The City of Fear

by DancingStar01

Eerie lights scare the people in London. Even the best detective in the world can t solve the mysterious case... Part 4 online!

1. Chapter 1

Title: The City of Fear Part 1
Author: Dancing Star
Crossover: PSI Factor / Sherlock
Pairing: Connor / Lindsay, Sherlock / Anne (OC)
Spoiler: This story takes place after the 3rd season. Oh yes: That it turned out in "His last Vow" Mary was a liar, by the way never happened in this story. Too bad, I liked her very much.
Rating: 12
Category: AU, Mystery, Romance
Content: Eerie lights scare the people in London. Even the best detective in the world can´t solve the mysterious case.
Notes: I had never dreamed that I´d ever write a Sherlock Holmes story ... :-)
London, I love you

The city of fear- Part 1

People disappeared. More and more people disappeared without a trace in London and Scotland Yard hadn´t even a trace.
Inspector Lestrade was entrusted with the investigation and because he and his unit where helpless, they asked Sherlock Holmes for help. Sherlock was gone for two years, they believed he was dead, and Sherlock was surprised that the public loved him despite the dubious reputation he had acquired, thanks to the intrigue of his enemy Jim Moriarty. Fortunately Sherlock didn´t think much about the opinion of other people and he was almost proud that Moriarty had fallen for the plan Sherlock and his brother had spun. Greg Lestrade and John Watson were still his best friends. John and Sherlock had a hard time after his return: John had once wished his best friend wouldn´t be dead then he had to learn his wish became true. They needed time to get used to each other again, but then Sherlock was best man at the wedding of John and Mary. Meanwhile, the couple was parents of a little daughter. Sherlock was now living alone in 221b Baker Street. In the basement lived his landlady, Mrs. Hudson.
Not many people mourned after his "death", but they lived their lives: Molly Hooper was engaged when he returned and meanwhile she was married to Tom.
First Sherlock noticed that all the missing people were living on the outskirts of London: Not a single one of them was living in the inner city. After Sherlock Holmes had participated in the investigation for a while, the details came to light that many residents in the outskirts of London saw strange lights in the sky in the nights, when the people had disappeared. But then Sherlock was stuck in a dead end, because all the missing persons otherwise had nothing in common: They didn´t even drink the same coffee. Also, there were no traces of forced entry at the crime scenes, which pointed to a kidnapping. There were only neighbors who reported about strange lights and of watches that suddenly had stopped for half an hour.
Because the case had stuck, Inspector Lestrade got pressure from his superiors. Sherlock Holmes had to arrive today in his office. He had no idea what Lestrade wanted to discuss with him.
"I have decided to ask for some more help," Lestrade finally said.
Sherlock sucked in a breath and replied flatly, but still hurt: "Why don´t you just ask my dear older brother if he could contact his friends in the Defense Department for you?"
"This was my first idea." The Department of Defense wasn´t smarter than themselves
"I don´t need help," Sherlock said, "I am the best consulting detective in the world..."
"Obviously we are dealing with a very mysterious and even unsolvable case for you. The People in London are afraid." Lestrade opened the door to his office and waved two men and a woman inside. "This is Professor Connor Doyle, Peter Axon and Lindsay Donner, OSIR."
"Canada," Sherlock said dryly and looked at the three people from top to bottom. Then he turned away from them and stared at Lestrade's desk.
"I don´t need help," Sherlock pointed out again.
"Is that all you can say?", Peter asked.
"I don´t need help."
"If you´re interested: We don´t need help as well", Connor said.
"I don´t need help," Sherlock said, but then he seemed to give in, "But I need an assistant. Anne is incompetent. Unfortunately John will still turn out for a while..." Anne Watson was a distant cousin of John and she usually lived in America. She had only come to England for the opportunity to work with Sherlock Holmes and learn something new. She was a police officer in New York and therefore John Watson believed she was more than suitable as his representative during his parents' time. No one, including the good Inspector Lestrade, hadn´t expected that Sherlock would have problems with her. At their first meeting, Sherlock knew everything about Anne: Anne was an only child, her mother originally came from India and her father owned a horse farm in New York State and was very wealthy. However, Anne didn´t need the New York glitterati: She was well dressed, but omitted known designers, but maybe she couldn´t afford because her salary hadn´t to be very good.
Sherlock was secretly glad they no longer shared the apartment in which he had first lived with John: Although Anne coped with his whims and she didn´t complain about his arts on the violin and she never complained about the strange experiments he did in his kitchen, Sherlock wasn´t used to live together with a woman. Anne had friends, she laughed when she was happy, she was crying when she was sad. Sherlock found it was very pleasant that she wasn´t interested in him. And he wasn´t used that somebody would leave him alone when he was bored and behaved like a kid. One morning, however, he had caught her in the shower, because he was thinking about a case and with his mind he was somewhere else and of course it felt uncomfortable for him. He developed an aversion to her idea to have dinner with her or they could go for a run in Hyde Park when he was bored, but he had refused. Anne couldn´t understand why he felt bored in London and he had replied he always felt uncomfortable if there was no interesting case. "Go out and watch the people. Play soccer or learn how to play piano, "she suggested. Once, when he no longer could stand his flat in 221b Baker Street, he followed her advice, took the subway to reach Marble Arch and wandered through the Oxford Street to Tottenham. He exposed the tourists and their countries of origin immediately. He knew everything about the people from London and within seconds he knew how these people earned their money. Not even two hours later he was bored again. He gave her another chance and so they visited some pubs on a Friday evening. Sherlock wasn´t used to alcohol, so Anne had to take him home because he was drunken and she was as well. He didn´t know exactly how and why they were ended up on his couch and even less he couldn´t understand why they had kissed. Also, he didn´t remember exactly why he had suggested going to his room so that Mrs. Hudson wouldn´t catch them naked the next morning on the couch and possibly had a heart attack when she brought him the morning tea. The alcohol was to blame, he was sure. This night complicated his work with Anne, but Lestrade and Anne's cousin John Watson didn´t need to know.
"They are scientists, just like you," Lestrade said to Sherlock, "I thought you´d like that: Finally you meet someone who can withstand your intellect... Give them a chance, because you can´t solve this case, I feel it."
"You're wrong."
"They will help you in this investigation," Lestrade added, but he knew he couldn´t threaten him.
"Or else?", Sherlock's eyes flashed.
"Otherwise you´re dismissed from the cases of Scotland Yard. For now and all time. I don´t care what price I have to pay…"
Sherlock seemed to think for a second. Then he rose from the chair where he had sat and looked at the three employees of the OSIR again. "We´ll meet at 15:00 o´clock in my flat: 221b Baker Street," Sherlock said and left.
When they were alone, Connor, Lindsay and Peter breathed a sigh of relief. "That was easy," Connor finally said to Inspector Lestrade.
"This is Sherlock Holmes," the inspector noted, "That was almost too easy."

Connor, Lindsay and Peter left their hotel to arrive at Baker Street in time. The fastest way of transport in London was the Metro: Buses and taxis usually needed too long through the city traffic.
First they got off at Oxford Circus and as Peter noted neither the Oxford Circus nor Piccadilly Circus had something to do with a real circus. "I have told you," Lindsay said, when they re- entered the stairs to the subway and took the Bakerloo Line. When they got out at Baker Street, they mistakenly walked to the left, instead of to the right and that's why they reached the house with the number 221b about five minutes late.
They knocked and the landlady Mrs. Hudson opened the door. "I suppose you want to see Sherlock Holmes," she said, "He is currently looking for his cigarette emergency supply, but he is right there for you." Mrs. Hudson put the emergency stock secretly in another hiding place. "I secretly hid it in a box in the fireplace," she whispered proudly. The old lady led them up the stairway into Sherlock's apartment.
It was ruled by big mess. Apparently, the Master Detective really was searching for his cigarettes. "Where are my cigarettes?", Sherlock asked impatiently as he walked past them and almost crashed against Lindsay.
"I don´t know," Lindsay replied and Sherlock looked at her for a second.
"I know that you know it," he said, "Your trembling upper lip tells me. Your hands are sweating. Only Mrs. Hudson knows how to hide my cigarettes. You have talked to her", he concluded," So, where is it?"
"I don´t know. I already said that."
"I tell you the winning lottery numbers for next week, if you tell me where my cigarettes are."
Lindsay seemed to think about it for a second.
"I wouldn´t to that," a pretty woman with long black hair said. Although it was Mrs. Hudson's task, she had brought a tray with cups and a pot of tea for the guests. "Sherlock has already offered this to me. But it didn´t work", as she said it, she looked at him with challenging shining eyes," Only four numbers were right. This brought me two hundred pounds... and fourteen other people in the UK, too..." Then the woman smiled and held out her hand towards them. "I'm Anne Watson, Sherlock Holmes' current assistant."
Peter immediately noticed how pretty Anne was.
"My advice to you was worth two hundred pounds," Sherlock repeated, "Better than nothing."
"And this is just coming out of your mouth," Anne looked at him and left the room with the empty tray.
All of a sudden Sherlock Holmes seemed to turn into a different person. "Well then," he said, "Then let´s focus on our case... What makes you to travel to England because of some lights?"
Connor´s answer was quite simple: "We are investigating the paranormal world. If we hadn´t come to England because of some lights, there would be another reason sooner or later."
"I've never heard about the OSIR before...", Sherlock confessed, "Are you a subdivision of MUFON?"
"But you have heard of them...," Peter said.
"Maybe. You said you investigate paranormal phenomena. I assume that you classify the strange lights, which have been spotted over the city and the missing people in the UFO category."
"That's right. A very good observation, Mr. Holmes."
"Thank you."
Anne, still rummaging in the kitchen, smiled when she heard, how Sherlock Holmes actually thanked the people who had received the order to support him from Lestrade. He ever used the words "thank you" so it was worth to be celebrated.
"We shouldn´t waste time," Sherlock finally suggested,, "Two days ago, a man named Liam Stone disappeared. He's different than the other people... "
Connor, Lindsay and Peter assumed he would tell them what was so special about Liam Stone and Sherlock did: "Liam Stone was a defrauder. He has already been in prison because of online fraud. "
"Are you sure his disappearance has something to do with our case?," Peter asked, "This man had a good reason to disappear..."
"On the night in which he disappeared, neighbors have seen strange lights in the sky and it wasn´t a plane. This has been confirmed by the Royal Air Force." In his mind he added the Air Force also made sure it wasn´t a hot air balloon or a weather phenomenon.
"What will you do now?", Connor asked when he saw how Sherlock grabbed his long black coat and put it on. It was cold outside, because there were only a few days left until Christmas.
"We´ll visit the wife of Liam Stone," Sherlock suggested. Then he turned around and left his apartment without a word. "Is he always so strange?", Lindsay wanted to know from Anne and she nodded. Anne even smiled a little, and she grabbed her jacket and slipped inside. They left a notice for Mrs. Hudson and then also left the apartment.
"He´s crazy," Peter grumbled on the way out. He had no idea that Sherlock was waiting for them in black taxi, and of course he had heard what Peter had said.
"This is not the case. I would describe myself as a highly functional sociopath."
"You should make therapy," Peter suggested.
"I tried," Sherlock replied, "The therapist couldn´t take with me." That's why he had completed therapy after one session.
"So, I really don´t want to meet him in the dark," Connor whispered and Lindsay giggled before they got into the taxi.

Because they were stuck in a traffic jam, they almost needed an hour.
The wife of Liam Stone, Lara, didn´t seem to be very excited about the unannounced visit. The reason for this was a very chaotic home, as it turned out, after Sherlock had entered the house. Apparently Lara Stone was ashamed she no longer could control her life since disappearance of her husband a few days ago: In the kitchen, some pizza boxes piled on the table and Sherlock concluded she no longer lived particularly healthy.
On the couch dirty clothes were lying next to a basket of fresh clothes. On the carpet there was a black spot, which was still wet and smelled strongly of houseplants earth. The curtain was torn and small wallpaper scraps were on the floor.
With a magnifying glass, Sherlock investigated the wallpaper in detail. Suddenly Lindsay appeared beside him.
"These tracks are from a cat," Lindsay suspected, but she was pretty sure she was right.
"The couple didn´t own a cat," Sherlock objected.
"How do...? But there are scratching marks... "
"In the kitchen, there are three food cans. That's enough for three more days. I conclude the couple doesn´t own a cat, but they only care about the animal while the actual owner is away from home..."
"They might just have to go shopping again ...", Connor said.
"I don´t think so," Sherlock continued, "In the wallpaper behind the couch, there are also traces of red nail polish. I don´t think a cat is wearing nail polish."
"But..."
"The nail polish is called Midnight Passion. Probably a more expensive product ..."
"How do you know all this...?", Lindsay wondered why he knew so much about cosmetic products.
"Mrs. Stone doesn´t wear nail polish although the place looks very expensive and is only equipped with the best. He probably gave his lover an expensive nail polish."
"I'll go and search the bathroom," Peter promised. As he did so, Sherlock talked to Mrs. Stone. If he spoke to her too tartly, Anne shook her head (but he was right: The cat belonged to a neighbor). Mrs. Stone was crying bitterly, when Sherlock told her about her husband's affair and she told him she had no idea. Nor did she know where her husband was now.
Sherlock didn´t like it, but Mrs. Stone said the truth: She had nothing to do with the disappearance of her husband.

When they left the house of Mrs. Stone, they met Peter at the front door.
"I made a full search of the bathroom," he reported, "There is no red nail polish called Midnight Passion."
"This affair could be a motive for Liam Stone to disappear."
Anne answered a short phone call when her cell phone rang and therefor she left the group.
"That was Lestrade," Anne informed them, when she returned, "He says Liam Stone and a man named Max Cartwright have resurfaced." Max Cartwright disappeared like many other people in the outer parts of the city.
"An angler has found the two men near a river," Anne added.
"Where are they now?", Connor asked.
"At the hospital in Paddington."

They drove to the hospital. Because Liam Stone was a former cheater, the police kept him particularly well in mind. Connor, Lindsay, Peter and Anne showed their IDs to the policeman who guarded the room and they were allowed to enter. When Sherlock also wanted to enter the room, the gall, heavy man stood in his way.
"All right," Connor said to the man, "He belongs to us."
The policeman hesitated, but then he stepped aside.
In the room was silence. Apparently Liam Stone and Max Cartwright were very exhausted, because each of them hung on an electrolyte solution. None of them had to be supplied with life-sustaining measures. "And now?," Anne asked.
At this moment, Liam Stone opened his eyes. "Where...? Where am I?", he asked. When he saw the bright light above his head, he was troubled. Anne and Lindsay had to calm him immediately.
"It's all right," Lindsay said, "You are in a hospital in London."
The man seemed relieved.
"Mr. Stone, do you may remember something that happened in the last few days?", Peter asked.
"No, I... I can only remember vague shapes and... I remember I sometimes felt pain..."
"What kind of pain?"
"I don´t remember exactly..."
"Can you remember what happened during your abduction?"
"No." When Liam Stone said this, Sherlock went to the door.
"What are you doing?", Connor asked.
"I´m not going to listen to this any longer", Sherlock now turned around to the man in the hospital bed, "I'm assuming this is all a hoax, you've staged so you can steal away with your lover."
"You know about Libby?", Liam Stone asked stunned.
"Yes, and your wife now also knows about her… I found red nail polish on the wall behind the couch. Your wife doesn´t wear nail polish..", Sherlock added.
"You don´t want to know how that nail polish came there."
"I already know."
Connor asked the man if it would be OK when they subjected him to a hypnosis session. Maybe that helped his memory to come back. When Stone agreed, he winced under screaming headache.
"What's going on?", Lindsay asked worried.
Liam Stone clutched at his head and when he drew back his hand, he had a tuft of his blond hair in his hand. He screamed. He didn´t know if he did it because of fear or because of the fact that the headaches became worse from second to second. Lindsay pressed the emergency button beside the bed. It took less than twenty seconds until a medical team rushed in.
The doctors sent them away when the headache of Liam Stone almost peaked. And there was nothing more to do for them, so they left the hospital and went home.

It was three o´clock in the morning when there was a knock on the wooden door of 221b Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson didn´t respond to the morning visit, so Sherlock was forced after the tenth knocking to answer the door. He wanted to receive the visit with the grumpiest mood as possible and ask who dared to disturb his thoughts on this important case, but when he saw Connor, Lindsay and Peter, he didn´t. "What's wrong?"
"I hope we didn´t wake you," Peter said, "It's about Stone and Cartwright. The hospital called: They are dead!"

On the way to Paddington they picked up Anne at her small apartment. Then they took a taxi to St. Bartholomew's Hospital and there they met Molly Hooper, who showed them the bodies of the two men. "I'm sorry I haven´t started the autopsy yet," she apologized and Connor responded in surprise: "The men have died two hours ago. How could you have managed that?"
"So...", Molly hesitated and looked at Sherlock. Molly was in love with Sherlock before she met her husband Tom, but he never took her and her feelings seriously. She knew it was different with his assistant Anne. It was the way Sherlock looked at Anne...
"Oh," Connor looked at Sherlock, too, but his voice was reproachful, "Your Majesty likes rapidly performed autopsies. You are accustomed to pressurize other human beings..."
They focused on the lifeless bodies lying on the examination table in front of them. "The nurses say both died at the same time," Molly informed them.
"At the same time?", Sherlock repeated, "How is that possible?"
"I don´t know," admitted Molly.
"Both men disappeared in the same mysterious manner. Both men appeared a few days later again and both complain of headaches and hair loss and then they die in the same minute, "Lindsay said when she read the Death certificate of Stone and Cartwright. The time of death was 02:01 o´clock. In Cartwright's medical record was also noted he also suffered from severe headaches before his death.
"Maybe the nurse made a mistake," Peter suggested. He circled once the table, on which the body of Max Cartwright lay.
"What are these strange wounds on his chest?", he asked. Also on Liam Stone's chest, there was the same burn marks.
"I don´t know yet," Molly admitted, "Maybe I can tell you, when I examined him. But that will take a few hours..."
They left their phone numbers so she could call one of them, when she had finished her work.
They went up to the hospital to talk to the nurse again, who had been on the ward in the past night. "Are you sure the time of death was 02:01 clock for both men?", Connor asked quietly. He knew she wasn´t the first person, who had made a mistake.
"I'm pretty sure," the young woman replied, "The two men were the strangest patients I have ever seen."
"We have seen the corpse of Cartwright and Stone," Connor said to her, "They had quite severe burns on the chest. Which doctor has treated this wounds?"
"Well, there was no reason to treat the burns...", the nurse said Connor and his brow furrowed: "What do you mean?"
"Liam Stone and this other man..."
"Max Cartwright?"
"Yes, exactly. That's his name… Both had burn marks on their bodies when they were brought here", the woman recalled. "The mysterious thing was that these wounds were gone a few hours later without a trace, when the head doctor came to visit... "
"Where do you keep the clothes of the men?," Anne asked and Connor thought that was a good idea. He didn´t understand why Sherlock believed she was an incompetent assistant.
"I'll get it for you." The nurse left and returned a little later with two bags in which clothes were packed. They didn´t even have to unpack to see that the fabric was provided with holes, which were arranged in a particular pattern.
"I don´t know a weapon that can do such a thing," Sherlock Holmes said and Connor was relieved to hear that. The case was still strange and even Sherlock couldn´t put the puzzle pieces together.
"Glad to hear this from you... We will take the T-shirts and examine it more closely in the laboratory."

To be continued...