A/N: This is an AU where the Doctor is a human. First chapter, obviously. An idea popped into my head one day, I was bored and this happened. Quite short.
Told in John's point of view
November 9
The Riddler
You've probably seen this on the telly or read this in the papers. Apparently, there had been successive murders in Northern London and they are the work of one person. 2 women and 3 men, brutally murdered by a serial killer Scotland Yard dubbed: ' The Riddler ' for leaving riddles scrawled on a small piece of paper on the crime scene. The riddles are irrelevant to the case since they don't even make sense. Here's a copy…
'What is blue that is new? What is dead? Is it you?'
I guess you won't call that one a riddle. Sherlock calls the man stupid yet amusing.
Sherlock is working on the case, though. He's rather excited about it. Hours he'd spend furiously scribbling down things on paper and looking like he's close to getting the conclusion, then and now he'd play the violin or busy himself with one of his experiments. He hasn't said a word to me all week, except for the occasional: "John fetch me my revolver" when he seems puzzled over something and can't seem to get around it. He'd eventually calm down and go back to his usual staring off into space, thinking. The last time I've seen him be as excited as this was The Great Game.
I'll probably write up the entire case once it's done and over. And after I've rid of this nasty cold.
Cheers.
It was a fine Sunday afternoon, and I was just finishing a book Mike Stanford lent me when Sherlock's phone buzzed.
Sherlock, who was too absorbed in his work, bent over bottles of colourful chemicals pouring, mixing, and brewing; eyes not even bothering to spare a glance said.
"John, my phone." He drawled.
I was about to protest, his phone was right next to him and I was on the other side of the room but knowing Sherlock, I just complied.
The appointment's been fixed. :) -Molly
"So?" Sherlock asked impatiently.
"It's Molly; she said she fixed the appointment whatever that is." I said.
He wheeled around, a beaker in his hand and a look of excitement was set in his eyes. "Finally."
"Is this about the serial killings case? The recent one?"
"No, it's a new case that's why I'm contacting the doctor who's connected to the other case. Of course it is John, use your brain for once." He replied sarcastically, standing up from his chair.
"I actually use it all the time you're just too bigheaded to realise" I said under my breath.
"Come along now, we have an appointment with the doctor." He said, grabbing his coat and his scarf.
"The doctor?" I asked, tailing him as we exit the flat.
Sherlock hailed a cab and we both got in. There was an awkward period of silence before he decided to break it.
"Doctor Kairos, does the name ring any bells? "
"None at all."
Sherlock disappointedly sighed. "One of the most famous neurologists in Britain, he as well is a chemist who is the inventor of a lethal gas named after him. Kairos, sounds familiar now? The gas was used twice in the serial killings. And he, is the only known distributor, what Kairos is made of is apparently classified. The police can't get a copy of the list of people who got Kairos from him it's apparently protected by the British law. The government is probably hiding something...which is another problem but it's of no importance as of this moment."
"What if he's the serial killer?" I asked.
He scoffed. "On both occasions, he was busy with conducting a brain surgery. Then that means it must be someone who got the gas from him."
"If the police can't see it what makes you think you can?" I asked.
"Because the man is willing to tell me." He said with a smirk.
We managed to arrive in St. Barts in a short amount of time albeit the traffic. Now we were "patiently" waiting to be called on.
Sherlock was muttering deductions of the people passing by, the doctors, the nurses, everyone. I would've listened but there were other thoughts swimming around in my head.
One of the most famous neurologists in Britain at the same time creator of a dangerous gas, I tried to imagine what the man will be like.
Evil? Good? Sherlock-like? Or is he just a normal bloke who's extremely well off?
It was 6 months ago when I heard the word "Kairos" from the news, they said it was created by some doctor, mentioned his name but never showed a picture. So his identity is a mystery now…wel to me at least.
"So what's he like, this doctor?" I asked, making Sherlock turn his head towards me.
"Haven't the faintest." He said,
"Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson, please go to Room 102 it's—"Sherlock cut off the nurse.
"I know where it is" Sherlock, took a quick glance of the woman. "And you should probably change your therapist, doing a horrible job." He said with an attempt of a smile.
" Okay, tell me." I asked, following Sherlock. "How'd you know she has a therapist?"
"Bulimic, you could quickly identify a bulimic by the fingers. The index finger and the middle finger look tenderer and there's deterioration around the cuticles from exposure to frequent torrents of stomach acid. The knuckle will sometimes have scratches from cutting or rubbing against the upper front row of teeth. Also, the eyes have small veiny lines in them called petechial hemorrhaging from sharp spikes of blood pressure to the face and head during vomiting. She's bulimic, so she has a therapist. Her fingers still look tender so the therapist is doing a horrible job. Obvious." (1)
I laughed. "Even though I've known you for some time, you never fail to amaze me."
Sherlock was trying to fight back a smile, he was flattered. "Here we are."
Another A/N:
(1) I got this from Chase Hughes website. He's got amazing stuff! .com
As I've said, this is only an idea I may or may not continue this. Anyways, 11th's companion isn't Amy or Rory or Clara. It's an OC I made. Okay, hold your eyeballs don't roll them. I based the OC from my friend I find amusing.
It's Christmas break and I am bored.
Cheers,
Sharon Hope
