May I firstly say thank you to anyone who's looked at the petition – we've reached our target of 100,000 signatures, so the government is now obliged to pay us some attention :p

Thank you also to anyone who's looked at the blogs, and I hope you all enjoy this chapter, my dear readers

...

Jim spent the day doing various things; Sebastian set him up a blog, which he fiddled round with for a while, and Mrs Hudson baked some scones, some of which the detective happily ate. He took a nap, and spent a long time agonising over the photos pinned to the board, and writing notes in different coloured pens on a big sheet of paper he'd stuck to the wall beside them.

About midday a package of photos was dropped through the letterbox, and Jim was happily occupied with them for the two or so hours following.

It was 5pm when Jim's phone rang again. He pulled it from his pocket and frowned at it for a moment, before answering the call.

"What?"

"Hello to you too, Jim."

There was a pause as Lestrade waited for Jim to respond, and Jim waited for Lestrade to get to the point.

"Well, it's the same old story; dead body, carved message for you, another life wasted because some psychopath is bored."

"My dear Lestrade, Sherlock would be offended to hear you talk so: he much prefers 'sociopath'."

"I don't bloody care whether Sherlock Holmes prefers to be called a sociopath or a squirrel, I just want to know if you're coming this time."

"It all depends really. Give me data, then I can decide."

Lestrade sighed. "He's been found in some back street in Ilford. He's about 50 with grey hair, tired face, tan, relatively strong from the looks of him. Urmm..."

"Lestrade, not to worry you, but have you been paying attention to your description, and to the body not far away?"

"I'm not even going to ask how you know how close I am to the body, and of course I've been paying attention – I've paid attention to nothing else since I arrived."

"Then I suggest you look close, Inspector."

There was a pause which indicated that Lestrade was doing as he was told, and Jim took the opportunity to shout for Seb to get him another cup of tea.

There was a muffled curse, before Lestrade spoke. " Jim?"

"Right here."

"Is the victim, urm...is the victim meant to look like...me...?"

"If I was there, I'd give you a round of applause for your deductive skills. You really are coming along." Jim grinned.

"Well thanks, but I'm a bit more concerned about the body right now. Why is he meant to look like me?"

"Sherlock's mind works in strange ways; I can't possibly be expected to understand. However," he paused, "each victim has looked like someone I know, or have known, so I'm guessing this is just Sherlock's way of reminding me that he can destroy everything I hold dear without any effort at all."

"That's not very reassuring..."

"It wasn't meant to be – I was answering your question, not giving you a shock blanket."

Lestrade sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "So are you coming?"

"No, I don't think so. I'll come next time."

"Next time?"

"But of course – Sherlock isn't finished yet."

Lestrade sighed, muttering something about sending the photos round, before hanging up.

Jim dropped the phone onto the table, absently beginning to hum a tune as he sat back on the sofa and began thinking. Each time it was his move in this game, he'd passed because he had no idea what to do, and the detective was getting bored of not knowing.

...

If anyone is clever enough to work out the complex little thing I'm doing, then I'll give you a mention, a virtual cookie and possibly a character named after you. How do the murders link, other than all the victims looking like someone Jim knows? Feel free to review or PM me if you think you know.