They rushed together to the newest crime scene. Sherlock flying up the stairs with John running behind. He couldn't even enter the room properly before Sherlock started his deduction.

‚No... no... no', Sherlock mumbled franticaly ‚this isn't right. It wasn't an accident. Can't be...'

John took one good look at the victim - a young woman about twenty-six, according to Sherlock murdered in her own flat – and decided there wasn't much he could do to assist.

He leaned back against the nearest wall, next to Sgt. Donovan.

They kept watching Sherlock's deduction for a while. He was looking behind curtains, under the bed, on the ceiling, trying to cut the couch open...

‚I went fishing last weekend', he told her nonchalantly without taking his eyes off the crime scene and Sherlock.

‚Really?', she asked surprised ‚how did it go?'

‚Nice, he replied, still not looking at her, ‚really nice. It was quiet... in the beginning at least.'

He turned to face her before continuing.

‚They found a dead body a few hours after my arrival, said he fell of his boat, hit his head on the railing and drowned. The police thought it was an accident. I don't know why but something sounded fishy about the whole story.'

He paused for a moment while Sherlock and Lesterade shouted at one another.

‚I had a look around there myself, asked some questions... turns out he had a high insurance in case he died and a brother with a lot of debts. So... the brother invited him and some friends to a fishing trip. He waited 'till his brother was alone than sneaked up on him and hit him with the butt of a fishing knife hard on the head, threw him over board and sneaked back to the others. No one noticed he was missing at first. When they did, they couldn't tell who was where at the estimated time of death.'

John turned back to Sherlock and Anderson, who discussed currently whether Sherlock was allowed to set a piece of evidence on fire or not. They had already established that no, he was not allowed to set the whole body on fire.

‚The brother forgot to get rid of the knife.'John continued ‚I told the police. They found the murder weapon, still with a lot of blood on it and arrested him.'

Smiling faintly he looked back at Sally, her mouth was hanging open, trying to decide whether John was taking the piss. He didn't looked amused and too honest to make such a story up.

‚I don't think I enjoy fishing. I didn't catch anything, well... except for a murderer, that is. Might try something else tho, it was nice having an evening for myself.'

Sherlock, not been allowed to set anything on fire, stomped out of the door.

‚Well', John said, turning to leave ‚looks like I got to go. See you around.'

Flabbergasted Sgt Donovan stared the two man depart. ‚Try playing golf next time', she called after him, just before they walked out the front door.

tbc...