A/N: Hi! This is my first story on this website, I hope you enjoy it. Any reviews would be highly appreciated. :) I'm from Germany so English is not my native language - if you notice any grammatical errors, please let me know and I'll try to fix them as soon as possible.


The clouds hung low over London, and the sun was not yet strong enough to heat up the air - exactly the weather he preferred. Or would have preferred, if it wasn't for the pouring rain, that is. With a sigh, Sherlock Holmes turned up his collar, got out of the cab and hurried towards the building. Azure Jay Hospital, said a sign next to the door. It was one of those private mental health wards that had seemingly popped out of nowhere in the whole city recently. When he walked towards the counter, a man with grey-blond hair called for him out of the hallway to his left: "Sherlock, we're over here! He's with us," he added to the receptionist, who nodded and continued to type on his keyboard.

Sherlock Holmes walked towards the other man, saving himself the unnecessary greeting by directly asking: "Well, Lestrade, what have you got for me today?"

"A woman, she's dead," the DI answered.

"Oh really, I never would have guessed," said Sherlock while he followed Lestrade through the open door into one of the patients' rooms. The DI snorted, while Sherlock took a look around the room. Bed, armchair, small shelf and a telly, nothing too fancy. The dead woman was sitting in the armchair as if she was just taking a nap, still in her pyjamas. The whole room was filled with policemen.

Sherlock turned around to Lestrade. "I need everybody gone while I take a look at her."

"Alright," the DI muttered, then raising his voice continued: "Okay guys, everyone out for a minute."

When the idiots were finally gone, Sherlock rushed towards the woman to examine her. He didn't have long though before he heard loud voices in the corridor and the door was teared open. "Now le-let me through, I n-need to see her!," a woman exclaimed, while the DI tried to block her view on the dead body. "Miss, this is a murder scene, you can't just walk in here…"

"Just let her have a look at her sister, Graham," Sherlock interfered while he got up from the floor on which he had kneeled. "I have seen everything I need."

"Sister? And my name is Greg!," the DI said to Sherlock, but then he took a step back to let the woman through the door. When she saw her dead sister she froze and tears filled up her eyes immediately. "Oh Melody…"

Ignoring her, Sherlock started to explain his deductions to Lestrade: "She's been having an affair. Her lover came to see her this morning, he killed her. Some kind of poison, gave her an injection in her back. You can clearly-"

"An affair?," the woman asked, getting out of her trance. "She- she hasn't had a boy- a boyfriend in years."

"Yes, an affair, to a married man - that's while she kept it a secret, obviously."

"But there weren't any visitors allowed this early in the morning," Lestrade remarked.

"Even if there were, do you think the killer would be stupid enough to walk right past the front desk after murdering someone? Just do me a favour and think before you speak. Look at her pyjama bottoms, all wet and dirty at the seam. It's not very hard to climb out of the window when you live at the first floor to meet a secret lover. He gave her the injection, then carried her back in, hoping no one would notice for a while that this woman in her armchair isn't just sleeping, but dead. Find out what the poison is, this will lead us straight to her murderer. He is a tall man, wealthy, and lives in London. You'll probably find shoe prints outside, if you just hurry up a little so the rain won't wash them away, and his DNA all over her body. He clearly didn't plan this murder very precisely, or else he is just stupid. You'll find the victim's phone on him."

After he finished, Sherlock walked out of the room, leaving the speechless DI, the woman, and her dead sister behind.


It was a relief to finally leave the building and step out into the cold morning air. Being there had brought back memories that he'd rather have forgotten all about. He could still see it as if it were only yesterday that Mycroft had found him after another overdose, and decided it was time to get some "proper help." Not that Sherlock would have cared, anyway. Nothing had really mattered at that time.

Sherlock was so lost in his thoughts that it took him a while to register someone behind him was calling his name. He turned around and saw the victim's sister coming up to him. "Mr Holmes," she said, "how did, um, I, I mean, could you explain to me wh-what happened to my sister, please? The p-police isn't very helpful."

"No, they hardly ever are…" Sherlock smiled. "Do you mind if we just pop into this kiosk over there? Not really a fan of standing around in the rain, and you should probably eat something."

"S-sure."

They crossed the street and took a seat in the small restaurant, where Sherlock ordered a cooked breakfast for the woman.

"W-why don't you eat something, t-too?," she asked

"Not now. But you look as if you haven't eaten anything in days."

"Well, s-so do you."

Sherlock saw that they weren't getting anywhere, so he decided to drop being nice now. He had better things to do than to care about this woman, anyway. It hadn't really done him any good the last time he decided to go into that kind of thing, had it?

"You wanted to know how I knew about your sister's affair. There wasn't any boyfriend in the pictures on her wall, only you and her mother, but then she had a box of chocolates in one of her drawers - not the kind a family member would give you. Also, there was her jewelry, obviously. In her room there wasn't much else of any value, and since she is in a hospital, where would she get the money from to buy herself brand new earrings and a necklace? So a lover it is. Since the security at that place is basically a joke, it couldn't have been very hard to sneak out every now and again to meet someone. Now on to the slightly more interesting part: Why did she have to die? To answer this, one should first wonder why they would have kept their relationship a secret in the first place. Because she knew her family wouldn't approve of it? Not very likely, considering that she already was in a mental health clinic and most people probably thought the worst of her already. So he wanted to keep it a secret then, maybe because he didn't want to be seen spending time with someone who could damage his reputation, maybe because he is married man. And what started out as a thrilling affair that would save him from his normal boring life, now suddenly began to threaten his very identity. They had an argument yesterday night. Maybe she said she'd tell his wife about the affair, but we can't know that for sure. Afterwards, she removed the jewelry because she was angry at him. She cried all night, which was clear from her red eyes. He came back this morning to finish the matter once and for all. Any questions?"

She just stared at him for a couple of seconds. "Well, t-t-that w-was…"

"Brilliant?," he suggested. "Well, it has been a great pleasure to meet you and enlighten you on such obvious events, but I'm afraid I have to go now, as there are far more important things to do."

And for the second time that morning, Sherlock Holmes just walked out of the room, telling himself that he didn't care about any of it.