CRime SCENE PHOTOs
John watched it happen, all in unsettling slow motion, one minute Molly is being pulled into the stairwell by a man in a black ski mask, the next the two were tumbling down the hard cement steps, he heard Molly's sudden cry of surprise and she disappeared under the larger man.
They rolled and slid, coming to a heart stopping halt just at the second level, the bastard in the hoodie jumped up he looked down at the motionless pathologist then back to the two men perusing him, and bolted for the door.
"John! She needs a Doctor! Give me the Browning!" Sherlock caught the Doctor's shoulder, without a second thought the blond handed the gun over, and pulling his mobile, he called emergency services and then Lestrade.
He knew it wouldn't take paramedics much time to arrive seeing as they were after all in the same damn building. He heard the slamming of the heavy door making him jump, the sound like gunshots echoing up the near empty stairwell.
"Molly?" John knew better than to move her, but an alarming amount of blood was pooling under her head. A hand to her pulse told him she was alive, he exhaled.
"Molly?" John pulled his black jacket off, she groaned her eyes blinking unfocused. "Oh, god. Molly, there you are, stay awake now. Help is on the way. No, no lay still." John felt a mixture of relief and concern, when she rolled to her back, her legs were moving, good, no spinal injury, he caught sight of a rather nasty gash just above her forehead at the hairline. Pressing a handkerchief firmly but carefully to halt the bleeding. "Where the hell are those damn medics." He growled to no one but himself.
He tried to keep her from still so as not to aggravate any other unseen injuries. "Molly you'll be fine. It's going to be alright. I need to check for any other injuries. I'm sorry if this hurts. Please remain still, it's important you not move." Eyes still wide and searching, unfocused, he didn't know if she could hear him or understand what was going on, that head injury worried him more, her none response to her name, the dilated pupils, the more he looked the more the bruising starting to dot and line her too pale skin.
Balling up his coat and placing it gently under her head for support, the ex army Doctor started to examine his friend for further injury, his voice bounced off the walls of the stairwell, gently explaining what he was searching for. Reassuring her help was on the way, and always he remained alert and calm.
Sweet relief flooded the ex army Doctor when paramedics arrived, he quickly updated them to her condition.
"What the hell happened?" Lestrade burst through the stairwell doors moving past the crime scene photographer, he had passed the paramedics in the corridor.
"Some man in a ski mask attacked Molly, that's all I know. He was trying to get her into the stairwell, probably had a car waiting in the garage, Sherlock went after him.
"He got away." Sherlock's voice cut them off. He entered panting, his face held a look of sheer irritation. "I lost him in the garage."
"I'll have my men search it."
Sherlock glanced down at the pool of blood, on the last step, John caught how the corner of his friends lip twitched.
"Molly?" John caught the edge in Sherlock's normally composed voice.
"Looks like a sprang in her wrist and a few cracked ribs, a scan will let us know for sure. She'll definitely need stitches."
Sherlock didn't say anything else he pushed past Lestrade and John careful to avoid the blood, nearly knocking over the same crime scene photographer who threw his hands up, standing back shaking his head, completely ignored by the other two men following the dark haired consulting detective.
"They are wasting their time Lestrade he had gloves on, a black hoodie and ski mask, even the jeans he wore were black, I suppose John you didn't notice the blue shoe covers he was wearing? They were disposable. He was here in the lab looking for something. Molly was just a happy surprise for him, he wasn't anticipating anyone being here. And as I said he was careful. He probobly was excited to have his fifth victim, have your men concentrate in a mile radius of the last dump site, it's his pattern to leave them within a mile of each other near in a park frequented by joggers and the like."
"He's mocking us at this point." John growled. "How he manages to dump a body in the park without being noticed."
"People are idiots John, they rarely observe they only see what they want."
"So we are sure she wasn't a target?" The DI was looking around the dark morgue; John flicked the lights on, while Sherlock scanned the area.
"No. It doesn't seem so. Although she does fit conveniently the victim type, same height and weight, even hair color. It was dark so he wouldn't know for sure her eye color. Look around he was searching for something, something on the bodies or collected from them. What?"
John new better than to interrupt, he glance around the room several instruments had been knocked over, but other than that nothing was disturbed. He did notice something small and yellow near the cooler doors, a flower petal; the yellow was so out of place in the sterile surroundings.
Lestrade barked into his phone, directing Sergeant Donovan to have uniformed officers patrol the parks within the selected area, John briefly wondered just where the Sergeant was, and Anderson for that matter, wait scratch that he didnt want to know.
"Sherlock." John called out, "What kind of flower did you say it was-" the dark haired detective moved quickly pulling his magnifying glass out, examining the single wilted petal curled into itself on the freshly mopped tile. John recalled their earlier findings, all victims in this case had traces of pollen, either in their hair or on their clothes.
"Why would this be here?" The consulting detective carefully picked up the velvety clue, it was rare for the sunflower this time of year.
"It's possible he dropped it when he was here." DI Lestrade offered.
"No. He is too careful. He would have been sure not to carry evidence with him. It was already here perhaps." Sherlock needed more data, he started for the lab, glancing up to see the observation blinds were closed.
Once Sherlock pulled the labs heavy door open he halted blocking the doorway, forgetting the Doctor and Inspector were right on his heels, the Doctor nearly ran into him, the Inspector swore under his breath both men peered around the thin consulting detective.
"Jesus!" Lestrade pulled his mobile from his pocket. "I'll get forensics in here, so I'm giving you five minutes."
"ten." Sherlock snapped.
John shook his head, the room was a mess, everything turned over, his friend had been right(no surprise there) someone was looking for something, the garbage bins were pulled out the small file cabinet in the corner and desk had been gone through as well.
Molly's purse remained untouched, so their killer wasn't a thief just a psychopathic murderer, well that's interesting.
Right away John noted the computer sitting on Molly's small work area desk had a cracked monitor.
"He searched the computers and didn't find what he was looking for. Then the file cabinet" Sherlock explained, finding another sunflower petal near the edge of the small desk, Molly's desk.
"Looks like he did track them in." John pointed out, careful not to disturb the mess of paper and empty bins.
"Wait." Sherlock suddenly stood up. "Oh, he's smart, he's a definitely a smart one! Well at least he thinks he's clever." Clapping his hands together, his eyes lit up and John could hear Lestrade curse under his breath. No one was in the mood.
"Sherlock just come out with it." Lestrade growled, John could see the long nights chasing this serial killer was starting to wear on the DI.
"Look around. Molly would have heard this kind of destruction, everything has been flipped over and emptied out."
"So."
"So, there were two of them."
"What how?" Lestrade was frowning hands on his hips. Sherlock pointed at the closed blinds.
"Molly always keeps these open it's for student observations. She only closes them at the end of the night. We know due to the fact that her personal affects are here that she never made it this far. Someone didn't think she would be here. When he noticed the morgue was far from empty, one moved quietly into the morgue below, while the other searched here, and closing the blinds. Obviously the idiots thought Molly wasn't a threat.
He would have heard us and waited, slipping out unnoticed."
Lestrade nodded taking it in, making quick notes his mobile pressed to his ear, rapidly giving orders, "I want everything photographed and cataloged! Nothing is touched, moved or cleaned until the scene is cleared by me."
Sherlock hovered on the toes of his shoes, his eyes wildly taking the room in, something was wrong, all wrong but he didn't know what.
"We are done here John. Lestrade I'll be at the security desk. If you can call it that, for all the use it has been tonight."
"I've already made that call, they'll expect you. Molly is in room 430, I've sent uniforms to stand guard outside." Sherlock gave a short nod of approval, sweeping past the unshaven DI. "Sherlock. John-"
Both men halted hearing the sudden authoritative tone, "Keep me updated. I mean it. No matter how small of a detail. No running off on your own, not on this one. It's going to take all of us." Sherlock's gray eyes held the DI's dark ones. "Inspector say hello to Molly for us. We'll be up shortly."
"Who says I-" The DI shook his head, two officers and a crime scene photographer entered, he needed to focus on them. "Alright boys, take your time, I don't have to remind you to be thorough. I want to know who these bastards are."