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Cancelled Negatives	By : SisterWine Category: 1 through F > Elementary Views: 814 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Elementary. Creator is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Series creator is Robert Doherty. My own characters include Lee Sawyer, Ramsey Gaither, Ernie, Marissa, Parker Harris and Samantha. Purely Fiction, and not for profit.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
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Captain Gregson stepped out of his car and shut the door, pulling his long gray wool coat tighter around him as the cold gust of winter enveloped him. He had parked his car in the middle of the street, siren off but the red bauble light on. Police tape blocked off travel through and around a port at the far end of the shipyards. Ducking under the tape and making his way toward the young detective, Marcus Bell, he paused to sigh under his breath as he surveyed the gruesome scene. "Any witnesses?"
Detective Bell stood just outside the large red metal container, doors ajar, and finished scribbling into his notepad the rest of his notes. He looked up as the captain approached and questioned him. "Homeless man and his daughter were sleeping inside another container" he turned and pointed to a blue container with one door open and two uniforned officers standing in front of it, comparing notes and placing evidence markers for the bullet casings they had found, "when they heard a commotion outside. Man said there were about ten men standing in front of the container," turning back and pointing to container next to him, "when an argument started. He said two of the men were loading large crates onto a plain moving truck when the argument between the two men in charge escalated. Four dead, two wounded, including the homeless man. Wounded were transported to Mercy General just before you arrived. Still waiting on the coroner, though." He looked up from his notes to find the captain staring at the container.
The container was only half of what the full sized containers were but riddled with wooden crates of all sizes, some open and some yet to be opened by police. Officers shined their flashlights into the open crates and wrote down the contents they found among the straw excels. It was still early enough in the morning that the sun had barely peaked over the watery horizon and forced the officers to use a squad car's headlights for light, in the container.
Listening to Bell and noting the neglected wooden crates loaded with guns and ammunition, Gregson was silent for a long moment. "How bad was the father hit?"
Bell scratched a spot over his right eyebrow and flipped through his notes. "He took one in the left shoulder and one in the left leg. He said he was shielding his daughter from the gunfire. Dock security heard the shots and called PD after witnessing the tail end of the exchange from his rounds."
Gregson nodded. "Daughter okay?"
"No sign of her. Her father said he lost consciousness after being hit in the leg. The last thing he heard was his daughter screaming, when he woke up, she was gone." Bell watched Gregson as he stepped closer to the inside of the contaner.
Cupping his hand over his mouth, Gregson had a sinking and sickening feeling over the safety of the missing girl. "Holmes around?"
Pointing past the container that was sitting on the dock, adjacent to the long and three-high stacked rows of containers, Bell informed his boss that Sherlock Holmes was examining the crane equipment for possible evidence left by the operator and possible member of the group moving the weapons. "The claws of the crane were still secured to the container, when we arrived. Joan went to the hospital to speak to the father and see how he's doing."
A moment later, Sherlock walked briskly and stiffly up to them and came to a stop next to Bell. Shoving his gloved hands into his jacket pockets, he rocked forward to bounce on the balls of his feet in anxious habit before settling down again. "That is the cleanest workings on a crane I have ever seen, on the shipyards. The controls have obviously been wiped down, removing the worker's fingerprints as well as those of the thieves. From there, I have found black fibres wedged into the metal framing of the seat. However, a shoeprint found on the step of the crane points to" he quickly turned around and pointed to the far end of the dock, where several officers stood and documented their own piece of the scene, "the second gate of the dock," he turned back to see the captain now standing on the other side of Bell and listening to him, "where the security guard saw a black SUV follow the box truck out of the dockyard. My guess is, they've abducted the girl and took because she and her father saw their faces or heard something she shouldn't have."
Absently placing a hand over his mouth and staring back at the container, Gregson sighed again as he thought about the new information. Removing the hand from his mouth and folding his arms, he eyed a big crate that had been broken into by the thieves and moved to sit just inside the container. "So, a crew of ten somehow knew this container would be here. What do we have on the packing slip, if there is any?" As Marcus started to run down the list of notes on the container, Gregson stepped inside and over to the crate, peering in to find it empty of anything more than packing excel.
"Front of the container held crates of weapons, some high-grade, boxes and boxes of bullets for rifles as well as semi-automatic handguns. Back of the container held crates of possible drugs. Those are gone but empty boxes of ground coffee were obvious signs narcotics were inside, CSU is testing it now. As for the packing slip or manifest from the cargo ship, guard said there was nothing to be delivered during the night and he didn't hear anything while he was making his rounds. The two injured thugs should be awake in a few hours and ready for questioning." Bell sighed and shivered as the breeze picked up and scooped in the frozen air from the sea.
Gregson nodded. "Guard see the girl? Dad give a description at all on her?"
Shaking his head, Bell flipped back in his notes. "Guard was calling for back up as they were loading the girl into the SUV. Caucasion girl, about twelve or thirteen years old, five feet tall, brown hair, blue eyes. Her name's Samantha. Father said they found an open container, waited until quitting time and then settled in."
Sherlock removed his phone from his right jacket pocket and clicked it on to see a message from Joan. "Watson says the father is out of surgery and they are moving him to a private room. Also, one of the thieves is awake and able to talk."
Gregson turned to walk back to his car. "Get him into an interrogation room and have a chat. I wanna talk to the guard, also. I'm going to meet Joan at the hospital, when the dad wakes up. Meantime, get all that you can on the weapons and what kind of drugs were dealing with. Last thing we need is pandemonium once these things hit the streets." Making it to his car door as he finished, he opened the door and sat back down, happy to get out of the cold but inwardly upset with the knowledge of heavy-duty weapons and drugs making landfall in his city. He sighed and started the engine, heading down to the far end to see what the officers and technicians at the gate had found.
~~~~~~~~~~
"What the hell is this?" A man wearing a light gray Armani suit and dark red shirt threw open his office door and made his way over to the SUV, looking shocked at the driver and passenger unloading the bound and gagged teen from the backseat. "Where's my shipment? What the hell is she doing here?" He stood in the middle of a large, mostly empty warehouse that was well lit from skylights and overhead lamps. The remaining members had started unloading the moving truck that pulled in in front of the SUV. He fumed and stared the men down as he waited for their answer.
The two men looked at each other and then down to the girl that struggled to free herself. "She saw us." The driver adjusted his grip on her arm.
Shaking his head, the boss growled under his breath and pointed to his office. "So, you bring her here?! Put her in the office." He gritted his teeth and turned to watch them as they walked past him. "And keep her quiet. Got it?" He checked his rolex and clapped his hands, gaining the attention of the four men working in the back of the truck. "Let's go! Let's go!" Checking his watch again, he was anxious to get his deal done but was in no hurry to see the young, handsome supplier leave before chatting with him. Making his way around to the back of the truck, he stared in disbelief. "This is only half the order! Where's the rest of it?"
A man from the back of the truck came to the edge and hopped down, out of the box. "Had to leave it behind. The old man called the cops." A hand reached up to absently stroke his well-shaped, brown beard as he told his boss the story of the delivery that went wrong and the two transients that got in the way. Ernie was Ramsey Gaither's second in command for his big operations, a trusted associate that Ramsey often depended on when he was called to another job. He had a good work ethic and liked getting the job done, even though it was mostly illegal.
Ramsey bit his tongue out of frustration. "I'm gonna have to tell her she only gets half her shipment?"
"We got the whole powder order, though. Maybe the supplier can make up the difference?" Ernie glanced back at the truck, seeing the crates mostly unloaded and not liking what little he saw in the pile they were placed in.
"And short another of his orders? He comes through in a squeeze but, he'll have something to say about this." Ramsey shook his head again and turned back to his office to call his partner, Marissa. "Lee's good but he ain't that good." He called back as Ernie followed him only a few steps behind.
~~~~~~~~~~
Joan stood next to the bed of the homeless man and looked over him carefully. "Mister Harris, you said you saw what happened. Do you remember anything else about last night?" Her tone was soft as she stood by his bed. The man was groggy from medication and under request to be kept calm.
Parker Harris stared at the ceiling. His mind raced with thoughts of his daughter and the unsteady events of the early morning hours. "We were sleeping and Sam heard something. The guard lets us stay there, sometimes. It was windy, last night, so we slept in the container." Running his right hand through his greasy brown hair, he paused to fight back the emotions that crept up.
"Take your time. Did you hear any names or see what they looked like?" Joan shifted, resting her hands on the railing, on the side of the bed.
Harris shook his head but continued to stare at the ceiling. "She opened the door to see. They must have heard it. They started shooting at her." Using the same hand that raked his hair to cover his eyes, he sobbed quietly. After a brief sob fit, he took a breath and continued. "She saw them. I rolled her over me as the bullets came." Removing the hand from his face, he turned to Joan and covered her hands with his. "Find my Sammy. She's all I have left. Please." He pleaded with her, brown eyes welling up with tears again.
Joan found herself speechless but nodded and tried to comfort him as best she could. "Mister Harris, I know this is hard for you. Do you have a recent photo of Samantha?"
He shook his head again. "After her mother died, I lost it. I lost my house, my job, so we grabbed what we could and came here to start over. She has a green book she keeps photos in."
Nodding, Joan pat his hand and tried to calm him down after noticing a spike in the man's blood pressure monitor. "Rest. We'll find it." She gave a faint smile as she watched him nod tiredly and close his eyes, relaxing into exhausted sleep. She turned toward the door and found Captain Gregson standing there, silently watching and listening to the tail end of the conversation. Walking over to him and guiding him around the corner, they chatted about the missing pieces.
"Both perps clammed up really quick when I asked them what they were doing on the dock at three in the morning. They looked mighty scared, too. Get anything else out of the father?" Gregson kept his hands in his pockets as they walked down the hallway. He had been standing there since the man described the photo book but didn't hear much else.
Joan walked beside him, carrying her downe coat in her arms. She had taken it off as she waited for Mister Harris to regain consciousness and hadn't put it back on when she left the room. "He says he didn't see anything. It was mainly Samantha that saw what happened and that's probably why they grabbed her. The doctor that removed the bullets noticed some bruising on his back, in the shape of a riflestock so, they must have shot at the container when they heard the door open and knocked him out and took the daughter, when they realised she was still alive." She stopped and turned to face the captain. "He mentioned she had a green photo album that might contain a picture of her. If not recent, we might be able to do a progression. I can also check on any other family members and see if they have any photos of her."
Gregson agreed. "Sounds good. We have the guard at the station. Some coffee, some warmth, he might give us what he saw."

Continued.
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Cancelled Negatives