Just as-Eliza thought- they were about to park in front of the flat, Anthea tapped on the back of the driver's seat, leaned forward and whispered something to the driver which made him continue driving down the road. This made Eliza confused as she stared back at the flat and how further away they were going.

"We've been told by Mr Holmes that Sherlock isn't currently at the flat, nor is John or Mrs Hudson. So I've been given instructions to take you to Sherlock's location." said Anthea, who pushed her phone back into her pocket.

"Well, why can't I just stay in the flat? I'll be alright, I know where they keep the gun." said Eliza, as Anthea looked at her with amusement, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I can assure you that Ms Holmes. I've not been told why you can't stay at the flat, I've only been told that you mustn't-under any circumstances- be left alone at the flat, or anywhere else for that matter."

At first, Eliza was very suspicious of her father's behaviour but remembered quickly that a psychopath was probably watching the flat as they speak, so she decided that it was wise to not be left alone, "So where are you taking me then? Back to Mycroft's?"

"Good gracious no." she said, saying the last word longer than needed, "Your father is too busy with other important matters. He suggested that we take you to Sherlock and John. It's not far away from here, around 10 minutes left before we get there."

"And what is 'where' if I might ask?"

"41 Southport Street. Surely you must have heard Mr Holmes talk about it before you left for college, after he was called to visit the scene. Remember, was he and I quote from Mycroft: 'running around the house chanting murder'?"

"Yeah, but he always does that." she said plainly. However, the mention of an address and a crime only meant that Sherlock was at a crime scene. "Wait, so he's at a crime scene? But I thought I was banned after that thing I said to that Ander-something bloke?"

"I've been told what you said to Mr Anderson and I can assure you, that is the least that's been said to him. Also after days of persuasion, your father was able to let you visit crime scenes under supervision from Mr Watson." Anthea stopped and reached for her phone again, then added, "Also I've been informed that Mr Anderson is working at the scene today, if you would like to know."

This should be fun, Elizabeth thought. The last time she saw Anderson was when she said-as she remembered- 'you make me sick'. To her, that was one of the highlights of that day, as she rarely got to speak her mind to anybody. The faces that people made that day was also a highlight; she also remembered Sherlock's expression: a mix of shock and humour.

So if she was to go to the crime scene like Anthea told her, then-she told herself- she should stay on her best behaviour as she was to go to other crime scenes. But remembering back to what Anderson called her that day, there was a fat chance of keeping on her best behaviour.

The case sounded rather interesting- Elizabeth thought, as the car was pulling up outside the crime scene- when Sherlock explained it, before he left the house that morning. A woman had been shot in the head inside her own home; when the police got a call from a worried neighbour about noises, they tried to enter the house, but only to discover that the doors had been barricaded with most of the furniture in the house.

This could only mean that either: a) she barricaded the doors before shooting herself. However the problem with that was there was no gun discovered in the crime scene, so it was impossible. The other option was that the murderer barricaded the doors and then shot her, but how could they have left the house and was able to barricade the doors from the outside? She wondered how Sherlock was taking this case.

One of Mycroft's men walked round the car and opened the door for Eliza, who happily left the car with her bag without receiving a 'goodbye' or even a 'good luck' from Anthea. When she took a step outside, the man took her place in the seat and the car drove off without even any explanation on where she should go or wait.

Instead, she decided to pay a visit to Sherlock inside so ignored all the baffled police officers looking at her and walked under the blue and white tape and entered the house, not waiting for anyone to tell her off. Surprisingly, nobody stopped her; maybe because they knew about her from John's blog.

Inside the house was rather cosy, considering it's been cold outside. It was true what Sherlock said, all the furniture had been blocking all the entrances, except the front door had been cleared of furniture for people to walk past. Many people in plastic suits and light green coats walked past her, not caring if they were barging into her sides. Eventually, standing at the doorway made her angrier so moved out of the way and walked up the stairs.

The room where the murder must have happened was lit with lamps from Scotland Yard and centred on one corner of the room. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Sherlock pacing back and forth in the small room who was- shockingly- not talking or making any deductions. The only sound coming from that room was the steps he was making.

Feeling pity for him- although she would never say that to him- she walked across the landing and stood at the side of the doorway and leaned her whole body to one side, crossing her arms across her chest, "And you said this would be easy."

All the people in the room turned to look at her- including Sherlock- and then to one another. Lestrade suddenly appeared from behind the door with John, who both looked happy to see her.

"Thank god your here. We need all the help we can get." said Lestrade, who was ushering her into the room, "I haven't seen you in months-"

"We don't need her help." said Sherlock, returning his gaze to the floor, "There's just something I'm missing. I'll find soon."

"Ignore him, he's just in a bad mood-" said John, "-as usual. We've been here for hours. Anyway, I thought you were in college today." he asked, but when she looked to the floor shyly, he took it as a sign, "Again? Really Eliza? Did Mycroft say anything?"

"He just said I need to get a couple of things sorted...and something else. Which is why I'm here you see and not at the flat." she braced herself-taking a deep breath- and made a start to explain, "You see, there's someone-"

"Shut up! Just shut up! I need to think! Anderson, turn your back." said Sherlock, who was now crouching down next to the body and placed his hands in a praying position.

"He isn't here." replied Lestrade, who looked at John and Eliza with puzzlement.

"Not in this room, but he's been listening in the landing. I know the steps he makes when he wants to say something," he said. This time, he spoke louder and addressed the door, "Anderson. Could you turn you back, or better in fact, leave the building."

"Why should I?" said Anderson, who appeared inside the room, "If you are really that great at solving crimes, then I shouldn't put you off then."

This two-person argument continued between Sherlock and Anderson, which was then joined by Lestrade and John. All four were distracted with something far less important than a murder, so she decided that this was her time to 'show off' again, not that she was complaining.

Inside the room was a basic bed, drawers and a desk, which were placed near the door. Looking down at the floorboards, the furniture must have been blocking the door before they were moved because of the scratches. The woman was sat still in the corner of the room with her head down, facing the floor. From looking at the rest of her house-including her bedroom- she guessed that this woman was rather young, as she had little furniture to go by. This could also mean-Eliza thought- that she had just finished University or was a nineteen year old who wanted to move out of her parent's house as soon as possible.

What was weird about the body was that there wasn't a 'rotting corpse' smell in the air. It's as if she was murdered today; not days or weeks ago.

However, Sherlock was right: there was something missing and the solution was in the room. It wasn't until she looked above the body and the surface of the walls when she figured it out. Even though it was a new house, the wallpaper looked years old. Walking up to the wall, she rested the side of her head onto it and placed her hands on either side of her. After a while of standing, she gently knocked on the wall and then moved to the other side of the room to knock on the other walls. Finally, she had come to a conclusion.

"Oi! Shut up for a minute!" she shouted at the four adults, who stopped shouting and turned to look at her, "Did any of you check the walls?" All of them looked at her with perplexity, except for Sherlock, who looked like his brains were about to explode from too much thinking, she continued, "I just ask because how can somebody murder a person in a barricaded room, unless there was another entrance." she walked up to Anderson and quickly took a pair of gloves from his pocket before he could protest.

When she put them on, she walked over to the body and moved her away from the wall. The woman was fairly heavy, but was able to drag her a few inches out of the way. There were sounds of gasping as she messed the crime scene, but when she shot them glances, they quickly shut up. Again, she knocked on the wall and this time; and then she heard the sound of Sherlock coming to sudden realisation.

"Of course!" he said, joining her side, "It's obvious!"

"I'm sorry to interrupt this child talk-" said Anderson, addressing Eliza, "But what's obvious?"

"Actually Anderson, can you please shut up for a second? Sherlock. I'm too small, do you see where the wallpaper hasn't been stuck on properly? Can you peel it back until it hits the floor?" she asked.

At first, he hesitated-his hands still above the wallpaper- but then when he felt it was the right time, he grabbed hold of the wallpaper and pulled it back with one quick tug. Everybody stepped back when behind the wallpaper revealed a door shaped archway which also looked like it was covered with wallpaper; on their side there was still traces of glue on it.

"The glue's still wet in some places. There's no corpse smell. This happened today." she turned to look at the stunned detective inspector, "What time did you say the man next door called about 'noises'?"

"This morning. Just before 10'o clock. He's still outside." he said. A pocket knife appeared from his pocket as he walked over to the wallpaper. With one swift movement, he used the knife to cut the wallpaper, which revealed the next door neighbours bedroom. Inside the room was empty, except for a chair that faced the wall, a couple of newspaper clippings scattered on the floor and a gun- the murder weapon- with bullets on the side that was perched on the chair.

Eliza looked proudly at the gun and finished her speech, "These houses were once one before the owner decided to turn them into two to rent to people. The owner now lives on this side, the side with the gun. He knew this archway existed. You couldn't find fingerprints because he used gloves. There's powder burns on her hands because he shot her twice: one with his hand, the next with hers in the same point in her head. I'm sorry, I don't know why he killed this woman, maybe the clippings will tell you that."

"There all linked with suicides." interrupted Sherlock, who walked towards the newspaper articles to pick them up, "All the suicides have been caused by a shot to the head. This is a man who is in his late 40s-"

"Who recently had a sister-" said Eliza, as she was catching onto Sherlock's deductions, "who committed suicide this way. When he rented out the other house to someone, maybe he had somebody in mind that looked like his sister. Maybe this woman reminded him of her sister and felt like he should continue this sort of ritual? I saw this in a film once. I don't get why murderers do this, but it's a bit obvious, don't you agree? 'Oh hey,'" she said, mocking the murderers voice, "' I'll kill all these women who look like my sister and kill them the same way as my sister killed herself. But don't worry. I didn't kill them'."

She looked at everyone: the captivation in Sherlock's eye, the way John looked amused by it all, how Lestrade looked relieved and how Anderson looked like he was going to scratch his eyes out. This was why she missed going to crime scenes.

As she walked towards the door-making sure to give Anderson a steady glare which read 'don't you say a word'- she turned back to look at Sherlock and John and asked them all in a blunt tone, "Fancy going to Angelo's?"

Author's Note: Thank you for reading :) I'm sorry that I'm not uploading this every two/three days, I might upload the next chapter tomorrow or the next day just to see how it goes :)