Disclaimer: I Do not own any of the Sherlock characters/objects etc. Therefore making this a simple Fan Story ^_^
Authors Note: I've not written anything since 2009 (my only other story on here), and before that I haven't submitted any FanFiction since 2005.
- This story is based After Season Two of Sherlock. It's based way after everyone finds out he isn't dead.
All reviews and constructive criticism is welcome. I'm sorry if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, I'm not going to make excuses, apart from sometimes I fail at things like that ^_^
Warning: This story will contain pretty mature content, I tend to write fairly dark things...
Chapter One: Tetro-Whatzin?
"Bored... Bored... so VERY, VERY Bored!"
*Buzz*
Sherlock, we've got a case that might be of interest to you. – GL
*Buzz*
Sherlock, if you're not busy it'd be nice if you could reply to this. –GL
*Buzz*
Sherlock, I know you haven't forgiven us, but we really would appreciate your help with this case. – GL
*Buzz*
Sherlock, It pains me to admit this, but we're really struggling. – GL
*Buzz*
Sherlock, Please. – GL
*Buzz*
Sherlock... Do the words, Multiple Homicide sway you at all? – GL
*Buzz*
And by Multiple, I mean an entire hotel... – GL
"Finally..."
A small smile played across the recipients lips. Today wasn't going to be dull after all. Rising from his chair, and grabbing a coat, the recipient fired off a short text.
I'm on my way. – SH
He could barely contain his glee.
It was early morning, and fog was still thick in the air as the black cab pulled up outside an old decrepit building. Hundreds of police swarmed around outside, taping off areas, collecting evidence and photographing anything that they deemed important. The occupant of the cab took a deep exhilarated breath and pushed open the door.
Meanwhile inside, a Forensic Worker went round each room checking all the bodies, as he walked into the final room, he took a deep breath, his hands shaking uncharacteristically and checked the occupant momentarily for life signs "she's dead!... That's 53 in total... Jesus".
Stepping out the cab, the man ran a hand through his messy black hair and proceeded to pull his long coat closer around his body, there was still a chill in the air. What a great start to the morning. He paused for a moment, analyzing the scene, taking in every tiny detail, before marching importantly towards the main doors of the building. Not once did he flinch, or even acknowledge the protests of the officers who seemed all together confused that a member of the public was showing such flagrant disregard for the police. It's as if they didn't even exist to him.
"Sherlock!"
Through the commotion he was creating, a man with graying hair gestured towards him. "It's alright he's with me!" He added turning to the officers.
"Lestrade" Sherlock said curtly as he reached the door, "You have ten seconds to tell me why this case is worth wasting any of my precious time on"
"Well..." Lestrade began.
"Eight seconds"
"It's..."
"Five Seconds"
Flustered, Lestrade blurted out the only thing he thought would keep Sherlock there; "53 deaths"
"Very good Lestrade, you're getting better at cutting out all that... Talking that you do".
Ignoring Sherlock's comment, Lestrade continued, "Not all done at the same time mind. From the looks of things it's been going on for several months, there are various different corpses in different levels of decay, no apparent links between any of the victims so far... or at least none that we've worked out".
"Have you determined which the most recent corpse is?"
"Yes, we believe it's a woman in her twenties, we got a call off her family saying she was staying here, said that they hadn't heard from her in a few days and they were worried, that it was very unlike her"
"Thank you, Lestrade, for that pointless information! Now would you be so kind as to show me to the corpse, we're not getting any younger you know".
With a grimace Lestrade nodded and headed through the doors, Sherlock in toe.
Inside the hotel, the smell of decaying flesh was strong, most the police and forensic team working the scene wore surgical type masks to try and detract from the smell. Without even a shudder, Sherlock simply pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it to his nose.
"She's in there" Lestrade said nodding in the general direction.
Walking into the room, Sherlock saw a young girl lay on the bed. Her body was positioned as if she had merely fallen into a deep slumber and never awoken. But there was something odd about the whole scene, and Sherlock was struggling to grasp how nobody else seemed to be able to see this.
"How long has she been dead?"
"Couple of hours?"
"Who pronounced it?"
"Anderson... Why?"
"Oh this is too perfect" Sherlock smirked
"What?"
"I think you might want to re-evaluate your team, you see, dear Anderson has made a bit of a cock up"
"Again... What?"
"She's not dead"
"Anderson said she doesn't have a pulse, she isn't breathing, and she has no discernable heart beat... How is that 'not dead'?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"You say she's been dead for several hours yes? Yet neither her skin nor lips show the palled grey blue color present when the heart is no longer able to pump blood round the body" walking over to the corpse, he pulled back her eye lids "usually after death the eyes go cloudy, hers are not... Yes the pupils are dilated, but they resemble that of a drug addicted rather than a cadaver ".
"Are you insane?"
"No, and if I'm right, which I always am, she's ingested a form of Tetrodotoxin..." he paused, seeing the look on confusion on Lestrade's face "It's... a type of neurotoxin found in the Puffer fish" he added, trying to dumb it down as much as he could. " If prepared right, it can create the illusion of death to an untrained eye such as Anderson or yourself... It paralyses the body, lowers the body temperature and slows the heat beat right down... If not treated it can be lethal, so I suggest you call a paramedic in here unless you really do want her to be number 53".
"Tetro...Whatzin?"
"Tetrodotoxin"
"How could you possibly know that?"
"Just get the Paramedics!"
Deciding to humor him despite what he believed to be Andersons better judgment on what constituted a dead body, Lestrade instructed a passing officer to fetch the Paramedics as quickly as possible. As they arrived, before they even had chance to examine the girl, Sherlock advised them that the woman wasn't dead, but merely poisoned. He told them, much to their displeasure that they should pump her stomach and then try to feed her activated charcoal to help bind the toxin in her system, and if possible an acetylcholinesterase inhibitor should be used.
"Is he always this irritating?" one paramedic asked Lestrade.
"Unfortunately, Yes"
"Do you want my help?" Sherlock interrupted "Because I have plenty of other things that could be occupying my time".
By this point, word had got back to the aforementioned Anderson, that Sherlock was here and openly questioning his diagnosis, still in his full forensic gear, he burst into the room quite disgruntled and about ready to start a fight.
"What the HELL is your problem?"
"Ah! Anderson, so good to see you" Sherlock smirked "come to condemn some more people before their time?"
"She's dead Sherlock! What you're doing is wrong... it's disrespectful, you can't just go round desecrating corpses like this"
"She's not a corpse Anderson, stop acting like you know what you're talking about".
"This is wrong" Anderson repeated, shaking his head.
"We've got a pulse!" one of the Paramedics called over the commotion. "It's very weak but it's there"
"Well Anderson, it would appear that in fact, it is what you are doing that is wrong!" Sherlock grinned.
"Quick, get her to the ambulance!"
The Paramedics grabbed the corners of the bed sheet the girl was lay on, and pulled it tight, using it as a make shift stretcher, bustling her out the room as quick as possible and down to the Ambulance. As they left, one of them turned to Lestrade and said "He may be a cock, but he knows what he's talking about".
Sherlock couldn't help but look smug as he watched the conflicted expression play across Lestrade's face. He always loved getting one over on Anderson, and todays was the best one yet, Anderson had no idea how much hot water he'd just gotten himself into, and Sherlock was tingling with anticipation at the scene that was about to unfold.
"Anderson, you're dismissed. Go home, this isn't going to go down well for you" Lestrade said in a saddened tone.
"But... But..."
"Just go, that was a careless mistake and you could have cost us our only witness so far, that's gross misconduct Anderson!" Lestrade interrupted.
"But..."
"GO!"