The man who couldn’t lie

“You’re the only one who can help me, the only one who will believe me.”

The detective heard these words often, too often, so often that they had long since grown tiresome to him, and he tended neither to listen nor to make eye contact with his potential clients. The cases he was currently handling were becoming increasingly tedious, and because of this constant boredom, the feeling of not being mentally challenged, he kept slipping into an almost manic lethargy. The young woman who had been talking to him for an hour now didn’t even stir a reaction in him at first, and he was on the verge of throwing her out of his apartment. But then suddenly she said something... that triggered a response in him, a small, minimal flicker of interest washed over him, even though her words sounded rather banal.

“He never took drugs... he didn’t even take painkillers or antibiotics. He was content, he had a goal... he wanted to do something good..  it makes no sense that he would have injected heroin into his veins during this phase...”

Sherlock straightened his shoulders and sat up straight, his expression was neutral, even somewhat dismissive.

"He did exactly that... the autopsy findings are unequivocal."

The young woman with the long, well groomed dreadlocks shook her head vehemently.

“Yes… that was the police’s reasoning too. They told me that the loss of his family might have caused the grieving process to set in later, and that the flood of emotions drove him to increase his usual dose. They didn’t listen to me, and just because he became a millionaire through the inheritance and still lived with me in a tent… that doesn’t make him a junkie!”

Sherlock slowly raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

"If I am to take the case, and I have yet to be persuaded..I will require more than that."

She nodded eagerly, almost gratefully.

“I’ll tell you everything… everything!”

He didn’t give her a clear yes or no, but he didn’t let John in on it either.. it could be a trifling matter he could solve in a few minutes without having to listen to any platitudes about emotional support and poor sort of widows, where Sherlock would have to watch his language. Two weeks later, however... the detective had fully immersed himself in this world, and the information being relayed to him was almost causing him euphoria.

.The case of the man who couldn’t lie.

Emmanuel Alverton, 25 years old, was found dead three months ago in St. Dunstan’s Park, a place known for its church ruins and gardens, but not necessarily considered a tourist attraction in London. He reportedly died of a heroin overdose, the needle was still in his arm. The police found no evidence of foul play, which is why the case was quickly closed. Emmanuel came from a 'good' family, his father was a respected bureaucrat who had joined a publicly traded company many years ago and thereby brought wealth to himself and his family. He and his wife had only one son, who, however, was quite the maverick when, at the age of 18, he didn’t even start college but instead traveled the world, without money... without a cell phone, just a backpack and the illusion of exploring the world with kind words, acts of kindness, and bartering. He ended up in Indonesia then in Thailand... lived there for several years and got by with odd jobs, that’s also where he met the Scottish woman Kaya. He had cut off contact with his parents, but eventually he received word that they had died in a car accident and that he was now to claim his inheritance.

He had only two weeks left to decide for or against it, because it had taken a long time to track him down, and although he initially wanted to renounce the inheritance, he ultimately decided to accept it in order to use the money for good causes or even donate it. In addition to a small house in London’s Belgravia, he also inherited several apartments in Chelsea and Hampstead, but these held little interest for him, they were rented out, and he had no need to manage them. What he could not ignore, however, was the settlement of his father’s stock transactions. Emmanuel had never dealt with it, nor was he interested in it... but in order to leave London again and build a life with Kaya on the other side of the world, a few things had to be sorted out.

He held a 50.2% stake in a company called He/Ox Containment Group plc, making him a majority shareholder and thus forcing him into a position of formal control. The company’s field of activity included: final storage for industrial chemicals, special projects for governments, such as contaminated sites from military and industrial sources and the development of sealing and insulation systems, with clients also in the U.S. across the chemical, pharmaceutical, and energy sectors, among others. A politically very sensitive issue and semi governmental. At first, Emmanuel was only concerned with how he could get out of this situation, but then he realized what he had gotten himself into: one of the chemical companies was paying billions for He/Ox to stabilize toxic substances, store them in underground depots, and assume legal responsibility. And when Emmanuel realized what all this meant, he resolved to use his 50.2% stake to bring his own ideas to the table and advocate for the protection of nature, the world, and humanity.

And this is where Sherlock grew suspicious, because no sooner had the young man sent off a very detailed proposal for avoiding excessive chemical use and abolishing the secret disposal sites than he was found dead. His girlfriend was right... this wasn’t just strange, it actually made no sense at all. Since Emmanuel had no surviving relatives... and there were no aunts or uncles, and since he wasn’t married to Kaya, the inheritance went to the state.. and that, too, made the detective suspicious.

It was almost too obvious and clear cut for his trained, intelligent mind, but the magnitude of this case intrigued him, because that would mean he had a damn big fish on the hook. And this was the moment when he decided to let John in on it as well. Well… or to throw him, so to speak, into the proverbial deep end and present him with a fait accompli.

There were things Sherlock usually handled on his own, and there were things he liked to pass off to John, because they were too... trivial for him, and he didn’t see the point in wasting his time on conversations that, while helpful, were, in his opinion, more of a footnote. Emmanuel wasn’t a financial expert, and yet he had created a very detailed portfolio that seemed almost too professional, and he must have sought help to do so. Sherlock found a search history on the victim’s laptop, which Kaya had provided him with, in which Emmanuel was looking for someone who could help him analyze unusual payment structures and invisible money transfers. He had contacted a man named Gustavo Cortez, but only the first few chat messages were legible, everything else was encrypted.

Sherlock wanted to find out to what extent this man had been involved in the case, whether he knew anything that might be useful to him, or… whether he might actually be working on behalf of He/Ox. Or rather, it wouldn’t be Sherlock who found this out, but…

It was a Monday afternoon when John returned to Baker Street; Sherlock didn’t care what John had been doing, and he cared even less about where he’d been. What bothered him was that John didn’t enter the flat until 4:00 p.m. instead of his usual 3:06 p.m., because that could have thwarted his plan. He was reading a book... or he was simply staring at the words while ignoring John and almost tuning him out. At 4:05 p.m., the doorbell rang, Mrs. Hudson opened the door, and a courier stepped inside, immediately climbing the stairs and poking his head in.

“Dr. John Watson? I’m bringing you the plane ticket you booked. Have a nice evening.”

Sherlock didn’t move, his eyes flickered briefly toward John, and then he waited for the other man to speak up, of course. Inside a sturdy white envelope was a ticket...

Dr. John Watson (M) Monday, April 8, 2026, London Heathrow (LHR) to New York, John F. Kennedy International (JFK). Departure at 10:00 p.m., arrival at 1:30 a.m. (New York time), Economy class.

 @Gustavo Cortéz Jr., @Dr. John Watson..