The sun's rays went through the window, making itthe only form of light that went through the small apartment.
Sitting alone on his chair, Sherlock Holmes was in his robe looking though cases on his laptop.
"4,3,5,2," he drowned on and on, his voice sounding more and more frustrated.
He stood up quickly and got his coat finding a case that was at least a 6.
Going down the stairs and opening up the door dramatically, he waved for a taxi, his scarf moving with the wind that signaled yet another rainy day in London England.
The taxi arrived revealing a small home with vines growing around the roof almost hiding the huge crack in the house. The white paint was barely reaching the surface, covered by dirt and age.
"Who are you?"
Sherlock bumped passed a man slamming open the front door. A small girl in dirty and large clothes jumped, hiding behind a corner.
The man with light blonde hair, a bit of a belly, followed Sherlock, and gave the girl a intense and stern look. She suddenly jumped back up again, returning to cleaning the dishes.
"Who. ARe. YOU," the man roared.
"Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective and the police will be here in-"
Suddenly, two police cars showed up to the front of the house.
"Get back to work," the man said, gritting his teeth while the small child behind him seemed to be looking out the window. With her eyes wide and arms shaking, she went back to work.
"What's going on Dad?"
Sherlock turned to the hallway to the left of the front door, revealing at least 5 kids, all with dark hair and dark eyes, clearly in elementary school a majority of them, except two who were about in their early teens.
"Secret boyfriend," suddenly popped up next to one of the older kids. Sherlock smirked at his deduction. "Probably going to be pregnant sooner or later no doubt," he thought.
The other teen was clearly failing 3 of his classes and smoking crack.
One of the kids looked at the small girl and gave an evil grin. It was clear him and the others harass her.
He then looked at the girl, her arms were shaking with bruises and scratches on her legs and arms, clearly from her sibling. He tried to deduce her further but her emotions showed nothing. Which left Sherlock shocked and confused.
The girls eyes looked at Sherlock staring at her.
"Trench Coat, clearly expensive. Comes from a rich family," she thought, looking at the consulting detective, "a job that is made up clearly doesn't get a lot of money," she giggled at that thought. Despite the fact that her dad didn't let her watch TV
or take any breaks for that matter, the four year old still has heard of the famous genius.
"By the way he is griping his hands, he's trying to hide something or..is lying to himself," she thought, "clearly is the younger sibling, and has a friend who's a doctor." She smiled at how much she's been improving.
"Sherlock for the millionth time bring the-," Lestrade began but then stopped when he saw the little girl standing before him. Sherlock stared at him trying not to get pissed at not only him, but the situation at hand.
"Put your hands up, you bastard."
"We called for the murder of my brother not for me to get arrested," the big man spat while being put into handcuffs.
"Suicide," Sherlock spat back.
"I'm sorry?!"
"Suicide. Obvious really."
"Knew it,"the little girl wrote down on a piece of paper, carefully passing it to Sherlock.
"Now get in the car," Lestrade stated gruffly as he passed the accused abuser to the other officers.
"And you," he looked towards the little girl as he went back in the broken down house," what might your name be?"
"Charlotte," she wrote in messy handwriting on a piece of paper.