A.N.- And here's the sequel. I had to restate a couple of things for people who didn't read the original DBS 1 so… sorry if it seems a little bit repetitive. Hope you guys are looking forward to this as much as I am! Thanks to everyone who left reviews/ PM'ed me asking for a sequel (here you go).
The Dame of Baker Street 2: Mind Games, Ch. 1
"Sherlock!" John shouted, he was standing at the bottom of St. Bart's and looking up. His partner was on the roof, the wind whipping his black coat around him harshly.
"Sherlock!" John shouted again. The detective peered over the edge of the building and held his phone to his ear.
"What?" He snapped, "I'm working." John huffed through his phone and shifted his weight.
"There's nothing down here. Are you sure he could have dropped something?" He asked.
"Of course, the footsteps go to the edge and back again. I'm certain he let something fall." Sherlock returned shortly.
"Are you sure?" A female voice asked, joining the conference call on her own phone.
"Yes, Madeline. Don't second guess me." Sherlock said irately. "Check the area around the sidewalk too. Perhaps the item blew away."
"You think it was light?" Madeline said, joining John on the sidewalk in front of Bart's and looking up at the detective on the roof. The sight brought back bad memories that she brushed away with a shake of her head. She and John split up and looked around amid the yellow police tape strung across the street while Sherlock kept examining something on the roof. Madeline paced along the street, trying to find anything amongst the brown leaves that had been washed to the side of the street in the fall rain. Something white caught her eye that was looped over one of the bars of a storm drain. She bent down and pinched the small object between her fingers and discovered that it was paper. Madeline gingerly tried to pull the paper out of the drain but it tore in two. She swore under her breath and held the two soggy micro-strips of paper in her palm and carried them back to John.
"Sherlock, I think I found something." She relayed into her phone. Sherlock appeared on the roof and stared down towards the street.
"Excellent, what is it?" He said eagerly.
"A strip of paper I found in a storm drain. When I pulled it out it tore in two but-"
"It tore?"
"Yeah, but we can still use it, right?" Sherlock groaned through the phone tediously.
"Try to be less destructive. Go put the pieces in a bag and give them to whomever's still working down there." He directed. "John, come up here I need a doctor's input."
"On my way." John said through his phone. Madeline quickly passed off the paper strips to Detective Inspector Lestrade and followed John up to the roof of St. Bart's. Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her when he saw her emerge onto the roof minutes after John did.
"Are you trying to trigger your depression?" He snapped rhetorically, "Go back and work on finding more objects in the street."
"I'm on my medicine," Madeline said defensively. "I'll be fine." Sherlock rolled his eyes as John stepped forward to examine the body splayed awkwardly on the ground.
"Yes until your dosage wears off and your stubbornness kicks in." He said coldly, frowning when Madeline tried to peer around him and sidling in front of her to block the body from her view. She crossed her arms and glared at him.
"Fine I won't look at it, but get me something to do. My lab is a couple of floors down, I'll go ahead and analyze anything you need." She stated. Sherlock had opened his mouth for a biting retort when John called him over. The detective gave Madeline a stern glance before heading over to the corpse. She made a show of turning around to look in the other direction. His eyes automatically darted over the body jubilantly as he assessed it.
Black male,
Early to mid-twenties,
No visible lacerations,
Contracted pupils, time of death over two hours prior,
Slight rigor mortis in legs,
Severe rigor mortis in arms,
Mouth-
"Sherlock." John repeated, holding the corpse's mouth open gently and using a pair of forceps to pull a ovular red and yellow object from his mouth.
"Yes that's what I called you over for." Sherlock observed tonelessly. John held onto the item with the forceps as he rotated in front of his face.
"Is this an apple piece?" He asked incredulously. Sherlock nodded and pinched the piece between his fingers. It was about five inches in diameter and cut into a small but thin circular sliver from a red apple.
"Why was that in his mouth?" John asked. Sherlock made sure Madeline was facing away from the crime scene before inspecting the apple slice closer.
"The flesh part is yellowed, so the fruit is old. And look at the jaw. I trust you weren't too violent when opening his mouth." He said.
"Of course not." John admonished. Sherlock nodded curtly and continued.
"Of course not; so explain the forcible and unnatural opening of his mouth when rigor mortis began to set in." He pointed out. "If you tested the muscles around his jaw the lactic acid would have been forced from the cells around the hinge of his jawbone."
"Was that you maybe?" Madeline called over her shoulder, Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her back and turned back to work.
"I didn't open his mouth so far, you're the second one to do so following his death- not including me, of course." He intoned. John produced an evidence bag and Sherlock nonchalantly dropped the apple piece into it and zipped it shut.
"So the apple was put in after death." John murmured.
"Obviously, it's not as if he could choke on it." Sherlock responded coldly, "And think- it's far too large for him to have bitten off of an apple, and the edges are cleanly cut- not perforated like with teeth. Miss Carver, could you discern what was on the paper you found?" He asked. Madeline turned around quickly, pleased to be included in the investigation again. Sherlock made sure to spread his coat a little bit to hide the majority of the body from view.
"I couldn't really read it, we'll have to let it dry out a little bit, first." She explained. Sherlock huffed and gestured for her to turn back around by spinning his hand. She sighed and crossed her arms, turning back around and frowning.
"John check his neck." The detective instructed.
"Bruises at the top of the throat and directly underneath the jawbones." John reported. Sherlock nodded wisely.
"Excellent, check his nose." He added. John furrowed his brow but did as Sherlock had said.
"Both nostrils are in an unnaturally narrower position." He relayed, "The skin oil on his nose has been slid around unnaturally like something was holding it shut."
"So he was strangled." Sherlock murmured, "As expected. That is clever though- actually it's foolish unless they were smart enough." He said. "They forcibly closed his mouth by applying strength under the jaw and simultaneously adding pressure to his windpipe. Then they pinched his nose shut to close off all airways and suffocated him." John frowned at the body and stood back up.
"But why did he die?" He asked. Sherlock frowned and circled the body twice.
"I'm still working on it." He murmured. "Perhaps a gang? He had dog hairs on the heel of his palm and in the inner edge of his cuffs. Coarse hairs, perhaps he had a big dog."
"But what would dogs have to do with a gang?" Madeline asked by his shoulder. He glared at her but she had her eyes aimed at the buildings across the street.
"I'm not looking, and I'm not stupid." She said.
"They have everything to do with it, Miss Carver." Sherlock said shortly. "Perhaps your American gangs function differently. On the wrong side of London there are many street mobs and organizations who can prove to be quite dangerous."
"You sound like you've dealt with them." Madeline observed, suppressing a small shudder. Sherlock's mouth curled slightly like he was recalling fond memories, John shook his head and stuffed his hands into his pockets wordlessly.
"As of 2007 there are over 169 gangs in London itself. Over a quarter of said organizations have been involved in murders. The members tend to use big dogs like German Shepherds and Pitbulls in either illegal dog fights or as back up when inducing panic." The detective explained in a stream of inforation. "You're lucky enough to not have met them." John coughed pointedly and Sherlock sighed.
"Point being he could have been part of the gangs in Manchester or up on the East Side." He summarized, thrusting the plastic bag with the apple sample at Madeline.
"Hold this." He said. She scowled and pinched it between her fingers angrily.
"Can I help?" She said irately, still not looking at the body. Sherlock frowned and began to inspect the victim's hands and feet for any hidden tattoos or soil traces.
"Holmes, how's it going?" Detective Inspector Lestrade panted, huffing from the exerting climb up to the roof.
"Middle twenties, died about two hours ago. There was an apple piece in his mouth that had been put there after death, Miss Carver has the bag for you." Sherlock said quickly, not at all trying to elaborate. Madeline unhappily handed Lestrade the bag and tapped her hand against her leg impatiently.
"That's irritating," Sherlock told her, "If you're that much bothered by your boredom then tell me what you see." John gave him a sharp look and Madeline sighed in relief as she finally lowered her gaze to the body.
A small surge of nausea hit her stomach with a pang but she quickly reigned it in, determined not to let Sherlock notice how uncomfortable the sight of bodies still made her. She clutched her left hand in her right to subconsciously cover the "M" Jim Moriarty had carved into it.
"He's a businessman." She observed offhandedly, trying to figure out an observation John and Sherlock hadn't already stated. Sherlock huffed obnoxiously and crossed his arms. Madeline cut him a sharp glare and turned to Lestrade.
"Do you still have that paper strip I gave you?" She asked. He nodded and produced the bag, which Madeline handed off to Sherlock. He took it with a slightly pleased expression and examined the two torn paper segments through the plastic.
"It's a number." He said plainly, shaking the bag to turn the damp pieces around. "And it's one I recognize."
"Whose is it?" John asked suspiciously. Sherlock smirked and pocketed the bag.
"An acquaintance of mine." He said, turning and striding towards the exit staircase. "Gregor," He called over his shoulder. "Go ahead and run a DNA test on him, it might make you feel useful." Lestrade frowned.
"Sherlock, DNA and proteins are literally my profession. Are you seriously not going to let me help?" Madeline interceded. Sherlock scoffed and turned to face her.
"No, I need you to help with the next part, so let Scotland Yard be useful for once." He said irately. Madeline frowned in confusion but followed him off the roof. John followed suit, leaving Lestrade to stare blankly at the body and call in Donovan and Anderson.
. . .
"I used to use that number quite often. It's a gang's." Sherlock explained.
"Wait- you have a gang's phone number in your phone?" Madeline chided him. John sighed and shook his head.
"He says it was for investigations." The doctor explained. "But I did find him injected full of heroin in one of their drug dens once." Madeline gave Sherlock a sharp glance and he rolled his eyes.
"I was undercover at the time, John. You're the one who dragged me out of there before I could gather enough information for the case." He objected. "Anyway, if we're going to figure out if the victim was murdered by this gang, we're going to have to go back in." Madeline waved her hands in front of her quickly.
"Hold on. You mean 'in' as in infiltrating a drug ring?" She squeaked. Sherlock rubbed his temples and nodded.
"Of course, what else would I be implying? They should accept me back. However John-"He gave the doctor a pained look. "Won't be able to allowing as he dragged me out of the den I had infiltrated already. So that means you're going to have to help me, Miss Carver." He added. Madeline winced and tugged at her sleeves, making sure they covered the white and pink scars that lanced across the insides of her forearms. Sherlock's eyes tracked the movement and narrowed.
"If you don't want to you don't have to." He said, "You'll be more of a hassle if you become triggered while we're working on the case." Madeline reached into her pocket to feel for the round orange prescription bottle that held her antidepressant pills. She turned it over in her pocket agitatedly.
"I can do it." She said, "But what are we even going to do?" Sherlock shrugged.
"That's uncertain, but the case does look promising." He stomped up the stairs of 221 Baker Street and pushed open a door that read "221 B" on the plate beside it. Madeline stepped inside the flat after John and Sherlock and collapsed in one of the three armchairs in front of the fireplace with a sigh. She had moved in with Sherlock after a large and dangerous ordeal with Jim Moriarty, and her previously owned flat was up for rent by the landlady, Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock sat down in his chair and closed his eyes for a little bit as he entered his Mind Palace.
"The gang is known as the Peckham Boys. Quite dangerous violence wise, they wouldn't hesitate to shoot us." He said finally. "Their range spans from Brentwood to Dartford, and they've had multiple arrests by the local police and investigations through Scotland Yard. Miss Carver you'll go with me, and John keep your mobile on you and stay in the area in case something goes awry."
"You want me to loiter around the East End?" John repeated. "Brilliant, sounds like a normal day's work." Sherlock smiled tightly at him and steepled his fingers in front of his nose to think for a while longer. Madeline and John made idle conversation while they waited him out, and Madeline's calico cat Sherry stalked out of her room and began to rub against Sherlock's leg. He jerked out of his mind palace when the cat sank its claws into his trouser leg and Madeline had to forcibly remove her. He stood and brushed himself off frustratedly, then held the door open expectantly.
"Let's go." He snapped, "The game is on."
A.N.- Ehhhhhhh first chapter is up. Honestly I kind of BS'ed this chapter so I could go ahead and start the new story because everyone wanted to find a link to it so here ya go! Thanks for supporting the original Dame of Baker Street story- we had over 24,000 views and about 100 reviews. Thank you all for your support and I hope you like this one as a sequel. I had to restate a bunch of things you probably remember from the old story as a courtesy for if you didn't read the first one. Sorry for the quality. XD