Chapter 1
Three of a Kind
Sherlock and John quickly made their way down the south bank towards the yellow tape that sectioned off a part of the street indicating a crime scene. While they were walking with an above average speed they were not walking with urgency. It was Sherlock who was forcing John to walk faster than normal, he wanted to make it to the crime scene as quickly as possible so that he could announce his intelligence once again in front of Lestrade. He found the sight of Lestrade angry, from his lack of observation, most appealing. Proving people wrong and expressing his superiority was something Sherlock lived for, normal people just amused him, he could not fathom a reason why they live the way they do. Their constant use of emotions and trying to please others is just illogical. While he found them quite idiotic he loved picking them apart, being able to tell everything about them in a single look, he found it a minimal challenge that exercised his immense brain power.
As the two reached the border of the crime scene tape, Sherlock was smiling to himself, realizing this he dropped his facial muscles to his serious and normal straight face. It was an expression his facial muscles were use to and melted into with ease. When the officer saw Sherlock Holmes and John Watson he quickly elevated the bright yellow tape to let them pass with ease. Sherlock expected this from the man and therefore gave him no acknowledgment John thanked him as he passed, by the man, though. It was always surprising to Sherlock how sincere John was, he honestly thought the officer lifting the tape was nice and that it deserved a thank you. To Sherlock, John was what the average human wanted to be, nice and sincere, someone who truly cared for the well being of others. Although Sherlock was surprised by John he did not show on his face that he was.
John and Sherlock walked up to a dark olive green door, that was ajar, leaving the inside open to the elements. This bothered Sherlock, he preferred his crime scenes as original as possible. He only hoped that Lestrade didn't let the forensics team have their way around the body. He walked down the the hall with four strides that his long legs did with little effort as he reached the entry way of the flat he new exactly what had happened, why it happened and how to find the person who did it. He quickly stored the needed information away in his mind palace, for future reference. He walked further in and looked down to see the body of a woman that was the most recent victim of a series of murders over the London area. Lestrade was dumbstruck by the third victim in, he had no idea what the victims had in common, the only reason he speculated they were committed by the same person was the time between them, six days, every time, it was to much to be a coincidence. He called Sherlock into the case around the fourth victim hoping that he could shed some light on the events.
"So have the photos and write ups from the other crime scenes helped you at all? Do you think you can tell me anything that could help the division solve the case?" Lestrade asked not looking up at Sherlock, hoping to be able to see something that would cause Sherlock's presence here unneeded.
"Lestrade, I would believe that you would know me well enough by now that you would realize I in fact have all the needed information to piece everything together and be able to catch the man doing this. I can already tell you why this man is doing it and why he went after all the victims he did." Sherlock replied with a condescending tone in his voice, the amount of distaste he had for the obvious was quite abundant in the way he spoke to others.
"Well Sherlock why don't you enlighten us on what you see, and who this bloke is?" John said in a manner that told people in the room that he was comfortable with Sherlock and that Sherlock's tones didn't phase him.
"John, I can't simply tell you what I see, I have to explain to you what I see; but first I want to know what you see." Sherlock said finally looking at someone while he spoke to them, he wanted to see John as he thought. He found the way John came to conclusions most interesting, it was one of the reasons he loved keeping him around.
"Well I see a woman, with six lacerations on her upper torso. I also see that while her home is very neat, her clothing is dirty and wrinkled." Said John looking around the small living space of the flat, he looked back at Sherlock waiting for his response, and for a split instance he swore he saw an emotion flash behind his eyes, something that was quite a rare occurrence in Sherlock.
"You are getting much better, John, but there are things you missed." Sherlock said looking back to the room, "She, the other victims, and the killer all have something in common, that's why he is killing them. Look around the room, what do you see, what I see tells me everything about this woman and the killer. There's three rubber bands holding up her hair, there's three chairs, three lamps, three tables, three, three, three. The only thing that there is not three of are the things the killer left behind, the six lacerations on her body, and the six pieces of paper and the six pens. They have obsessive compulsive disorder, an anxiety disorder characterized by recurrent and persistent thoughts and feelings and repetitive, ritualized behaviors. The other victims have the same OCD as this woman, threes, all five of the women killed so far have had an obsessive compulsive disorder towards threes."
"Amazing, bloody brilliant." John stated while the new information registered in his mind.
"You said the killer had OCD as well, how do you gather that?" Asked Lestrade looking at Sherlock waiting for the answer to his question eagerly hoping that for once he would be able to shoot Sherlock's intelligence down.
Sherlock smiled seeing the hope on Lestrade's face made him amused, knowing that in the moments he would talk all the hope would be drained from his expression. "As I said before there is three of everything in this room, except for what the killer left behind, the six lacerations, the six sheets of paper, and the the six pens sitting on the that table there." Sherlock said pointing in the direction of the table, he began to pace around the room with his slender hands together in a praying form and touching his lips. "All of things I have pointed out to you have the number six surrounding them, even the time between the murders is six days. The killer has and obsessive compulsion towards the number six. Now so far the killer has killed five victims, there is sure to be another one in six days, meaning we have six days to catch him. After the sixth victim he will go into a sort of hibernation, to which he will either come out of in six weeks, months or years. In this time it will be nearly impossible to catch him"
"Sherlock, you are absolutely brilliant. We need to find this killer as quickly as possible." John said with worry and astonishment in his voice.
Sherlock found himself smiling in the praise of his friend. "My dear John, it was just a simple observation. Any one could do it, they just choose not too." Sherlock replied, while turning towards the door. " I believe I've told you everything you need Lestrade, if you require my assistance further you know where to find John and I"
Sherlock walked out of the room, leaving John to hurriedly trail behind him. His legs being much longer then John's caused this to happen frequently and John found it almost routine. He soon caught up to him with a little help of Sherlock slowing his pace down to meet John's, it was awkward for his long legs but he did it for his friend. As John neared Sherlock, Sherlock found himself with an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach, he brushed the feeling off and stored it away for future analysis. John and Sherlock strode down the street in silence for quite some way until Sherlock hailed a cab for the two of them. The journey was taken in the same comfortable silence in the beginning but soon Sherlock broke the silence.
"Your observations are getting much better, John." Sherlock said without turning his head to face John.
"Why thank you, Sherlock." John said with unsureness in his speech. "It's quite out of character of you to point out the well doings of others."
"I find that most people find that when one's well doing are pointed out they find it encouraging. If you would like me to not do so I will stop." Sherlock said flatly at first but towards the end one could almost imagine sadness in his voice.
"No, that is alright. Thank you, having your encouragement means a lot to me." John said turning away from Sherlock and gazing at the passing buildings.
"You are welcome." Sherlock replied finally gazing down at the shorted man next to him, there was happiness in the way he said this last sentence, but he knew John would not notice such a thing, and was slightly glad for his friends inability to observe on the same levels as he could.
