It's in the cab to the crime scene that he asks me what I do. I tell him I'm a consulting detective and that when the police are out of their depth they ask me for help. He replies by saying that the police don't consult amateurs. I then begin to explain how I worked out that he was a veteran, that he has a wound from the war and that his sibling has a drinking problem just to prove that I was no amateur.
"That... was amazing"
"You think so?" I ask, slightly taken aback.
"Of course it was. It was extraordinary. It was quite extraordinary" He replied sincerely.
"That's not what people normally say"
"What do people normally say?"
"`Piss off`…" I say smiling and he laughs.
We eventually arrive at the address that Lestrade gave me. As we walk towards the house I ask John if I got anything wrong when I worked out the things about him. He told me that he and Harry (his sibling) don't get on, that they never had and that Clara and Harry had split up three months previous, were now getting a divorce and that Harry was a drinker. I was surprised I had got everything spot on, I told John so.
"Harry is short for Harriet"
Of course his sister! I always miss something in the beginning. We approach the police line Sergeant Sally Donovan calls over the radio to Lestrade saying `The freaks here`. John, hearing her say it, gives both Sally and I a look but says nothing. She then begins to ask who John was as we made our way towards the house that the crime scene was in. As we neared the door Anderson appeared.
"Ah, Anderson. Here we are again" I say as he approaches.
"It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?" he replies.
"Quite clear. And is your wife away for long?"
"Oh, don't pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you that"
"Your deodorant told me that"
"My deodorant?"
"It's for men"
"Well, of course it's for men - I'm wearing it" he said, slightly confused.
"So's Sergeant Donovan. Ooh... I think it just vaporised. May I go in?"
"Now look, whatever you're imply..." he began angrily.
"I'm not implying anything. I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over. And I assume she scrubbed your floor, going by the state of her knees" I replied before sweeping past them and into the house, John following.
We came across Lestrade and made our way up to the crime scene. The woman was lying face down in the middle of the room. She was wearing a pink coat, she had pink nails, chipped on the left hand which was lying next to scratches on the floor that read `Rache`, she obviously scratched it there before she died.
Lestrade told me that she had swallowed a pill, suicide he was saying. It wasn't, not when the other's that died had done so in the same way – self administered poison, made to look like suicide.
"She was German. Rache. Means revenge, she could be trying to..." Anderson began as he had appeared at the door.
"Yes thank you for your input" I said as I walked over and slammed the door in his face.
I asked John how he thought she'd died. He turned to look at Lestrade and he nodded. John then began to work, looking over the body. He told us she had died of asphyxiation, probably choked on her own vomit, he said.
I began moving around the body again, taking my phone from my pocket to get the information in need from the internet. I was trying to get all the facts, my mind moving quickly, running through all the possibilities from my observations and coming to the most logical of each. I stop moving and turn towards Lestrade.
"Shut up" I command.
"I didn't say anything" he replies, confused and shocked.
"You were thinking. It's annoying" I replied absently, not paying much attention to him now my mind was working again.
Lestrade finally asks me what I think has happened to her, what my theories are, what I've been able to observe. I begin moving around the body again, pointing ach thing out as I say it.
"Her coat is slightly damp; she's been in heavy rain in the last few hours. No rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp too; she's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her left-hand pocket, but it's dry and unused: no just wind, strong wind, too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight, so she must have come a decent distance, but not more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried. So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time? Cardiff"
When Lestrade told me there was no case – there was one, evident from the mud splashes up the back of her leg – I knew then that the killer, serial killer I corrected myself, had made a mistake and I left the crime scene quickly in search of Jennifer Wilson's case was.
We're sitting in Angelo's restaurant. Angelo was telling John how I'd saved him from going to jail, I reminded him he did go to jail but for robbery and not the murder that he was thought to have commited. He disappeared and returned with a small candle for the table, John protesting that he wasn't my date.
We were here because I was trying to lure the killer out. I was sitting watching 22 Northumberland Street I told John to order, I was too busy watching the house to eat but I was also thinking about my mystery texter.
I couldn't, for the life of me figure out who was sending me messages. Mycroft wouldn't be hiding the fact that he was helping me, he would outright come talk to me face to face. I thought about how I could find out who it was. If I could trace the number and e-mail then I'd find them. I don't have the means though. Of course! Shawn! He'll be able to help. I'll go see him once this case is over.
"People don't have arch enemies." He said after a while, taking a bite of his food.
What? Arch enemy? Oh, right. Mycroft. Damn him for kidnapping John. He couldn't even wait a day at least; no, he had to take him hours after we'd met. He can't let me have anything without sticking his insufferable nose in. I glanced at John; he looked like he was waiting for me to say something.
"I'm sorry?"
"In real life. There are no arch enemies in real life. Doesn't happen" he replied.
Oh, you don't know Mycroft, I thought bitterly.
"Doesn't it? Sounds a bit dull" I replied.
I look back out the window while John takes another bite of his food. It smells nice. He'd given me a look when I didn't order. I focused on the people on the street again, looking closely at them as they walk past. None of them seemed to be who I was looking for. Surely they'd turn up, I'd sent the text, they'd want to come, even just out of curiosity.
"So who did I meet?"
Ahh, curiosity John, that's good, I like that. Doesn't mean I'm going to tell you who he is though. Its bad enough he kidnapped you never mind you knowing who he is. You don't need to know. I make sure to keep the same disinterested look on my face however; I don't want him to see my emotions running riot within me.
"What do real people have then? In their real lives" I reply, redirecting the conversation away from Mycroft.
"Friends, people they like, people they don't like. Girlfriends, boyfriends" he replies, not commenting on the subject change.
"Well, like I was saying; dull." I reply before we lapse into silence for a few moments.
"So you don't have a girlfriend then?"
I blink. Why is he asking me this? I suppose he's trying to get to know me since he knows that I know about him. But why go straight for my relationship status? Why not family or friends or my likes and dislikes?
"Girlfriend, no. Not really my area." I reply, trying to look out of the window, hoping he'll drop the subject.
"Oh" he says, slightly taken aback. "Oh right! Do you have a boyfriend then?" He pauses. "Which is fine by the way."
"I know its fine." I reply quickly.
He looks at me and we lapse into silence again. I look at him from the corner of my eye in the dim light, not that that hinders me in the slightest. My eyesight is sharp and clear regardless of the light, as is my hearing in the loudest din, my sense of smell and taste too is much better than an ordinary human, I can identify many more scents and tastes much quicker and easier. Then of course there's my sense of touch, I can feel the pressure of the air around me, I can feel when it changes with people moving, I can feel other people's body heat radiating out from them, but most of all I can feel, hear and smell their blood pumping around their bodies.
I feel the familiar burn in my throat and realise I was hungry, I thought of the last time I fed, hours ago. I really should have fed at some point, probably before coming back out the house again I think to myself. How could I have been so stupid? I'll just have to resist until I get home. I look back out the window, trying to drown everyone out, trying to drown out the sound of their blood pumping and their scents filling the small, enclosed warm room.
"So you've got a boyfriend?"
"No." I reply turning back to the window.
"Right. Okay. You're unattached. Just like me. Right. Good." He says it in a weird way, it makes me pause and look at him again. I realise I've begun speaking before I know what I'm saying.
"John, I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I'm flattered by your interest, I'm really not looking for..."
"No, no, I'm not asking..." He replies quickly. "No" saying it slowly, struggling for the right words. "I'm just saying" He pauses. "It's all fine." He finishes and I feel the awkwardness between us.
"Good. Thank you." I say, trying to dispel some of the tension. I notice a cab pull up in front of 22 Northumberland Street. It sits there, that must be him. I stand and John follows and the chase begins.