Byt the next day, the sky had cleared. It was sunny and fairy warm for the season...Summer's lingering memory in the heart of Autumn.
The office was a good size, with huge windows overlooking the hospital's garden. Two picture frames were on her desk, next to the computer. One was of herself with her mum holding Toby, the photo was taken the day she had adopted her cat from the ASPCA.
The young Director of Pathology looked out of the window. A little girl was sitting in a wheelchair by the fountain, looking at a couple of sparrows taking a bath. Sally, that was her name. She came in with a broken foot she got from a fall playing volley ball, she would be going home tomorrow. Molly often would spend her break in pediatrics', helping out, chatting or reading a story to the children. It cheered them up and helped her, too. She enjoyed spending time with them.
Her eyes fell on Sally's parents. They were standing behind their daughter, looking lovingly at her as she admired the sparrows. Then the father put his arm around the mother and rested his hand on her shoulder, pulling her slightly closer to him; her own arms circled his waist in instinctive response. Molly turned away and got back to work.
The phone rang.
"Doctor Hooper speaking."
"Hello Doctor Hooper!"
"Doctor Paten, what a pleasant surprise!" Molly smiled warmly at her old boss.
"I just wanted to let you know that I will be on my way to Manchester tomorrow in order to discuss something with Doctor Hoffe, so I thought I would like to pop over and say hello, if you're not too busy."
"Oh no, not at all. I look forward it...I hope everything is going well at Barts, Doctor."
"We can't complain: your new replacement is competent and Tom is helping out. Of course it isn't quite the same without you here, your absence is...felt."
There was an awkward silence. He wouldn't say more, nor could she ask.
"Well, thank you for calling, Doctor, but I really need to get back to work."
"Right you are, Molly. I have a meeting with the board now. Oh I miss meeting patients!" He laughed good-naturedly.
When Molly put the phone back down again, her eyes avoided the picture frames as they fixed blindly on the computer screen. Eventually her fingers began to move again, and nothing could be heard but the quiet tapping at the keyboards and the laughter of a family outside.
"I need a liver."
Sherlock affirmed simply, glaring at the new pathologist.
"I can't give you any good ones, those have all been donated." Judy shook her head. "I do have a diseased one though. The previous owner donated his body to the hospital, so I guess it's all right if you take it. He had cirrhosis, would that do?"
The consulting detective looked at the replacement. He supposed some would say she was prettier than Molly, although in a bland, conventional way. She was also adequately capable as a pathologist, and she didn't try to start silly conversations, chatting annoyingly while he was trying to concentrate.
He didn't like her
Sherlock hesitated. "Fine, it will have to do."
"You can come and collect it this afternoon." The replacement smiled politely. She was so pleasant. So accommodating. So simple... His lip curled slightly.
His phone beeped as he received a message.
Rochester Row 15
Urgent.
L
He put the phone back in his pocket and it beeped again.
Now!
L
Sherlock scoffed and walked out of the hospital.
Judy shrugged, expecting that behaviour. When she arrived last week, Molly had spoken to her on the phone and had warned her about him. She had told her that the best thing to do was to pick her battles: give him what he wanted if it could be given, so he would get used to her and accept her as non-threatening to his little world, but be extremely firm with rules so he would know straight from the start that she would not be a pushover.
"I hope you'll do a better job with the second part than I did!" Molly had laughed nervously. Judy didn't push the matter, she wasn't interested in gossip.
Sherlock and John reached a house in Rochester row, buzzing with police men, and found Lestrade pacing nervously near a fresh corpse.
"Tell me what you've got." Was all the DI said, gritting his teeth.
"A woman was there when he died." Sherlock muttered flatly. Lestrade didn't even bother to ask why, knowing the consultant was about to explain "His body has no evident marks on it, except for this." Sherlock pointed at the victim's chest. A small red spot in the shape of a semicircle was at the height of the sternum. "It's somebody's stiletto, pressing down. Not hard enough to kill him, but enough to leave a mark. The fact that blood flowed to it means he was still alive."
"Can you determine the cause of Death?" Lestrade asked, brow furrowed.
Sherlock simply raised the victim's eyelids, revealing the bloodshot eyes, and looked at the DI expectantly. When he didn't reply the consultant sighed in frustration.
"Suffocation or smothering." John muttered softly, understanding. "Lestrade, who was this man?"
Sherlock didn't take his eyes off the heel mark. there was something, something he was missing...But what?
"That man was the newly appointed Ambassador Morwen, he was supposed to leave for the Embassy in Paris Tomorrow."Lestrade's face darkened "And he is the second Ambassador to be killed this week."
Sherlock, John and the new pathologist were in the lab, checking blood and various samples to find any other clues to help solve the case.
"No traces of sumac, either." The replacement sighed, breaking the peaceful two hours of silence.
"Well congratulations for not finding anything. How about you speak only when you have something interesting to say?" Sherlock snapped.
John looked reproachfully at his flatmate. "Thank you, Judy. I need some coffee, would you like some?" He stood, his muscles resentfully punishing him for spending too much time bent over a microscope.
"It's all right, I'll go." The replacement got up and left the room.
"You know, you really could try and make more of an effort to be polite, Sherlock." John reprimanded his friend.
"Why should I?"
"She's nothing you can complain about: she's quiet."
"Follow her example."
"Professional."
"Boring."
"She's new. Take it easy on her, ok?"
"Fine." Sherlock shrugged, indifferent to it all.
Judy came back in with a tray and three cups of coffee.
"Thank you, Doctor Nouveau." Sherlock said stiffly before taking a sip.
It was a perfect cup of coffee. Not too sweet, nice and strong...
He didn't want it anymore.
Sherlock poured the coffee down the drain, purposefully ignoring a small, brown mug, left by the sink, slowly gathering dust.
"Actually, I'd rather have some tea." He muttered.
Author's note:
Hi everyone. I am very busy at work these days, so it is hard for me to update quickly, also because I am posting another story at the same time, so my efforts are doubled! You can thank SammyKatz if I posted today, she asked so nicely!
I hope you like this so far, I would love to know what you think!
Thanks for reading!