me a mix of relief and anxiety.

“Yeah, well I mean, he’s usually pretty quiet. He’s in his head a lot. I know sometimes he can go days without talking, and then some days he’s a bit manic about something or other. But it’s not a big deal. And John, you have less than a week before you have to move out… I don’t think you have many choices left, dude.”

“Yeah,” I let out a long sigh, “you’re right. So how can I meet him?”

Ben looked at his watch. “Well, I know he likes to hang out at Scarlet Roasters Sunday nights. They stay open late ‘cause they also serve booze. I remember Sherlock saying something about Sunday nights being the best time to use your mind, or something…”

“Sorry, what did you say? She-lock? Is that a name?” I thought maybe he was starting to get a bit of a drunken slur.

“No, SHER-lock. Weird, I know. He says it’s ‘old English’, whatever that means. In college we tried to come up with a nickname for him, but nothing ever really stuck, except sometimes we call him Holmes, his last name.” Ben said before finishing off his beer. “Anyway, you’ll get along just fine. Let’s go and meet him now.”

We paid our tab and went on our way down a few blocks to Scarlet Roasters. It was an all-red brick building with a black sign and gold lettering. When we get in, I’m met with the smell of stale coffee and bourbon. I instantly liked the place.

“Holmes!” Ben exclaimed, walking up to a table where a slender man with bushy, curly hair sat drinking a black coffee with an empty shot glass and a large crossword puzzle on the table. Ben gave him a too-strong slap on the shoulder as a drunken greeting.

“Benjamin.” Sherlock responded, rolling his shoulder back. He turned to me and looked me up and down nonchalantly.

“You should know, I have a lot of chemistry equipment, so I’ll need the larger bedroom if you don’t want those sorts of things laying around common areas of the apartment” he said.

“Oh, um, how did you-?” I stuttered back.

“Well, since I just mentioned to Benjamin yesterday that I needed a new roommate, and now you’re here with him, I imagine he’s trying to set us up to live together. You seem open-minded and introverted enough that I think we’d get along fine. Rent is $1,200 each, and that includes utilities. It’s a steal for such a large space downtown. Let’s get you to check out the place in the morning, and I have the lease already printed and ready to sign when you’re ready.”

My jaw dropped. I didn’t know what to say.

Ben let out a nervous laugh. “Sherlock, you ole goof, you’ve gotta actually get to know the man first!” Ben said. “This is John Watson. You’re right, he is a good dude. So, yeah, I… I’ll go get us some drinks and leave you two to get to know each other.” he said before walking off to the bar, swaying in his step.

Sherlock took a sip of his coffee and then stared at me blankly.

I gulped and gathered my thoughts. “Um, well, yeah, I just wanted to chat a bit first before agreeing to being roommates. It all sounds good, but I want to make sure we’re compatible.”

Sherlock didn’t say anything back, a jarring contrast to a minute ago.

I cleared my throat. “So, what do you like to do for fun?”

“Fun… well, I suppose my definition of fun might be different than others. My job is fun to me. But on my spare time, I like to do puzzle books. Crosswords, Sudoku, logic puzzles, those sorts of things. I also read a lot,” he responded.

“Gotcha, gotcha,” I said, relieved they aren’t loud hobbies that my previous roommates had, like video games or playing the drums. “Well, I’m a runner, so I will be out of the apartment a decent amount doing that. I also like listening to music, but I have some top-notch headphones so noise won’t be an issue on my end.”

Sherlock nodded and said, “I figured.”

I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I know you’re into music from your Joy Division t-shirt, the way you’re slightly tapping your foot to the music playing right now, and I can see the headphones popping out of your bag. The new Apple Headphones Max, not cheap, only typically bought by very wealthy people, delusional people in severe debt, or people who saved up to buy them because they actually listen to music that often. I peg you as the latter category, based on your current apartment budget” he said.

Shocked at the details he’d observed, I almost suddenly felt naked in front of him. I didn’t know if I should feel offended or creeped out, but I didn’t feel any of those. To my surprise, I felt… curious.

“How did you-?”

“Deduction. I know, it throws people off. But I just don’t see a point in trying to hide it. Especially since your next question is going to be asking what I do for work. It’s my specialty. I am a consulting detective for the Philadelphia Police. If you want to know what that means, well, by all means, you should tag along with me on a case. You don’t have to do much, but you can observe and let me know your thoughts. It would be good to have a medical observer, anyway,” he said, as if all of that was the most normal thing in the world to say.

I was speechless. He took that as room to continue.

“I know you’ve had bad roommates in the past, I can tell by your hesitation before I’d even spoken. Most men wouldn’t hesitate saying yes to a friend of a friend, especially if on such a tight deadline to find a new place to live. Your last roommate was a loud alcoholic, hence an extra need for those high-quality soundproof headphones. You enjoy music but you need to be sure you don’t hear anything else but that. You work as a nurse, as I can see by the badge attached to your backpack. You’re showing it off because you want men to be proud of being nurses, in a typically woman-dominated field. The bags under your eyes show that you must take a few overnight shifts during the week-”

“Alright, alright. I get it, you’re some sort of genius” I interrupted.

“I didn’t say that-”

“Well, you’re certainly implying it. Look, we don’t have to be friends. I’ll go look at the place tomorrow morning, and if it seems fine enough, let’s try it out.” I wanted to end the direction this conversation was going in before Ben got back. It’s not fun to feel exposed in front of your drinking buddy.

As if right on queue, Ben comes back with 3 whiskey shots.

“Whoops, these just appeared out of nowhere!” he said with a laugh, as he placed them on the table in front of each of us.

He looked at me and I couldn’t hide my vulnerable expression. “Oh god Holmes, did you do your deducking thing again?”

“Deduction” Sherlock corrected him.

“God man, you’re gonna scare him off! John, I swear it’s tolerable. Just ignore him when he does it”.

“It’s fine,” I say, picking up my shot glass. “I’m gonna check out the place and if it’s alright, I’m in.” I say, feeling oddly defensive of Sherlock.

“Well, cheers to that!” Ben said raising his shot glass, and we do the same.

“Cheers,” Sherlock and I say at the same time before downing the shot.

--

The apartment tour the next day went by in a flash. It was perfect for two men our age: large sized common spaces and decently large enough bedrooms. Huge windows to let the light in around a dining area. Sherlock already had his belongings packed up in a moving van and was ready to move in that day. He said there was no rush for me to move in too, that he’d cover prorated rent for that week.

My intuition had never been more torn. Logically, it was a great decision. Low rent for the Philly area, close to work, a roommate recommended by a friend… but I also had a feeling this might be a life-changing decision. I couldn’t pinpoint why.

I agreed to move in and signed the lease.

--

Unpacking went fairly easy, as I didn’t have much stuff and Sherlock already had all of the basics we needed. His furniture was vintage and eclectic: a dark stained wood dining table with pale green upholstered chairs, a black and white paisley patterned couch which looked uncomfortable but was actually the most comfortable I’d ever sat on. He’d laid out a dark purple rug that I couldn’t quite determine the texture of- almost velvet or silk, but somehow also fuzzy.

“Hope you don’t mind my style,” he said. “My parents were antique collectors and so they gave me a lot of their items. Each piece has a story, if you’re curious. I know it’s not the typical bachelor-pad style you’re used to, but I figured why waste money on new things when these do just fine”.

“Yeah, it’s all alright”, I responded. I couldn’t afford new furniture even if I wanted to.

“So look, I’m on the tail end of a case right now and I’m going to head off to wrap it up. You should tag along,” Sherlock said. “Since we just talked about it yesterday anyway.”

I was taken aback, and my instincts told me to decline this strange offer. Especially since I’d just finished moving my things in about 10 minutes ago, but my curiosity got the better of me.

“Oh, um, what would I even do? Is that allowed? I don’t have like, police clearance or anything like that” I replied.

“Don’t need it. My consultancy is a bit… unique. It’ll be fine. Let’s go”.

Before I knew it, we were speedwalking uptown to Center City.

I panted trying to keep up with his long strides.

“Sherlock, what am I going to be doing exactly? What do I say if someone asks while I’m there?” I asked.

“Just say you’re with me, John. It’s not a big deal. Almost there now…”

We came to a stop in front of a large, nondescript corporate office building that had police tape crossed in front of the main entrance.

Sherlock ducked underneath it and beckoned me to follow. I hesitated, feeling like I was about to step into a scene in a crime drama. A police officer nearby spotted us and rolled his eyes when he recognized Sherlock. I followed him under the tape, expecting to be yelled at or reprimanded, but the officer simply looked away.

We got inside to an entry hall, with very high tension in the air. A front desk receptionist was wiping tears from her face, and a security guard was staring off into space while a medical examiner was trying to get his attention.

“W-what-?” I stutter-asked Sherlock.

“A robbery, earlier this morning. Around 5am. I’ve just about figured it out but need to do a bit more investigating.”

“B-but it’s only 2pm. I mean, I don’t know much about detective work besides what I watch on TV, but it can’t be that fast?”

“It is for me, now come along” he said.

A man in his mid-40s, dressed disheveled but with a very focused expression came up to us when he spotted Sherlock.

“Lestrade”, Sherlock greeted him. “This is my new partner, John”

“Wait, I-” I responded.

“Hi,” the man responded and turned to Sherlock. “Look, there’s not much time Holmes. They’ve got to open the building back up. I say we go back to the station and start to figure out what the hell happened”.

“I’ve already narrowed it down to only a few options, Lestrade.” Sherlock said.

“Oh, have you?” Lestrade said as he rolled his eyes. “Of course. Well, I bet it was that janitor. He seemed so sketchy-“

“It wasn’t the janitor”.

“How do you-“

Sherlock cut him off. “Let’s go up to the office.”

The elevator ride up was quiet. Sherlock had his eyes closed the whole time, Lestrade was texting, and I was at a complete loss of anything to say, still trying to comprehend what the hell I was now a part of.

We got off the elevator to absolute chaos. Computer monitors were upside down, drawers were ransacked and opened, papers were all over the floor. Wires were pulled out of the ground and the walls.

Sherlock took out a magnifying glass and started observing the carpet.

Lestrade turned to me. “Alright, let’s chat with the suspects, while Sherlock does his… thing”.

I couldn’t think of anything else to do but nod.

“This is Earl, the janitor”. Lestrade said while raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, um, nice to meet you, I’m John”.

Earl shook my hand politely, and I thought that he didn’t seem suspicious in the slightest.

“This is Brad, the CEO of FanCorp. This is their main office”.

“Nice to meet you, John” he said, shaking my hand firmly, but I couldn’t help but notice the clamminess of his hands, and a slight tremor, something I’d gotten used to noticing as a nurse.

“This is Michelle, the IT director” Lestrade gestured towards a tall woman with long black hair”.

“Nice to meet you too” I said, giving another handshake.

“Now look, you three are suspects. We are opening the building back up, but this floor remains a crime scene. We have our consulting detectives here, and we’re going to have to ask you all a few more questions.” Lestrade explained. They nodded.

For some reason, everyone turned to me.

Lestrade widened his eyes, silently saying “go ahead”.

Does he trust Sherlock so much that he’s letting me ask questions in a crime investigation?!

I cleared my throat and tried to channel the energy of a ‘Criminal Minds’ detective.

“Um, could you each explain what happened from your perspective?”

The CEO quickly started first. “I got to the office at 6am, per usual, to find this crazy mess. The only one allowed up here before then are Earl and Michelle. I honestly have no idea how I could possibly be a suspect- why would I sabotage my own company?!”

“Why would I want to jeopardize my job, Brad?!” Michelle snapped back. “I’ve worked my ass off to get this company and our software on the ground running. Why would I tear it all apart?! And besides, I was at Starbucks until about 6:30. You can verify that with the baristas”.

“Right – Earl, what about you?” Lestrade asked.

Earl cleared his throat nervously. “I… I got here at 5:15am and the place was already ransacked. I… I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know who to call. I went down to the first floor and the receptionist and security guard were already panicking. No one would help me.”

“See! He has no alibi!” Brad accused, pointing a shaking finger at Earl.

“Alright, enough,” Lestrade said. “We’re not taking accusations from suspects. You three can go on to the station.” He nodded to a police officer that just came off the elevator, and they followed him off.

“Sherlock, any thoughts?”

“I think I know who it is. I just need to consult with my partner here,” he responded.

“W-what? Me?” I croaked. This was too much.

“Yes, John, you.”

Lestrade nodded and walked off to a nearby clutter of wires.

“Sherlock, you said I was just here to observe. I don’t have the expertise for this.” I respond shakily.

“Who do you think did it?” he asked.

“Again, I don’t have the expertise…”

“It’s not always about expertise. It’s about deductive skills. You have them, I could tell right when I met you.”

“But…”

“John, who did it?!”

“Alright! It was Brad!”

“Why?”

“His hands were sweaty! His heart was beating way too fast, and he was too eager to accuse an obvious suspect. He knew Earl wouldn’t have an alibi, and he bribed the receptionist and the security guard to let it go, but their guilt at framing another man was too much for them. It had to be him!”

I was shocked at myself.

Sherlock smiled.

“The chaotic footprints around the office were made by penny loafer shoes. A man’s shoe size. You’re correct,” he said, and gestured to Lestrade to come back. “Lestrade, it’s solved, thanks to help from my new investigative partner, here.”

Lestrade nodded. “Alright Holmes, write it up and we’ll confirm.”

They both started towards the elevator, but I grabbed Sherlock’s arm.

“I’m not your new investigative partner. That was just a guess.” I said.

“It was right, Watson. And you can’t say this wasn’t the most thrilling thing you’ve done in ages” he said.

“But- this isn’t what I signed up for. I just needed a new roommate…” I say, slowly realizing he’s right.

“But it is what you want,” he said with a wink, before walking to the elevator.