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Watson woke up earlier than she wanted, but she was surprised to have slept at all, given the strange visit she'd shared with Sherlock and the supposed vampire, Artemis Merrill. As she lay in bed, hoping to drift back to sleep, she was consumed not with how Artemis had managed to appear vampire-like, but why? Why would a grown woman, trusted and admired by someone like Captain Gregson insist on pursuing this strange persona? Sleepiness was quickly melting away, replaced by a desire for coffee and breakfast. Rain had begun to fall sometime after she went to bed; it was a light, soft rain falling from puffy gray clouds. The forecast had called for clear skies later in the afternoon; she would run then. She dressed warmly in her favorite casual chic black pants, a ruby-colored red sweater, and black boots before going downstairs. She wasn't surprised to see Sherlock up and about, but she was surprised that he appeared to have not slept the rest of the night, given he had gone to bed before her.
Still in the same clothes, Sherlock's hair stood on end and appeared to need a wash; dark shadows lined the areas under his hazel eyes, accentuating the wrinkles in his forehead, as he puzzled over what appeared to be a medical report.
"Good morning, Sherlock," she said. "Ummm…Did you go to bed last night?" She tried to say the words casually. Despite his protestations to the contrary, he became paranoid and grumpy when he was sleep deprived. It was also bad for his recovery efforts and something he did with more frequency than felt comfortable. Maybe it was time for another talk about his schedule? Watson sighed; it was too early to deal with this.
"I did; I had a full 30 minutes, and it was fabulous," said Sherlock, not averting his eyes from the report.
"Okay, then. Coffee?" said Watson as she went into the kitchen.
"Already made, I thought one more cup might bring clarity that the other four cups I've had since 2 A.M. had not. But apparently, that honor belongs to the elusive cup I've yet to drink."
Watson came back moments later with her mug of coffee and a slice of peanut butter toast. She sat down, waiting for Sherlock to bring her up to date. He finally put down the paper, and slumped back in his chair. "So I was having a lovely sleep last night when I woke up upon realizing that I might have the means in my hand to debunk Ms. Merrill's claim of being a vampire…her own tears. I went to the table and was lucky enough to find a few drips that had not yet dried. I collected what I could and took it to the police station. Fortunately it was a fairly quiet night, and the lab technician on duty was willing to put a rush on my request. Unfortunately, I am now more confused than I was before." Sherlock handed her the report.
Watson looked at the results. "Interesting," she said, not wanting to draw any conclusions. She wanted to hear what Sherlock had to say first.
"That's an understatement, Watson," Sherlock said, jumping up. He strode off to the kitchen and returned with his own mug of coffee and a bowl of cereal. Watson wasn't sure, but it looked like Captain Crunch. She cringed inside but calmly continued to eat her peanut butter toast and sip her coffee.
"So my new-found friend, Arthur the technician, performed a test for human blood; it came out negative. He didn't have enough blood to do a traditional CBC, but instead took a look at the blood under the microscope. He found platelets and white blood cells in numbers that are off the charts for a normal human, but no red blood cells, none. As you can see by his notes, he thinks the strange readings were due to contamination. But given what we know, it makes perfect sense. A vampire would not need red blood cells since they don't need oxygen. One could also imagine a creature that doesn't die having lots of what it takes to kill off infections and repair cuts. DNA tests would have taken longer; Arthur suggested the contamination might affect results, so I left." Sherlock ran his hands through his hair and ate several spoons of cereal and took a gulp of coffee. "Not that any of us are exactly prepared to interpret the results, right?"
Watson considered the situation for a moment. "There are other explanations for what happened."
"Yes of course there are, but it would seem reasonable that someone went to some trouble to perpetrate this drama, didn't they?" Sherlock then continued to eat in silence, as did Watson.
Finally, he couldn't contain himself anymore and continued, "It makes no sense, Watson. So I came back here and did some research on Ms. Merrill's background. According to her records, she's a thirty year old woman from Canada who's worked at the morgue for eight years. However, a woman with the same name adopted Adam Rodriguez 24 years ago, right here in New York City. She worked for a mortuary and moved to Canada 10 years ago where she supposedly died in a car crash a year later."
"So the woman we met last night stole Artemis Merrill's identity?"
"No. They have different paper trails. There is no evidence that they are the same person at all; it's just another dead end. I didn't ever think I'd say this, but I'm uncomfortable with this woman, and that is the reason I plan to tell her I will not help her." Sherlock slowed down now, chewing thoughtfully on each spoon of cereal. "It just…confounds me that I can't figure this out."
Watson took another sip of coffee, wondering if there were any words of comfort she could offer to Sherlock who was obviously agitated. "I can't think of a reason any rational person would want to feed into this kind of illusion. I don't think you can figure this out, Sherlock. If she suffers from delusional disorder or some other mental illness…"
Sherlock's phone chimed in, and Sherlock answered.
"Captain Gregson, how can I be of assistance?"
Sherlock's expression went from one of hopefulness to resignation in what must have been less than two minutes. "We'll be there soon," was all he said before hanging up.
"Captain Gregson wants to see us about the deaths Ms. Merrill mentioned last night. He also called to thank me for agreeing to help Ms. Merrill with her 'nephew's problem'. Apparently, my taking the case allows her to avoid a leave of absence and that makes Captain Gregson happy, given that multiple bloodless bodies are piling up in our fair city."
Sherlock stared at Watson intensely for a moment. "This is getting rather complicated. I think I'm going to shower now," and off Sherlock went.
Watson could not have agreed more.
