A new case

The sound of children laughing down on the streets of London below was enough to make June's skin crawl. With a hand resting on the horizontal blinds, she opened it a little, just enough to see the children on the street running and chasing each other. Hysterical laughter echoed around the street.

It was early on a Monday morning and June only assumed that the children were on their way to school. Once they were out of sight, June sighed. Pulling her hand away from the blinds, she leant back against the wall and folded her arms across her chest.

I could have had a better childhood. She thought to herself. I could have had a better childhood. It was a possibility that haunted her for the past ten years of her life. Now at the age of 21, June could not remove the past from her mind and found it increasingly difficult to move on.

Muffled voices and footsteps were heard from the floor below and June knew that her flatmate, Katie would be downstairs preparing the café for the day's customers.

"June!" Katie called up the stairs. June closed her eyes and let out a loud sigh, evidently not ready for a nine-hour-shift. Footsteps were heard coming up the stairs and June's bedroom door swung open.

"Oh and would you believe it, you're not even changed in your uniform yet." Katie groaned as she saw her. June remained motionless. "The café is opening in five minutes."

"I'm not ready for today." June replied indifferently.

"When are you ever ready for a day's shift?" Katie asked, placing a hand on her hip. "Look if you don't want this job then say so because I'll find someone worthwhile."

"And then you'd kick me out the flat for not paying the rent."

"Well it's your choice, sweetheart."

With that, June pushed herself away from the wall, put on her apron which was hanging on the back of the door and followed Katie down to the café.

Like most days, the shift went by slowly as June walked around, serving customers and cleaning the tables of past customers. Katie worked in the kitchen baking cakes, muffins and coffee. June looked forward to the end of her shift.

"John," Sherlock Holmes called, his voice echoing through the apartment yet there was no reply. "John," He called again but still there was no reply. "Joohhnnnnn!"

Dr. John Watson came running up the stairs, looking rather flustered and irritated as he walked through the doorway. "What is it?" He spat.

"We need a new sofa. I can feel the springs." Sherlock was lying across the sofa on his back, gazing up at the ceiling in pyjamas and a dressing gown like he had been for the past few weeks.

John frowned. "What?"

"That wasn't a question, John, but merely a declarative statement. We need a new sofa."

John nodded. "Right and what are you going to do about that?"

A few seconds past before Sherlock energetically pushed himself up in sitting position and swung his legs over until his feet were on the floorboards. "Shall we go out?" He asked.

"Uhhm…"

"I take that as a yes," Sherlock jumped to his feet, strolled across the apartment to his bedroom to get changed.

"I take it you're bored." John called through the door.

"I've been bored for the past couple of weeks and you know it, John."

"I've told you time and time again to get out the apartment rather than lounging about on the sofa to the point where you break the bloody thing!"

The door swung open and Sherlock came out wearing his signature long coat and scarf. "And this is why I'm suggesting we go out. Shall we pay Lestrade a visit at Scotland Yard?"

John followed Sherlock down the stairs and out the apartment onto Baker Street. Sherlock hailed the first taxi that past and they both clambered in as the driver took them over to Scotland Yard.

"Ah, Sherlock Holmes. I was just about to call you." Greg Lestrade said as Sherlock and John walked into his office. They firmly shook hands.

"I thought I'd pay you a visit. This boredom of mine seems to exaggerate itself often."

"Well to help you out of your boredom, Sherlock, we have a case on our hands." Greg turned and sat down in his leather seat beside his desk. Sherlock and John exchanged glances before sitting in the other two chairs on the other side of the desk. Greg crossed his legs and passed a file over to Sherlock who opened it and flicked through the papers.

"She was found dead down an alleyway in Camden Town late last night. The police are down there now looking for evidence but I thought I'd get you to help out seeing as you're the one who always seems to know more about these situations." Greg's voice was almost mocking. Sherlock took in a deep breath.

"You do know she's been dead for about ten years now?" Sherlock said as he continued to scan the papers in front of him.

Greg frowned. "Sorry?"

"Judith Herbert." Sherlock looked up and nodded to the pin board behind Greg. Greg frowned and turned to face the board. "You've had that missing poster up there for years. Judith Herbert, the girl who's been accused for murdering her mother at the age of 11 and has been on the missing list for years. It's impossible for her to still be alive now. She's dead."

"But you don't know that." He muttered as he leant forward.

"Anyway, so about this case," Greg started, clearing his throat as he drew their attention back to their original subject. "What do you think of it?"

Sherlock looked at Greg blankly before leaning back into the chair. "It's a murder."

Greg raised his eyebrows. "Explain."

"I need to see the body first."

The three took a taxi up to Camden Town. Stepping over the police tape, Sherlock passed the detectives and crouched down beside the dead body of the young girl. Greg hovered over his shoulder, watching his every move as he examined the lifeless body.

Taking out a small magnifying glass, Sherlock studied her facial features, her jewellery, her fingernails and the material of her clothes before smelling them. His pulled her eyelids open and studied her vacant eyes.

"Anything?" Greg asked somewhat impatient.

Sherlock stood up slowly and dug his hands in his coat pockets. He looked at the dead body for a final time before replying sullenly. "Not much."

Greg remained silent as John followed Sherlock back out the alleyway.

"Unbelievable." Greg muttered to himself through gritted teeth, shaking his head.