SHERLOCK 221b: blood

"How did she die? Forensics couldn't find anything in her system to suggest poison, and there are no defensive wounds on her body. She was completely healthy we couldn't find any cause of death…" LeStrade paced the floor back and forth, his hand rubbing the stubble on his chin. "It's as if she just dropped dead!"

Sherlock pulled on the white latex gloves slowly, letting them snap against his wrists, a thoughtful smile playing on his lips. John was watching, a slight frown lining his otherwise young face. He opened his mouth and then closed it before opening it again. However before he could speak Sherlock answered the unasked question with an exasperated sigh, "I know, I know! The girl in there was a human being and should be treated like one, but I LOVE the hard cases, the smart killers, I'm always up for a challenge!" He answered excitement in his voice and eyes.

"Brilliant," muttered John, "but bloody annoying as hell…" He made sure Sherlock was well ahead of him before uttering these words, and quite carful to whisper, yet Sherlock's ghostly laugh drifted down from the second floor, and John froze. Either Sherlock had unbelievable hearing or he was a mind reader. (John suspected the later). "Science of deduction my ass…"

"John, hurry there's blood!"