An odd little 221B from John's POV.
Disclaimer: Not mine, as usual, and no profit made.
Animosity.
Beyond all doubt that was the all-encompassing emotion here.
Climbing over the body, Sherlock didn't notice it, but I did.
"Don't deduce too loudly" I murmured. "Crowd looks angry."
"Everyone gets angry at me, why should they be different?"
"For God's sake…"
"Get me an evidence bag." He interrupted, bending over the body.
"Here."
Into it he placed a small piece of greenery from her neck.
"John, do you know what this is?" He held the bag up for me to see.
"Kale? Or something similar?"
"Lettuce." He grinned. "We're looking for…."
"Man with a salad fetish?"
"No, a greengrocer."
"Or an allotment owner."
"Possible John," he glanced around. "In fact, given the area it's more than possible."
"Quiet!" I held a hand up to silence him. "Did you hear the echoes of flying pigs?"
"Really John, you are often right." Sherlock huffed.
"Surprised that you'd admit it." I grinned.
"To no-one else though." He smiled back, and then motioned Lestrade to join us.
"Under the body you'll find evidence of vegetation and compost."
"Vegetation? Our killer's a gardener?"
"While you're at it Lestrade, check for blunt trauma."
"Xray should do it." I added, trying to soften the effect of Sherlock's abrasive tone.
"Yeah, right." Lestrade made a few notes. "Anything else for me?"
"Zilch." Sherlock shrugged, turning his back.