A/N: I don't own any of the Elementary characters and I am not making any money from writing this.

Please forgive any minor spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.

Joan found Sherlock in one of the workrooms at the precinct. He was sitting at the desk, in front of the bunch of opened files, photographs and reports scattered around. She sighed and sat at the desk, opposite to him.

"Busy?", she commented.

Sherlock looked up briefly. "Pelts. George was working on their murder."

He pushed one of the photographs on the desk toward her. It featured a young, smiling Caucasian couple of average height and weight. The man had short brown hair and brown eyes. Woman who he had embraced had short blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Howard and Stephanie Pelt, both twenty seven. Multiple mentions of the case in the date book, some remaining info on his work computer, but not a single trace of it in the file cabinet, George's home or in the archive. I believe that the missing file was about that case", he explained. "A young, rich couple. Found dead in their home by a family friend. They had been murdered the day before. Most of valuables stolen, home valut unlocked, opened and emptied." Joan put the photograph down and picked up one of the reports. Sherlock continued. "Two hundred thousand dollars in damage total, estimated. No foreign fingerprints, DNA evidence, no witnesses, nothing."

"The killer somehow convinced them to let him inside, then tasered them both", Joan concluded. "He bind them to the chairs and beat them both until they revealed the location and combination of then home valut. He then killed them both by a single gunshot wound to the head-Smith&Wesson .38, never found, no match in IBIS-took what he came for and left."

Sherlock put another photograph on the desk in front of Joan. It featured red Ford driving down the street at night, the licence plate clearly readable.

"A traffic camera videotaped the car speeding near the crime scene at the night of the murder", he continued before placing the mugshot of the young brown hair Caucasian man near the one of his car. "Licence plates identified the owner as Carl Day, twenty eight, arrested multiple times before for possession of a controlled substance and theft." Sherlock leaned back in his chair. "He was arrested, his home and car searched. Ropes found in his basement matched to the ones used to bind the victims. No other evidence linking him to the murder has been found. No bloody clothing, stolen money and/or valuables, no murder weapon, nothing. He claimed that he had just happened to drive by the murder scene that night and that he had found the ropes at the side of the road." He took a deep breath. "They found marijuana in his house, so he will spend a few years in prison at least, but the prevailing opinion was, and still is, that there is no sufficient evidence linking him to the murders. George Arrow was working on the case, building a drug case against Carl as well as trying to find ways to charge him for murder." He looked over the case elements on the desk. "Of course, now we still have access to the police reports and forensic evidence, but not to George's theories and appeals, with the case file and his laptop gone." He bit at his lower lip. "I am trying to see a bigger picture, but nothing useful here."

Joan frowned, picking up one of the papers. "According to this, Carl's only surviving family is his younger sister, Lydia. Also his only visitor." She frowned. "And quite a regular one."

"One more thing", Sherlock exclaimed. He handed several copies of letters and envelopes to Joan.

"George Arrow had been receiving many threatening letters", he informed her. "This stand out. Especially vicious, frequent. Apparently, he never thought of those as serious enough to file a report. I do." Joan observed the copies closely. Sherlock frowned. "So far, I've been able to deduce that the killer is a right handed man, native of Long Island."

#

Within half an hour, Sherlock and Joan were standing in Lydia Day's living room. The pretty young brunette grimaced as she walked around the couch closer to them. She was dressed in pink T-shirt and blue jeans. There was an armchair opposite to the couch, and the TV set in the other end of the room.

"That is so horrible", Lydia said. "I heard about it on the news."

"So, you knew mr. Arrow?", Sherlock asked.

"He was building the case against my brother", Lydia answered calmly. "The murder case. We talked about that a few times."

Sherlock nodded his head, looking around. She had a nice view to the neighborhood. "You must have been... upset with him", he questioned. "In a way."

"Not really", Lydia said calmly. "Carl and I weren't that close. If he did such a thing, he still has to pay."

"You've been visiting him quite regularly", Joan pointed out.

Lydia glared at her. "Yes, because he is my brother after all and he's going through the tough time. That doesn't mean that he doesn't have to be punished." She sighed and looked down at the floor for a moment. "Though, to be honest, I didn't think that he would be capable of something like that. I still don't." She pouted. "I was hoping that mr. Arrow would come to realize that."

"Where were you today between eight and eleven pm?", Sherlock asked.

"I spent the night at my boyfriend's house", she answered. "Alan Newman. I can give you his contact info." She crossed her arms over her chest. "And if you are interested, the police checked my alibi for Pelt's murders too. I was on a vacation in Florida."

Sherlock and Joan exchanged a look.

#

Carl looked pretty much the same like he had when he hadn't lived in prison: messy brown hair, deep brown eyes, square jaw. He glared at Sherlock and Joan through the bullet proof glass suspiciously, his fingers wrapping tightly around the phone.

"My sister and I grew up together. Went to school together." He grimaced. "Got abused together." He smirked. "But she would never murder for me." His face turned more serious. "Neither could I ever murder anyone, directly or indirectly."

"Except those two innocent people few months ago", Sherlocj pointed out. "At least."

Carl sighed, looking away. "How many times do I have to tell you this, I was at home when that happened, watching a football game on TV", he hissed.

"Too bad there's no one to confirm that", Joan taunted.

"I guess it was also my fault for living alone and not going to work on Sunday." He gulped.

Joan tilted her head to the sight. "Before you drove by the murder scene for a few minutes that night?"

Charles sighed. "I have nothing to do with any of that. Just ask my sister. I'm just not that... caliber." He stood up. "CO, the door!", he yelled and looked away before the CO came and escorted him back to his cell.

Joan groaned. "Well, this was useless."

"Not useless at all", Sherlock sighed, his face lightening up. "He may not be guilty of this murder, but I think we can tie him to the original two. I think he hid the stolen idoms, possibly even the murder weapon, on his workplace."

"What makes you say that?", Joan asked.

"He talked a lot about his life and the night of the murder, his sister, but barely at all about his job", Sherlock explained. "He mentioned it once and I think that was a slip of the tongue. He grinded his teeth after mentioning it and gulped sometime later." "He worked as a construction worker at the time of his arrest. Police searched his current workplace and a few previous, now abandoned ones, but found nothing and gave up on that lead. But it turns out, many of the projects that he worked on are finished, only the object aren't in function yet. I'll inform captain Gregson, tell him to set up a search. One more violent psychopath put behind the bars for a long time."

"And now, there's Susan."

Sherlock glanced at her. "You still think that she is guilty?"

"Well, I don't really see a better theory by this point". Joan cried.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of Sherlock's ringtone going off. He pulled out his phone and quickly read the email that he had received.

"Speaking about her, the forensic report", he read. "No foreign fingerprints in George's house. No foreign DNA, except for the one extracted from the traces of vaginal fluid found on the bed sheets and the identical one extracted from the few blonde hairs found in the shower drain. It doesn't match to Susan. All the alibies so far check out, including Susan. But of course, nobody can vertify for every minute of her time spent in that crowd of people. Mr. Arrow's house was merely twenty miles away. Still, the parole device data seems to confirm her story. Tough to trick that. By the way, captain Gregson put up a surveillance on her. People in charge didn't spot anything suspicious during the two hours they were following her. It was then that she noticed them, called the precinct and threatened to sue everyone. So, that option is out too."

Joan's face fell. "So, what are we going to do now?"

Sherlock thought long and hard about that, looking in front of himself. "I don't know." He turned to face Joan. "We may have to take some extreme measures."

Joan shivered. Sherlock looked away again. "But I have some business to conduct first."

#

Sherlock shifted in his seat. He was sitting at the kitchen table in Randy's apartment, opposite to him. Randy didn't even finish the first page in the file that laid opened on the table in front of him when Sherlock finished his explanation. "They have employeed several people with criminal record-of minor crimes-before", he concluded. "And they do have several free councelors. So I don't think there would be much problems if they are to learn about your... past."

Randy frowned, looking up. "Am I supposed to tell them? What if they find out later?"

"Since you were never in the trouble with the law, that can be considered irrelevant", Sherlock explained.

Randy smiled. "Thank you. This really helped me."

Sherlock smiled back. "You're welcome."

Randy looked down at the floor for a moment. "Some of my jobs didn't... end well due to that... past."

"Well, if that was the reason, I think you are better off without them anyway", he said, trying to sound comforting. Randy looked up at him and chuckled.

Sherlock leaned forward, fondling his hands together. "But I have one more preposition for you."

"What kind?"

"Let's pretend that I'm your future boss", Sherlock exclaimed. Randy widened his eyes. "And you are... you." He grinned. "This is a job interview. Introduce yourself to me."

Randy looked around and ran a hand through his hair. He eventually looked Sherlock in the eyes and smiled. "Hi, I'm Randy."

Sherlock grimaced. "Hmmm..."

#

Joan was surprised upon seeing that both the living room and the dining room were empty. Sherlock usually preferred working on complicated cases in there, and judging by his demeanor the day before, he was ready to work on it the whole night.

She sighed, walking over to the stove and putting some water to boil. Maybe he was in his room. Or the bathroom.

She looked around, her gaze eventually stopping on Sherlock's room door... more specifically, on the sign on the door.

"COITUS IN PROGRESS OR RECENTLY CONCLUDED."

She sighed and turned back toward the stove before pulling a package of coffee from the cupboard above. At around that time, she heard the sound of the near by door opening. She didn't turn around, but she somehow knew that that wasn't Sherlock.

"Good morning", she said, with her back turned to a newcomer. "Want some coffee?"

"That would be nice."

Joan shivered, recognizing the voice instantly. She turned around, her eyes wide, and froze upon seeing Susan Walters stand in front of her, wearing nothing but a really low cut white lace nightgown, her hair a bit ruffled and a mischievous smile on her face.

Before she was able to say anything or even fully comprehend the situation, Sherlock had walked out of his room, closing the door behind, fixing his T-shirt before facing Joan, oblivious to a bewildered look on her face.

"Good morning, Joan. How about some coffee?"