Hello again…well here we are, chapter 2 and things are intensifying ;) xx Without revealing anything else, on with the story… xx
Arriving at the top of the Whitechapel district, Detective Inspector Lestrade handed his driver the small amount of money due before approaching the scene. Several officers were already keeping people back and Lestrade could immediately tell it was out of the ordinary. He had been informed of a training could have prepared him for what he was about to see. A woman, mid-late 30's, was lying on her front, her skirts raised and a large pool of blood swimming around her. Lestrade turned to a young officer.
"Get Holmes…I don't care what it takes, I need him here…NOW!"
The young officer nodded enthusiastically and turned around, running towards Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes was well known around and often helped the police with their enquiries, even if it was against regulations. The young officer didn't stop until he reached the 221, panting and wheezing as he hauled himself up the stairs. The landlady smiled as she allowed him entry and he removed his hat. He paused outside flat B and listened to the voices.
"'ave an 'eart, sir. That's some good information, that is…"
The officer heard a deep sigh followed by the shuffling of feet.
"Yes, and I have paid you kindly. Keep up the good work and there is plenty more where that came from…away with you…"
"Thank ya, sir…goodbye ma'am…"
The door swung open and a scruffy looking boy hurried out, mumbling an apology to the officer before disappearing into the street. Sherlock rose to his feet and sighed, gesturing for the officer him to come inside. He swivelled his eyes around; the Doctor was reading the paper and Mrs. Holmes was lounging on her favourite chair, an annoyed expression on her face. Sherlock paced the room and spoke quickly.
"What is it?"
The officer, momentarily star-struck, cleared his throat and fiddled with his hat.
"A vicious murder, sir, the Inspector requested your presence immediately…"
Sherlock frowned and shook his head. John looked over the top of his paper and Sarah frowned.
"Hmmm…vicious, you say? I am not entirely sure my abilities will be fully appreciated…"
"No, please, sir…I know Whitechapel is far, but-"
"Whitechapel?"
The officer nodded and blinked in confusion as Sherlock's face lit up, a smile illuminating the entire room. John cleared his throat in an attempt to remind him of the situation and Sarah frowned even deeper. Sherlock licked his lips and spun around facing the officer.
"Lead the way, Officer…?"
"Uh…Johnson, sir. Benjamin Johnson…"
Sherlock nodded and gestured for John to join him. He approached the door and pulled on his jacket; John rose to his feet with a sigh and straightened his waistcoat, also taking his jacket. Sarah cleared her throat and adjusted herself, sticking her chest out and batting her eyelashes.
"I am sure the Inspector will understand this once, dear. Why don't you stay with your loving wife, the doctor can go…"
Sarah waved a hand towards John and displayed her most seductive pout. Sherlock rolled his eyes and pulled the door open, pushing the two men out of the door before him.
"My dear…uh…Sarah, you would not want stop the capture of a vicious murderer would you? I shall return soon…"
He shot her a fake smile and followed the men from the room and Sarah huffed when the door shut on her. Next time, Sherlock Holmes...next time. Sarah smiled to herself and rose to dress, twirling approached a cart and John lowered his voice to Sherlock.
"Why did you take the case when you found out where it was?"
Sherlock shrugged with a small smirk and John sighed. Soon enough, they arrived in Whitechapel and Lestrade waved them over. Sherlock strolled confidently forwards, John hesitating behind him and Lestrade greeted them with a sharp swallow and wince.
"Thanks for coming…I ought to warn you, it's not pleasant…according to the crowd, she was a local…erm, 'working girl' who called herself Jane…"
Sherlock nodded and John took a deep breath, cautiously stepping through the crowd. Sherlock frowned, crouching by the body with a magnifying glass in his hands. John, Lestrade, the other officers and the crowd watched as he darted around the body muttering to himself. When he finally straightened up and turned around, the other officers quickly returned to holding the crowd back. Sherlock rolled his eyes and gestured for them to come over.
"Doctor Watson, your expertise, if you please…"
John groaned as he too, crouched over the body, his eyes examining the wounds on her body. After a considerable amount of time, he straightened up and took a deep breath.
"She has multiple wounds to her abdomen, deep jagged gashes, I believe as well as two clean slices across her throat. Near instant death…I would stake my reputation that the wounds to her lower body occurred after death…"
Sherlock nodded and clasped his hands behind his back, walking around the body. He pointed to her skirts and tapped his chin in thought.
"She was sexually assaulted…that much is evident but the sheer brutality is most puzzling. Why murder an innocent prostitute?"
John buried his face in his hands and took several steps back and Lestrade shook his head, glancing behind him at the depleting crowd. He rubbed the back of his neck and John folded his arms as Sherlock spun around several times on the spot before smirking.
"I suggest, the best thing to do, is transport her to the mortuary…I can take a closer look there. In the meantime, conduct your investigations. Whitechapel is notorious for its gossip and its close community…maybe someone saw something…"
Sherlock was moving away from them as he spoke, his pace quickening with every word he spoke. Lestrade blinked in confusion before yelling in Sherlock's direction.
"Where are you going?"
"To conduct my own 'ivestigations'."
He turned the corner and disappeared leaving the Doctor and Inspector feeling very confused. Lestrade huffed in frustration as he waved his team over and headed towards the pub, John following his steps.
Sherlock straightened his jacket and ruffled his hair as he tapped the heavy door. There was a shuffling before it was pulled open and a young maidservant was standing in the glamorous archway. Sherlock raised an eyebrow as she straightened her uniform.
"Begging your pardon, sir. I am afraid Miss Hooper is very busy and-"
"It is quite alright, I am an old friend…has Mr. Jones left for work?"
Sherlock had only just managed to hide his smirk as the young maid merely nodded, standing aside. This will be interesting, to say the least. She gestured upstairs and fiddled with her hands, awkwardly.
"I was just going to assist Miss Hooper with her dressing...um, you could-"
"That is quite enough…I shall assist Miss Hooper, I am sure there is something more useful you could be doing…"
The maid blinked in confusion before she gave a small curtsey and hurried towards the kitchen. A voice sounded from upstairs, kindly and sweet.
"I am ready, Patricia. There is no need to assist me…despite what Thomas thinks, I can dress myself…just hand me my lovely new dress and I'll do the rest…"
Sherlock smirked to himself and looked around before licking his lips and slowly climbing the stairs.
Lestrade scanned the nearly empty pub as John glanced around awkwardly. He approached the bar and removed his badge, speaking in an authoritative voice.
"Excuse me, sir…I'm Detective Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard and this is Doctor Watson…I'd like to ask you some questions…"
The barman glanced between the two men and placed the glass he was cleaning on the bar. He frowned and leaned against the wood, nodding at the two men.
"We are investigating a murder that took place not very far from your establishment…we were wondering if you heard or saw anything out of the ordinary, last night?"
The barman shrugged, his eyes swivelling between the two men.
"I keep myself to myself, sir…"
Lestrade narrowed his eyes and John cleared his throat, stepping forwards.
"That's all very well…but is there anything at all suspicious you noticed last night…"
The barman smiled and bit his lip before shrugging. Lestrade felt the similar feeling of regret fall into his stomach.
"There might be…'cept the thing is, sir...I ain't paid very much for what I do…know what I mean?"
Lestrade reached into his pocket and removed a small bag and tossed it at the barman, scowling in his direction. The barman picked it up and tutted slightly before pocketing it.
"Alright, now talk…"
The barman thought about pushing his luck but the Inspector didn't appear to be in the mood. He sighed and picked up the glass again.
"Well…I don't know nothing about a murder, but this woman…an 'ore, I think, came in about eleven and started shouting 'er mouth off…I thought nothing of it but that's all I know."
Lestrade sighed and John frowned, shifting uncomfortably and turning to leave. The barman let out an exclamation, suddenly.
"Oh, hang on…there's something else, actually…I'm not sure it'll 'elp but it's worth it, right? You look like you need all the 'elp you can get."
Sherlock carefully pushed the door open quietly and slipped in the room. He noticed her dress on the large bed and two thoughts ran through his mind. Hmmm…you could hand her the dress and insist on 'dressing' her OR approach her and…well, you decide the rest for yourself. Sherlock supressed a shiver as he picked up the gown, moving silently towards the wooden screen she was standing behind. He flung the dress over the top and Molly jumped, chuckling to herself.
"Oh, thank you, Patricia…I didn't hear you come in…"
Sherlock bit his lip as he ducked behind the screen. Molly shrugged and pulled the dress over the top, flicking her hair over her shoulders. Sherlock held his breath, his heart pounding uncontrollably.
"Thomas has a hard day ahead of him today…father is taking him to Mycroft to discuss business. Important, so I'm told…I just hope he doesn't run into the younger Holmes', dashing though he may be, he's a piece of work…"
Molly couldn't keep in her giggle and Sherlock couldn't resist any longer. He jumped to his feet and moved around the screen, his heart stopping as he realised she hadn't finished dressing yet. Sherlock smirked as he approached her slowly, gazing at her bare back. He gently placed his hands on her waist; Molly jumped from the contact but relaxed with a smile when she realised who it was.
"Hmmm…no corset, my lady?"
His voice was right next to her ear, his breath tickling her neck softly. She shivered as she noticed how low he was speaking. Molly bit her lip before managing to nod her head.
"Mmm, I don't like them…they're much too tight. I prefer to…just forget about them…"
Sherlock smirked as he leaned in closer, grazing his lips across her shoulders and slowly caressing her soft skin. He murmured softly against her as he spoke.
"Did you hear or see anything unusual last night?"
Molly shook her head, too breathless to speak and turned to face him, suddenly. They stood facing each other, staring into each other's eyes for a moment before Molly gave a sad smile.
"How is Sarah?"
Sherlock wrinkled his nose in disgust and shook his head.
"Utterly repulsive…her attempts at seduction are futile, she tries her hardest to illicit a response from me…but you, you do not need to try at all."
Molly blinked and her lips parted as Sherlock reached up and placed his hand on her cheek, stroking lightly. Sherlock took a deep breath and gave a light shake of his head.
"Sarah can buy every new piece of cloth on the market and parade around in it all day if she wishes…but the second you called me 'sir', I knew I would never be hers…"
Molly blinked rapidly for a moment before placing her hands on his chest. Sherlock rested his against her back and brought them up to her shoulders, pushing the heavy dress away slowly. The doors to the bedroom swung open and Sherlock ducked quickly. Thomas strode over to the bed, his back to the separator as Molly shrugged her dress back over her shoulders, trying to rid her flustered look.
"It's ghastly out there today…the whole street has been sectioned off. A woman has been murdered apparently. They were saying Sherlock Holmes was there…that he examined her! Can you imagine what that must have been like?"
Molly was nodding and she gasped when she felt Sherlock hoisting up her skirts, placing delicate soft kisses up her leg as he went…very slowly. Um…yes, actually. Molly's hands wound into his hair as she bit her lip tightly…but that didn't stop a moan from escaping. Thomas looked up from his papers and turned around.
"Are you alright, darling?"
Molly's eyes snapped open and her skirts fell to the floor as Sherlock backed away. Molly understood why now…Thomas was approaching her with a worried expression on his face. Sherlock turned the corner as Thomas embraced his fiancée, much less tenderly than Sherlock had only moments ago. He kissed her cheek and moved to do up her dress.
"Where is Patricia? I thought she was supposed to do this?"
Sherlock, who had been watching them with a pained expression, caught Molly's eye and winked before quietly leaving. Molly smiled widely before shrugging, her heart still hammering from Sherlock's touch.
"Well, then…what did you see?"
The barman coughed slightly as he looked around the bar.
"Well…I'm not sure it's much 'elp, but only moments before the woman showed up, there was someone 'anging around the end of the street. Real terrifying looking, 'e was…a proper presence about 'im. I'd never seen 'im before and 'e was just standing there, watching…staring, really…"
Lestrade glanced towards John and cleared his throat, removing his notes. Lestrade swallowed sharply before addressing the man once more.
"Did you get a good look at him?"
The barman nodded, licking his lips slightly.
"Oh yeah, sir…'e was tall, very tall and very thin, well-dressed, young, 'andsome as the ladies were telling me, proper sharp cheekbones, they were saying…and 'e 'ad curly black 'air…sorry, that's all I remember…"
Lestrade nodded as John finished scribbling the notes, his expression changing from awkward to that of horror. Lestrade gave the bartender a weak smile of gratitude and he and John left the establishment. Once in the street, Lestrade turned to John, both feeling shocked now.
"That sounded a lot like…"
John shook his head, thinking to himself. No, Sherlock was at that party with Mycroft and the Hoopers'. He couldn't have…he didn't.
The plot thickens as they say…I hope you liked that chapter ;) Sorry about the length again, there was a lot to go in this one, lol :D xx Thank you so much for reading, there's plenty more to come. Stay tuned, back soon xx
