Wholock  cont.

"Sherlock," the voice on the phone sounded tired.
"Lestrade." He replied.
"I've got a man here who fits your description of being witness to our missing murder victim."
"We're on our way-"
"A moment." Lestrade interrupted. "It appears he doesn't speak English."
"That's fine I know a dozen languages." He replied, hailing a cab.
"Or and language we can think of." The police inspector sighed. "He understands English enough though."
"What's wrong?" John asked, seeing his friend's face.
"Nothing... Hopefully." Sherlock said, ending the call.

"So, he's mute?" John said.
Sherlock and Lestrade glanced at the man in the interrogation room. The man had dark, slightly wavy hair which was starting to look as though it needed to be cut. He was wearing a jacket and was wrapped in a thick blanket. Still, he shivered slightly.
"Is he ill?" John asked.
"I dunno... He keeps making motions that he's cold." Lestrade shrugged. "He looks healthy to me."
"I'll go see if I can tell anything." He entered the interrogation room.
Sherlock stared through the window. The police inspector looked at him and looked through the window as well.
"I've never seen you at such a loss for words." Lestrade said looking back at Sherlock. "Are you getting anything off him?"
"Nothing that makes sense yet." Sherlock replied. "You're getting better at this."
"Nah I'm just good at reading you."

"Hello." John said, as he sat down.
The man smiled brightly.
"I'm John. Have you got a name?"
The man moved his hands, showing a detailed scratching on the table.  He moved over to get a good look at it.
"Lestrade's not going to like that." John muttered. "That's a very good dragon. What did you use to scratch it out?"
He then noticed the flames the dragon was spitting had letters in them.
"Ell... Ellio Elliot. You're name is Elliot?"
The man nodded enthusiastically.
"Elliot what?"
With a swift movement, Elliot scratched 'the' on the table with his fingernail. He then drew a line pointing at the dragon. John stared. He carefully took Elliot's hand and inspected his nails. They looked normal.
"So, you're Elliot the dragon?" He asked.
Elliot nodded.
"Ask him about the murder." Sherlock said, sticking his head in.
"Why don't you ask him?" John asked.
"He seems to like you."
Elliot made motions for him to sit. He then turned to the window and motioned for pen and paper. Sherlock came in and warily sat down. Lestrade entered with paper, muttering about a circus.
"So, the murder." John started. "You saw something?"
To John's amazement, the man's expression clearly said; I was there. A second after the expression registered, Elliot bent over a paper and began sketching.
"He was there." The words spilt out of John's mouth.
"How do you know that?" Lestrade asked.
"Tell him Sherlock," he said turning back to their witness.
"Tell him what?" The detective asked, watching his friend with interest.
"You... You didn't see that written all over his face?" John asked confused. "It was as clear as day!"
Elliot grabbed a paper and quickly scribbled something on it. He pushed it at them and went back to sketching. Sherlock picked it up and looked at it curiously.
"What is it?" Lestrade asked.
"It appears to be some sort of symbolic language..."
"Let me see." John snatched the paper from him. "This is ridiculous. You seriously can't read this?"
They both looked at him blankly.
"Ok. Look, this is obviously a heart and with a stretch of imagination, this could be a brain." He pointed at the shapes. "The J by the heart is me and the S by the brain is-"
"Me." Sherlock nodded. "And he means I'm smart and you're nice?"
"Kinda. He means you base everything on intellect and I go off emotions." John said, surprised that actually occurred to him.
Elliot snapped his fingers and pointed at John.
"So, John is perfectly able to read him but you in your ultimate wisdom can't?" Lestrade said in awe. "I never thought I'd see the day! You're not putting me on are you?"
Elliot pushed the finished sketch at them. The murder victim was standing with Elliot and there was a shadowy well dressed figure pointing a gun at them. The details on the murderer were fuzzy except for the ring on his right hand. The design was intricate, but a black spade was clearly visible. While Sherlock and Lestrade examined the picture, Elliot slid a folded piece of paper to John.
"Ok," Lestrade said. "We can work with this. You're free to go Elliot. Just leave your contact information."

"John, what did Elliot give you?" Sherlock asked as they walked back towards 221b.
"Oh I almost forgot." He pulled out the folded paper. "It's another picture."
"Let me see." Sherlock took the paper.
The paper depicted  the murder victim after he had been shot. There was a flat line above the still body. Part of which was circled and a line pointed to a heart line below the body. The beats depicted were small and far apart.
"John, I think I know what this means." He said.
"And that would be?" John prompted.
"Our murder victim is still alive." Sherlock said.
At that moment they looked up. To their surprise, Elliot was standing about a block away, leaning against the tall blue box. For the first time, John noticed that the box was marked police. Sherlock stared at him, trying to understand how he had moved the box from the park. In fact, he was wondering if it was indeed the same box. Elliot smiled and beckoned them over. John walked over, towing a reluctant Sherlock.
"Elliot, what's going on?" John asked, lifting the paper.
"A rescue mission, that's what." A voice behind them said.
All three turned to see the newcomer. A young man with a slightly comical bow tie and a mop of dark hair was standing there.
"Hello. I'm the Doctor."