The truth behind the Chinese spiral
Chapter one: Let the Game Begin
"On January fifth, the bodies of Henry and Sofia Delacru were found lying in the hallway by their 18 year old daughter Christine. She promptly called the police, reporting that her parents were found unresponsive and lying in a pool of blood. The EMT's and the police arrived in 15 minutes. Henry and Sofia were pronounced dead on arrival. According to criminal profilers working with the police, this is the work of the nighttime killer .The police currently have no leads and ask for anyone who has any knowledge to call the station or to go to the station and tell a working officer." "What a shame isn't it?" I asked Sherlock. "What was that John? Sorry I didn't quite hear you." "I said what I shame that Henry and Sofia are dead." I half expected him to say that he did not remember them. He has surprised me with this several times in the past. Sometimes he is just a calculating machine, a brilliant computer that can solve some of the hardest problems in either seconds or hours, sometimes days. "Ah yes, Henry and Sofia. How could I not remember them? They have quite the collection of Chinese relics."
I was not surprised that he remembers Henry and Sofia just because of their collection of Chinese relic's . I was sitting on the armchair by the kitchen, which Sherlock has turned into a miniature lab. We have had many arguments over his habit of keeping specimens in the fridge or freezer. However, no matter how hard I argue, Sherlock always wins every single argument. Even if it does not have to do with keeping specimens in the fridge, he will always win. It was a normal Sunday
Afternoon, Sherlock and I had finished lunch a few minutes ago, and we were sitting in the main room of the apartment. I was reading the news and Sherlock was reading a book while occasionally jotting down notes in a notebook. I had asked him earlier what he was reading and he said something related to" criminal psychology and its uses in modern prosecution." This answer made no sense to me so I said "okay" and went back to the news.
Normally Sherlock would be working on God knows what in the lab or working on a case, but today had been surprisingly slow in the apartment of Sherlock Holmes. To me this signaled bad news. Both for me and for Sherlock. I was half expecting to hear Sherlock's phone ring or to hear sirens outside on the street. Then my thoughts came true. About a half hour after my premonition, someone broke the peaceful silence in the room. I could hear someone knocking hard on the door and shouting "Sherlock Holmes and John Watson!" repeatedly. This person could only be police inspector lestrade. With a sigh and a groan, I looked over at Sherlock, who had most obviously been sleeping at his desk and had been startled awake by Lestrades banging on the door. When our eyes met the others, we both said together and in unison, "The game is on!"
