Chapter 2
"Sherlock, where is the key?" John fussed with finding the key.
"What- Oh! You're searching for the key!" Sherlock grinned from ear to ear.
"What are you smiling for? Give me the damn key!" Watson started to panic.
"Now that you mention it: I think I lost it." The calm attitude of his flatmate was jarring on Watson's nerves.
"What the hell…? I can't believe this is happening! So, you call yourself a genius? Then go and search for the fucking key!"
Sherlocks mobile phone was ringing again.
"Oh, seems Lestrade is getting nervous because we aren't there yet. Looks like the search for the key has to wait." Sherlock seemed to be perfectly happy with the development of the situation.
"As I said before: I'm not leaving the house today." John made himself comfortable on Sherlock's bed.
"Oh, John. Are you really that stupid? You have no choice. You gotta follow me everywhere until we have found the key."
"Finally, you arrived, Mr. Holmes.", Lestrade greeted.
He was standing at the crime scene with Donovan. A few metres behind him, Anderson and colleagues examined the corpse. The corpse had been found deep in Bathampton Wood right next to the Bath Golf Club and the University of Bath.
Sherlock was heading towards them with Watson right behind him.
What was that?
Donovan noticed first.
"Very interesting. I know you're a freak but I didn't know you were into THAT…" she said, glancing at the handcuffs with a smirk.
"And I didn't know you were involved with the executive management. Judging from your knees, as always."
He knew it would have been better to make Donovan stay in the office. But he really needed her assistance to handle this case. On the other hand, without Sherlock's help, the case wasn't likely to be solved either.
"Donovan, would you do me a favor, please? I need a coffee to go."
Reluctantly, Donovan started her journey to the next coffee shop.
Phew, situation defused. Nice trick, Greg.
"And now to you: What are you doing there? Is this some kind of game?" Lestrade was bursting with curiousity.
What a pity, Lestrade. Your such a nice guy but I won't tell you my real reasons, though.
"It was an accident, to be correct. I was checking if the handcuffs still work with Watson as my help and suddenly the key was lost. Didn't had time for searching it because a certain someone was waiting for us."
"Oh, I'm so sorry for you. I hope you'll find the key soon." Lestrade managed to stifle a laugh. This was too funny. Preferably, he had made a photo of them.
Lestrade cleared his throat.
"So, this is the victim. His name is William Frost. He is 42 years old, single, no children, worked as an archaeologist here in Bath. His residence was in London. The problem is there are neither signs of foul play neither did he commit suicide. We need to wait for the forensics report."
Sherlock kneeled next to the dead. He was 5 feet 9 inches tall, had a half-bald head and round spectacle frames. He noticed the dark circles under his eyes. But that wasn't the most remarkable thing about William Frost. The most strinking fact was that his eyes were opened wide. Judging from his terrified facial expression, he had probably died because of fear.
Lestrade had been right. The victim had not even a single bruise on his tanned skin. Sherlock deduced his tan was due to a journey from which he had returned just recently.
"Have you found any items at the crime scene?"
"We found a pocketknife in his jacket, his wallet, an umbrella, his keys and a straw basket. Seems like he was out in the woods searching for mushrooms."
"Can I see his wallet?" Sherlock quickly rummaged through it. He couldn't find anything unusual.
"Do you have any further information?" Sherlock asked Lestrade.
"Not yet. We are currently trying to contact his employer, the British Museum."
Watson was getting more and more impatient. He desperately wanted to find this stupid key!
"I'll call you then. Maybe some news tomorrow." Lestrade saw them off.
Yes! Finally a chance of being released from the handcuffs.
Be prepared to read what "evil" Sherlock is up to next! ;) Poor Watson...
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