Sherlock bounded down the stairs, bright and early. His steps lead to the kitchen where Joan had her back to him. The clink of metal on ceramic detonated that she was mixing her morning coffee.
"I suggest a to-go cup, Watson," Sherlock waved his phone. "We've got a homicide to investigate."
Joan grabbed a cup from one of the cabinets, "I thought we were wrapping up the Corinne Reed case today."
"Murderers don't exactly work around our schedule." Sherlock wrapped his plaid scarf around his neck and shrugged on his jacket. "That case is all but done anyways, our help is not needed."
"Fine," Joan struggled with her coat as she held her cup in her left hand.
"Do try and keep up," Sherlock was already out the door.
.:Elementary:.
The duo arrived at a crime scene soon after thanks to the modern-day miracle of the subway. They were walking down the hall of the apartment walk-up.
Sherlock made note of their surroundings quickly, "An apartment building with a view of Central Park."
"Do you think they were killed for money?" Watson guessed the most likely motive.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet."
They arrived at the open door of the apartment where an officer was standing guard. With a quick nod of politeness and recognition they were let through the yellow tape and into the apartment.
Captain Gregson turned the corner into the entrance hall of the apartment, "We've got one victim, female, in her late twenties. Looks like blunt force trauma to the head."
"Looks?" Joan asked in confusion.
"You'll see what I mean," Gregson lead them to a bedroom in the back of the apartment.
Inside was a basic room: bed, nightstand, various trinkets and accessories for decoration. Curiously, there were various stuffed animals sitting on the bed. The most noticeable bit was the red stains all around the room, and it wasn't paint. On the floor was the woman Gregson mentioned: short black hair, medium build, roughly average height, wide brown eyes, Caucasian. She was all but covered in blood and various wounds visible on every piece of untainted skin. It was hard to discern exactly what wound could have ended her life above all others, even with the highly noticeable blow to the head.
"Now I see what you mean," Joan sucked in a deep breath to stable herself.
Sherlock gestured to the body and pointed a look towards his black-haired companion.
"Uh…" Joan stepped closer and bent down to get a closer look at the body. "The blow to the head isn't deep enough to kill instantly, only disorient." She shifted her position to look at the other scattered wounds. "No major arteries were cut. That was either luck or deliberate." She pointed at spots on the victim's forearms. "These were fairly new, the bruises didn't form yet. All of these injuries were inflicted very close to death."
Sherlock nodded and took over from there. He approached the closet doors. "This blood spatter, it's cut off. The door was open." With gloved hands, he pulled the door open. Inside was more blood on the clothes. He bent down and grabbed an out of place item from the floor of the closet. Holmes held up a teddy bear with blood spattered across its front, a small section was completely clear of blood, where it clearly should have been. "Why would a stuffed animal be in the closet of a grown woman who clearly has no shame in showcasing such toys?"
"It could've just been put there because there was no more room elsewhere," Watson proposed.
Holmes put his nose to the back of the toy, "Baby powder." The ex-addict stopped in thought for a second before turning his attention to Gregson, "Have you searched the rest of the apartment yet?"
"No, we got here only a couple minutes before you did."
Sherlock stood up and pushed his way through the doorway of the bedroom and started searching through the hallways eagerly. The first door he opened was a bathroom. The second, an extension to the kitchen. The third, another bedroom. This one had a small bed and crayon drawings taped to the walls.
"Was a child here when you arrived?" Sherlock called down the hallway where Gregson and Watson were trying to catch up, both physically and mentally.
"No," Gregson looked into the bedroom Sherlock searched so heartily for.
"Now we have one to look for. Not only might the child be kidnapped, but also a witness to murder," Sherlock spoke evenly.
A/N: This idea wouldn't leave me alone. I'm probably going to be writing it whether you people want to see it or not, so yeah. The Corinne Reed case is also completly made up. Have a nice day.
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