Deductions

The streets of London groaned under the weight of the crowds. The variety of bodies, heading in any direction, towards shops, tourist attractions, restaurants, their homes, the possibilities were endless. Elizabeth's mind danced with the many possibilities and lives of the people around her. She took in as much as she could, but there was so much to experience in the streets which she just could not capture. Her mind was focused on the man weaving his way through the crowds. A man who she knew only by face and meeting him but she needed to know more.

The average sized man was in his early twenties, that much was clear from the way he carried himself, head down like a teenager; he was only just out of university. The teaming of tight jeans and a hoody suggested he was fairly into fashion but pointed more towards comfort. Comfort which he needed when he was moving about, he was moving through the crowd's with ease, he's used to the heavy populated streets. From what she had seen of his face he was fairly attractive with dirty blonde coloured hair that was cut in a short military style.

Elizabeth watched as he stopped by a souvenir shop, she slowed her pace so she wouldn't have to run into him or stop herself before following him. That would look suspicious and she couldn't afford to give herself away now. She pulled the phone out of her pocket and spoke into it.

"Hello" the mindless chatter of the passing people covered up the lack of a person on the receiving end of the phone. "I'm on my way now" she felt like hitting herself for using the oldest trick in the book, the fake phone call but she needed something to buy her some time before she could resume tailing the man.

He came out of the shop a moment later with a small bag, with what seemed to be an 'I Love London' top. She frowned at herself as she slipped the phone back into her pocket and slowly started following him again. Either he had suddenly developed a love for cheap souvenirs or he was changing his MO and incorporating the item to throw the police of his scent.

The man she was following was her biggest suspect in a rape/murder case. She had seen him at two of the crime scenes amongst the crowds and decided to follow him. One crime scene is merely a coincidence but at two crime scenes that were miles away from each other, that was no coincidence. The case she was investigating was the rape of university students, young girls all linked by their similar appearances. Good looking, blonde hair and brown eyes. The change in the MO occurred three months ago, when a young woman named Bianca Stacks was murdered after being raped. She was he first to be killed but not the last. The 5 victims following Bianca: Jane Heeley, Clare Vanderwalt, Amy Reynolds, Penny Smith and Harper Austen were all raped and murdered. Their bodies mutilated and displayed for the police to find and appreciated. The man responsible was highly disturbed and needed to be caught, young women studying to give themselves a good start in lives where having everything taken from them and the population were scared for their sisters, children and friends….

The thought was sent flying from her head as she collided with a tall man that stepped in front of her. Her body bounced off his body and she crashed into a group of girls who were chatting behind her. They screamed as she hit them and tried to move forward, she muttered no apologises "shit" she cursed, as the man she followed moved out of sight. Elizabeth ran her hands through her straight black hair and fought off the urge to cry.

"Miss, are you ok?" a soft voice reached her ears, the man speaking to her was slightly shorter than the average man and dressed in a simple jumper, jeans and a jacket. His military style blonde hair and straight stance told her he was in the army, his steady hands by his sides said doctor. He was stood next to the tall man she had collided with. She looked at the tall man, who was very skinny beneath his long grey coat. He was smartly dressed in a white shirt, blazer and black trousers, he had expensive taste in clothes, but had no obvious care for what he wore except it was obvious he wore nothing else from the slight tan marks on his wrists were the shirt stopped. The tan marks were almost unnoticeable but she could see the small difference from years of observing people. She suspected that there would be a similar mark on his neck but the scarf obscured her view. She lifted her gaze to his face and breathed in at his striking features and curly dark hair. A skinny face with sharp cheek bones, harsh blue eyes beneath dark lashes and a thin line for his pink lips as he bit down whatever comment he was dying to say.

"No I am not ok" she blurted out and gestured towards the tall man "thanks to your friend here, I have lost someone."

The blonde looks at her apologetically "I'm sure he's sorry" he says quickly and looks at tall mane next to him, he whispers "Sherlock, say you're sorry."

The tall man, Sherlock looked at Elizabeth with a annoyed expression "it is not my fault if she has lost her boyfriend in the crowd, if she wasn't following him then this wouldn't be an issue."

Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at the man, he was staring at her, drinking her information like she did and thought he was so clever. "Nice deduction Loser, but you are wrong and boring me" she spoke with a mocking tone and rolled her eyes at Sherlock.

The blonde haired man laughed wildly at the remark, Sherlock shot him a deadly glare and he bit down on his lip to stop himself laughing. Elizabeth was slightly amused "by your reaction I assume you are not used to your friend being referred to in a derogatory manner, which is such a shame because he's an idiot and you have a nice laugh"

He laughed again and Sherlock looked at him shocked and spoke in amazement "John, she just called me an idiot"

"Yes, I heard" John shot her an apologetic look and ignored the glare that Sherlock sent him.

"A child is insulting me" he huffed in disbelief, throwing his arms around overdramatically; Elizabeth sighed at the sight of this man acting like a child. "she has no idea what she is even implying."

She widened her eyes in disbelief of the grown man in front of her, who was acting like a child. A child in a mood, she positively beamed "Idiot: Early 14th century, person so mentally deficient as to be incapable of ordinary reasoning; Middle English, simple man, uneducated person, layman. Late 14th century, Old French, idiote, uneducated or ignorant person, 12th century, from Latin idiota, ordinary person, layman, outside, in late Latin, uneducated or ignorant person. From Greek idiotes layman, person lacking in professional skill, as opposed a soldier or skilled writer, Like your friend here" she gestures to John, then continues "used patronisingly for ignorant person, from idios meaning one's own." She took a moment to breath "Reader, suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself."

"Mark Twain, 1882" Sherlock finishes, his eyes rolling before settling on the young woman in front of him.

Elizabeth is looking at John who is stood open mouthed, gaping at her. "Close your mouth" Sherlock snaps, John follows his instructions.

"That was amazing" he says softly, still staring at her.

"Was it?" both Sherlock and Elizabeth say simultaneously, the exchange a brief look of annoyance before looking back to John who is holding back a laugh.

"Yes" John states simply. Sherlock's hand slip into his coat pockets automatically and he looks around for a moment before letting his eyes settle on the young woman again.

"Thank you." Elizabeth mouths towards him, she keeps her eyes on John as she begins to walk away "It was nice to meet you" she turns to Sherlock "play nice in the future, then people might actually like you."

He rolled his eyes at her "I don't care if people like me" his voice verging on anger.

"I know you don't, neither do I" she carried on walking away, a smile appearing on her face. Her senses screamed that this wasn't over and as if on cue John called back.

"I don't even know your name" he shouted at her, she turned back and looked at the blonde haired man and his tall companion, who stood still in the crowds.

"No" she laughed to herself "Goodbye John Watson and Sherlock Holmes." She called loud enough for them to hear before walking towards the corner where she lost her suspect moments before meeting the obnoxious Sherlock Holmes and the friendly John Watson.

Elizabeth continued down the street, there was no hope in finding her suspect now. A tube station was within walking distance, cabs were scattered throughout the roads and the buses regular. She sighed, the man had escaped her and she had no way to find him, without a name or any records. There was no way to find someone with merely the image of his face. Although it pained her to admit it to herself, she needed to ask the police for help.

She slipped the phone of out her pocket and typed a quick message

SY 5:00pm, no questions, be there – EW

The response was almost immediate; she smiled at the obvious attention that she was getting.

I'll be there –GL

She was happy with the reply, no questions like she asked. She slipped the phone back into her pocket and started walking towards Scotland Yard, she had twenty minutes before her meeting with Greg Lestrade.