Title: Merryweather's Love of Cow Parsley
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Rating: G
Length:727 words
Summary: Sherlock is helping at a case on Regent's Canal.  John has come to watch and is joined by Inspector Stanley Hopkins (Met River Police).

John Watson stood on a bridge over the Regent Canal, watching the occupants of a narrow boat slightly further up the canal talking to a couple of mounted police officers.  He felt a hand on his arm and turned to greet the newcomer.

“Hello, Stanley,” he said.  “I wasn’t expecting to see you.  I didn’t think horses were your thing.”

“They’re not,” Inspector Stanley Hopkins agreed.  “But they may be needing divers later, so I’ve come along to find out what’s happening.”

The two of them watched as the narrow boat headed towards the bridge, the horses walking by the side of the boat along the towpath.

“I doubt they’ll find anything here,” Stanley said.  “Let’s walk along to the next tunnel.  If they do stop, we can always walk back to them.”

“From the way Sherlock’s gesturing I think he may be of the same opinion.”

Stanley laughed.  “Yes, I rather doubt progress at 4mph is going to suit him.  But he insisted on coming.  And for once he can level his complaints at Greg, rather than me.”

They walked along the towpath together, Stanley talking about the history of the canal as they did so.

“But why are they taking a narrow boat?” John asked.  “Surely one of those little grey things would be better?  Or one of your smaller vessels.”

“The Goboats are still restricted to the same speed.  And although we’re fairly sure Jackson arrived by narrow boat, we don’t know why.  If there was a significance to his chosen mode of transport then they’re most likely to work out what it was by copying him.”

“Fair enough.”

The two police horses had caught up with them, so they stood to one side to let them pass.

“We’ll follow the horses over the next bridge.  The towpath changes sides there.  You can see the tunnel ahead.”

“I still find it hard to believe they had to walk the canal boats through the tunnels,” John said.  “Good job the boats now have engines.  I can’t imagine Sherlock wanting to do that.”

“No, it would spoil the creases in those smart trousers.” 

The mounted police sergeant laughed, and Stanley asked her if they’d found anything of interest.

“Not yet,” she replied.  “Common consent seems to be that Jackson used a narrow boat simply so he could blend in.  He may also have found it a convenient way of transporting his merchandise.”

“Rather a slow way to bring drugs in though, isn’t it?” John said.

“You wouldn’t do the whole journey by narrow boat, just the last bit into the heart of the city.  They’re planning on examining the tunnel closely, so we’ll wait here.”

She called out to her colleague, who told his own horse to stop.  At which point the horse stretched out for some tempting vegetation which was growing just at head height.

“Oy, you!” the constable exclaimed.  “You’ve had your breakfast.  You don’t need a mid-morning snack.”  Then he stopped and said, “Come here, sarge!”

The sergeant urged her horse forward, followed by Stanley and John.  The man was pointing to part of the brickwork which looked as if it had been recently disturbed.  Standing up in the stirrups he leant forward and removed one of the bricks.  Stanley offered up his torch, and the constable shone it into the gap.

“I reckon we’ve found it,” he said.

The sergeant similarly peered into the gap.  “He’s right,” she said.

“Shall I go and let those on the boat know?” John asked.

“Yes, please,” Stanley said. 

John ran back to the tunnel entrance, where Sherlock was examining some marks on the stonework.  He told them what had been found.

“Of course,” Sherlock said.  “And these marks give directions to that hiding place.  If we can find more marks, I can break the code.  We need to keep looking, Lestrade.”

Greg nodded.  “I’ll tell them to continue helping you, Sherlock.  In the meantime, I need to organise the recording and removal of what has already been found.”

The narrow boat was manoeuvred over to the side of the canal and Greg clambered out, John stretching an arm out to help him.

“Thank you,” Greg said once he was safely on the towpath.  “How did you come to find the hiding place?”

“That was thanks to Merryweather and his love for cow parsley,” John replied.