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.
Susan was sitting at their kitchen table as if that were the most natural thing ever. Joan briefly glared at her before walking over to Sherlock, who was standing in front of the stove. He put the frying pan on it, cooking oil already applied to the surface.
Joan sighed, trying to control her rage. "I have plenty of questions, the first one being..." She leaned over and lowered her voice, an angry look coloring her face completely. "Why is there a convicted serial killer in our home?", she hissed.
"Oh", Sherlock exclaimed, appearing almost surprised. "I invited her", he said, matter of factly.
Joan rolled her eyes. "Why?", she cried.
"To investigate her", Sherlock answered calmly before pulling the eggs out of the refrigerator.
"What about the sign on the door?", Joan accused him, trying to keep her voice down. She took a quick look at Susan, who didn't seem to pay attention to them, before turning to Sherlock. "What about her coming out of your bedroom?"
"Oh", Sherlock exclaimed, breaking the egg shell against the bowl and pouring the content in it. "I investigated her by sleeping with her."
Joan felt her mind spinning, the blood rushing away from her face. "What?", she cried.
"With all due respect, I don't understand your distress", Sherlock said, breaking another egg. "She is not the most dangerous person to visit the brownstone. Not even the most dangerous person I've slept with. After reaching a dead end following your retreat to the bedroom, I went to see her, at her house, talk to her about the case, she suggest that we discuss some... things here and one thing led to another."
Short silence. Third egg. Joan felt her mouth go dry. A shiver went up her back.
"She no longer wets her bed", Sherlock exclaimed. "Not in a bad way, I mean."
Joan groaned. "OK. This is going nowhere. I just have one question. Why?"
Sherlock stared at her, confused. "I already..."
"Why?", Joan repeated sternly. Sherlock took a deep breath, swallowing a lump that had, for some reason, formed in his throat.
"If she really were the killer, she would never agree to come to my house and interact with me. If she did, she would at least somehow gloat about her wrongdoing. She didn't. I also used my chance to explore her body, every inch of it." Joan groaned, face palmimg herself. "No bruise, not the slightest one. Except by the ones caused by our... activities, of course." He poured the eggs into the pan. "Even if it was concealed, even if it was brilliantly concealed, I would have found it. I even took a few photographs..."
"What about the Mustang? The perfume? The CD?", Joan asked.
"Somebody is trying to frame her, obviously", Sherlock answered, the eggs. "She is a perfect patsy. For that particular murder, I mean."
Joan sighed, looking away. "Great. This is just great. What even her probation officer discovers, through the parole device, that she visited our house? And staid there overnight?"
Sherlock shrugged. "Nothing about that counts as a parole violation. And we are just consultants. Many of the so-called "rules" don't apply to us. I expected you to know that by now." He looked down at the Pan. "She'll be gone soon, after finishing her morning coffee."
Joan face-palmed herself. "I can't believe I made her a coffee..." She sighed before straightening herself up and facing Sherlock. "So, basically, you discovered nothing new."
"I positively eliminated the suspect. Quite the strong one. There is no doubt in my mind that Susan Walters, or Jenny Sanders, however you wish to call her, is innocent. My mind, as well as yours, is much clearer now. We can freely consider other theories."
His ringtone went off. He ran to the table, picked his phone up (after exchanging a smile with Susan), and quickly read the email he had received. Soon, his face fell.
"I have to admit, this is disappointing", he sakd before looking up at Joan. "The police searched all the construction sigths Carl had worked on, that could be used to hide the evidence, but they found nothing linking him to neither of the murders. And, apparently, he got that pen while consulting with that firm over one of his cases."
It was then that Joan's smartphone rang. She pulled the phone out of her pocket and quickly read the email she had received. "This is better", she said smugly. "They managed to track down the person who purchased that painting in George's office."
"You have very nice legs."
Joan shivered, turning around. Susan grinned at her before taking another sip of coffee. Joan quickly rushed to her room.
#
Mandy shifted in her spot, seated at the table in the interrogation room, opposite to Thomas and Marcus. Joan stood near by, looking at her, her arms crossed over her chest. Thomas pulled one of the photographs from the case file on the table and put it in front of Mandy.
"Not really expensive, this painting", he exclaimed. Mandy looked at the photograph and gulped. "There are many copies available in this city. But not that many."
"Our guys managed to track down all the people who purchased such painting in a twenty mile radius from his office, about two months ago", Marcus continued. "Not that many of them. And only one seemed to be connected to George. You."
"A pretty intimate present", Joan pointed out.
Mandy formed a small smile, trying to stay calm. "I thought that it would fit into his office nicely. Light up the space." She fondled her hands together. "I don't understand what you are implying."
"OK", Marcus agreed, nodding his head. "Then you'll have no problems providing us with your DNA sample."
Mandy's eyes widened. "What for?"
"Forensics recovered some vaginal fluid on George's bed sheets and blonde hairs in his shower drain", Joan explained. "So, we would like to eliminate you as a person of interest in this situation."
"You had to provide fingerprint samples before applying for the job here, but not the DNA sample", Thomas added.
"I'm afraid I'm not OK with that", she admitted.
Thomas pushed a piece of paper over to Mandy. She skimmed through the content, the color leaving her face. "Here is the warrant", Thomas explained.
"OK, I was in a relationship with George", she admitted, her eyes watery. "But I have nothing to do with his murder!"
"Why didn't you tell us about that?", Joan asked.
Mandy took a deep breath. "Because... I didn't want you to get wrong ideas. And it wasn't important."
"Where were you two days ago between eight and eleven pm?", Thomas asked.
"At home."
"Can anyone confirm that?", Marcus asked.
Mandy shuddered. She tried to calm herself down. "I was alone... I ordered a Chinese take out at about eight, talked to my mother on the phone at around nine and with a friend at around ten." She took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. "I downloaded the movie online about half an hour later."
"We will check that", Thomas warned her, writing the info down.
"You would probably spend a lot of time at his house", Joan concluded. "Did you notice anything suspicious? Out of place?"
Mandy frowned. "No... but I noticed the car parked near the house one night. I hadn't noticed it before, and I haven't seen it after."
"What kind of the car?", Marcus asked.
"Red Mustang. I don't remember much else."
"We will still have to take a sample of your DNA, just in case", Marcus said. Mandy just nodded her head.
It was then that the door creeked open, and Sherlock peeked inside. "Watson. Bell. Gregson." He briefly glanced at Mandy before looking up. "Come along if you will."
#
Sherlock rushed back into the workroom, walking over to the desk that was filled with the copies of the threatening letters sent to George Arrow. Others followed him, looking pretty confused. "Those threatening letters that George had been receiving...", he mused. "I cross matched the conclusions derived from the letters themselves with the information from George's case files."
He was about to continue when his ringtone went off. He pulled out his phone and read the text. It was from Randy, comtaing two photographs of neckties, and a question: Which one?
"Randy?", Joan asked, titlting her head to the side.
"Yes", Sherlock answered, quickly typing the response. "I might have scared him a bit yesterday."
He pressed the "Send" button and pulled the phone down his pocket, then picked one of the papers up from the table, the one featuring the photograph of a middle aged Caucasian man amd some personal info written down. "George convicted his brother of first degree murder early this year. He matches to all the details I have extracted from examining these letters."
"He can't be the only person matching that description", Joan pointed out.
Sherlock nodded his head. "No, but the threatening letters started a month after the conviction." He examined some of the documents closely. "He would send them almost every week, except for the fourth of month. According to his Facebook page, on those days, he usually travels to Long Island to visit his sister."
"Let's bring him in for questioning", Thomas decided.
Sherlock's ringtone went off again. He pulled his phone out and read the text. "This could take a while", he said.
#
Nick scoffed, holding the copy of one of the letters in his hand. He was sitting in the interrogation room, with Thomas and Marcus standing opposite to him, and Sherlock standing by the side.
"You think I sent those letters based on that?" He grinned. "I believe you know this is all circumstancial evidence."
"It's good enough evidence for us to consider you the prime suspect", Thomas pointed out. Nick sighed.
"Where were you two nights ago between eight and eleven pm?", Marcus asked.
"At work. You can check."
"We will", Marcus assured him.
"I noticed that you would "save" your right leg a bit when you walked in here", Sherlock pointed out. "You don't happen to have a bruise somewhere on that area, don't you?"
Nick shivered. "I hurt myself a few days ago, at work. So what?"
"Mr. Hawkes, this alone is enough to get you at least two years in prison", Thomas warned him.
"Even if you can prove that I wrote those letters, there is no way that I killed George. Check my alibi!"
Sherlock was about to ask a few more questions when a young patrole officer, looking slightly confused, walked in. "Sorry, I lost the number...", he said kind of shyly, seeming to talk to Thomas in particular. "We have... uhm... found something important."
#
The crime scene was a modest but nicely decorated Brooklyn house. Everything was ransacked: kitchen cupboards, kitchen drawers, the book shelf in the living room. There were blood splatters all over the kitchen walls and the kitchen sink. Sherlock carefully stepped over the body before Thonas took a step forward; Marcus continued standing aside, checking his notes. Young red haired woman was laying face down on the kitchen floor, the back of her head bruised and bloodied. She was wearing white T-shirt, blue jeans, and red house slippers.
"We've been interrogating Susan's former cellmates, just in case", Thomas explained before looking at the body. "Meet Lyndsey Dawnson." Sherlock took one more look at the body before examining the mark on the kitchen table, even smelling it. Thomas glanced at him, then continued. "After she hadn't been answering, a couple of our guys kicked the door in... they found her like this."
"She hacked the IRS database in 2009", Marcus read, walking around. "Deleted the information about her debt. Spent five years in prison, got out shortly before Susan. Two years prior to that conviction, she was convicted of illegal possession of a fire arm. M.E. estimates that she was murdered two nights ago. Multiple blunt force traumas to the back of the head, likely with the gun handle-possibly caliber .45." He looked around. "A burglary gone wrong... it would appear", he said sceptically.
Thomas walked over to Sherlock. Sherlock was examining two drinking glasses on the kitchen element, even sufficient at them-and the kitchen sink a few times.
"Definitely not a burglary gone wrong", he concluded. "She knew the killer, poured him-or her-a glass of scotch, as well as herself. The killer cleaned it up afterwards, but the scent remains, on the glasses, kitchen sink, and the victim's body. The scotch is now in the refrigerator, but there is a wet ring on the table." He sighed. "That was the last things she ever drank."
Thomas looked him in the eyes. "You know that this looks bad, right?", he asked him silently.
Sherlock nodded his head. "Most definitely. Someone like Lyndsey could have helped Susan to re-direct the signal of her parole device. Provide her with the instructions, some sort of a devise... Susan murdered George as a revenge, and then Lyndsey, to cover her tracks." He sighed, looking through the window. "It would make sense that she would bludgeon her to death with the gun rather than shooting her so the police wouldn't link this murder with the murder of George Arrow, therefore having even more reasons to suspect her of that crime." He looked Thomas in the eyes. "Except Susan didn't do any of those things", he said determinently.
Thomas frowned. "How can you be so sure?"
"I can", Sherlock answered calmly.
Marcus walked over to them. "I have no idea what you two have been talking about, but I just received an email from the forensics", he said. "They extracted the DNA profile from one of the hairs recovered on George's living room carpet. It matches to Susan." He sighed. "Also, the search team recovered a caliber .45 gun on the bottom of the lake near the place where the fundraiser that Susan had attended took place."