Chapter four

The rain eased down when it came for Cassidy to leave the shop. The address Sherlock gave her tucked in her hand; she hailed a cab and made her way towards the other side of town.

The cab pulled to a stop beside a police car. Cassidy glanced out the cab window. Police were scattered outside an abandoned old building, a yellow tape sectioned off a small area of the road blocking the cabs path.

This must be the place she thought. She handed the cabbie driver his money and climbed out. Unsteadily she walked towards the yellow tape where a woman was standing. The woman in question glanced up and frowned when she saw Cassidy.

"Oi don't you see the tape?" The woman said her voice laced with annoyance as she rolled her brown eyes at Cassidy.

"I'm supposed to be meeting Sherlock Holmes here?" Cassidy asked.

The woman frowned and eyed Cassidy out before speaking:

"Oh God not another one? He needs to learn that he does not run the show he's been bringing all sorts along with him lately." The woman scowled

What could she possibly mean by another one?

Cassidy watched as the woman reached for her cell and dialled.

"Freaks got another one here. Okay fine." She put down her cell and gave Cassidy a glare before lifting up the yellow tape.

"Go ahead third floor and make sure not to touch anything"

Cassidy ducked under the tape and made her way into the abandoned building. It smelt of mould and by the looks of it was beginning to collapse on itself. The steps she began to climb creaked beneath her feet as she squeezed past forensic team and policeman.

The minute she stepped onto the final landing, a whiff of vanilla crept up on her and engulfed her. She coughed trying to get rid of the uncomfortable itch in her throat from the scent. With watered eyes she took in the room and felt her stomach drop and the
hairs on her arm and neck prickle. The small room was shrouded in candle light, various size white candles burning around a male body dressed in a white robe lying on a white cotton blanket and almost on top of the body; Sherlock hovered with a magnifying glass, muttering under his breath as a salt and pepper haired man stood opposite him.

Sherlock glanced up and saw the young brunette looking at him with wide jade eyes. He moved away from the body and placed his small magnifying glass in his coat. Ignoring Lestrade he walked over to her.

"You came." He said.

A while passed before Cassidy answered.

"You knew I would." She shrugged her shoulders trying to be indifferent.

But who was she trying to kid? This excited her. She knew it was morally wrong to think that, there was a person that had lost his life but she needed it. Craved the chase, climbing into another's shoes and the victory that came with figuring it all out and putting someone away for life. She hadn't lied to Sherlock, everyone had sociopath tendencies and she wasn't above the concept to think that she was any different.

Sherlock nodded his head and walked back towards the body. She followed. The salt and pepper haired man greeted her with a simple nod of his head. Cassidy stepped cautiously around the scene her mind framing things rapidly in her head that she was battling to decipher what was before her eyes. She closed her eyes shut and breathed in deep. It was a consequence of her brain not being used to working. It happened when she was forced to take leave and when she returned it was like her brain was almost too eager to work.

Her eyes opened and came into focus. Slowly she started pulling apart what she could see. A male body, late 20 ' early 30's. Blonde hair, athletic build but not a body builder. Dressed in an off white robe, hands resting on his pelvic area, entwined. A white blanket underneath him and placed above his head a picture of the Virgin Mary. Curious.

"What do you see?" Sherlock asked breaking the silence.

"Huh?" Lestrade answered.

"Not you." Sherlock rolled his eyes, his amber eyes turning blue as he looked at Cassidy.

Cassidy sucked in a breath. His eyes were like the crab nebula, changing colours. Perhaps he suffered from a hetrochromia mutation where the eyes changed color.

"Death by asphyxiation. Body placed strategically, almost methodically as if they were displaying it. The killer washed and clothed him in this attire. The robe isn't a bathroom robe it reminds me of the robes kids where at their christenings. It's almost like they're trying to rebirth them , could explain the Virgin Mary?" Cassidy mused out loud.

Her mouth snapped shut when she realized she had spoken out a loud. She glanced between Sherlock and the other man.

"Bloody hell. She's like you aint she?" The other man broke the silence.

"There is no one like me , Lestrade. Miss Scott is a creature all her own." Sherlock cleared his throat.

" You're right , only half right though. You missed some obvious points though?" Sherlock sighed.

" Enlighten us then?" Lestrade asked.

Cassidy watched as his blue eyes widened , he took a step back and breathed in.

" Working man most likely going by the detail to personal care. Means he took great pride in his appearance and body and entertained woman by the hour. There are small fibres in his mouth that match the one's of the blanket. So the murder weapon is the blanket. No bruising anywhere in sight so whoever did this is very talented at leaving a corpse without a bruise. Professional who likes to display his work. Most likely targeting sinners in his eyes. Over religious, Catholic most probably but doesn't conform so extremist Catholic with his own ideas."

Sherlock paused before continuing, no doubt trying to suck in much air as possible to get out what he wanted to say.

"Like Miss Scott said, he's thought this out very carefully. Planned every detail like a reel in his head. He's going to kill again now that he has seen that he can get his work out there for the world to see. There will be another victim in a week."

Sherlock placed his magnifying glass back into its special case. He turned to Cassidy.

"Fancy something to eat?" He asked out of the blue.

"What?" Cassidy and Lestrade both said in unison.

"I haven't eaten for days." Sherlock ignored them and made his way past Cassidy. He stopped at the foot of the stairs and pivoted.

"You coming?" He asked pointedly at Cassidy.

Cassidy nodded and followed him as they made their descend down the steps. She didn't quite know what happened back there?

"Shouldn't we be looking for evidence?" Cassidy asked plucking up the courage to speak as they exited the building.

"You saw the body , the scene , there is no evidence other than what we can see. Whoever this is clever and wouldn't be stupid enough to leave clues." Sherlock said glancing down at his mobile screen his eyes furrowed at the brow, no doubt something was making him think.

"So you've got nothing , basically?" Cassidy scoffed.

She had to wonder if John Watson romanticized Sherlock a bit too much in his blogs. Turning him into something he wasn't. Perhaps he was ordinary. But as she stared at the man in question, she realized he was nothing but extraordinary.

"I've got ample enough evidence." He said suddenly slipping his mobile into his coat, as he hailed a nearby cab.

"You do?" Cassidy asked.

Sherlock glanced at her.

"I know enough of things, things that you probably wouldn't want anyone to know. I'm no amateur. Try remembering that." He said softly as he opened the cab door and gestured for her to slide in first.

Cassidy couldn't help feel that he was hinting at her. Her past. But how could he possibly know anything? Sam, her sister and a few retired cops were the only people that knew what happened to the poor Scott girls and their parents. Everything had been hushed, hushed. The murder of her parents had been so horrific and scarring that it wasn't made public record.

"Stop thinking about it." Sherlock suddenly spoke, breaking the silence in the cab.

Cassidy glanced outside the window and realized that the cab had already started its journey. She hadn't even heard where they were going to. Cassidy peaked sideways at Sherlock and saw that his once blue eyes were now a steely grey and those steel eyes were focused on hers. She looked away and pulled nervously at the jacket sleeve of her left arm.

Sherlock watched as the woman beside him pulled at her left jacket sleeve. To an outsider or an average mind they would have thought she was displaying a nervous trait under distress. A tell if you like. But he knew better, Miss Cassidy Scott was hiding more than just her feelings. She was trying to hide her past.