A/N: Forgot to mention that this is set after The Great Game. Now you know.
It was almost an hour later when Sherlock came out of his trance. His thinking hadn't helped him understand the notes. Not a single code made any sense. Not forward or backwards.
He needed his violin.
As the two were leaving the crime scene, they passed many zombie-like investigators, much in a similar mood to Lestrade. Even Sherlock noticed. When they reached the police tape, a tired-looking Donovan lifted it without saying a word.
"Is everything all right with you guys?" Claire asked a tired Donovan.
"We ran out of coffee" She said drowsily. Claire nodded her sympathy and stepped under the tape.
Sherlock and Claire left the crime scene without much information, and no more information than that of Lestrade and Anderson. Sherlock was going to look at the bodies tomorrow, and he was in high hopes this would give him some advantage over Lestrade. But he knew that you had to wait for the brilliant killers to make a mistake. Maybe it was too early?
They hailed a cab, and Claire told the cabbie her address, which Sherlock instantly remembered.
"Do you have any ideas?" Sherlock asked her
"No." She answered honestly. "I think you should try and focus on the abnormalities, though, because they..." She was cut off by Sherlock's cell ringing, signalling a call. He gave her an apologetic smile and answered.
"Hello?"
"Sherlock. It's Lestrade. There's been another murder."
"Where?"
"25 Granville road"
"Isn't that..."
"Next to the last one, I know. Murderer did a double-shot and killed the lady next door. No one noticed her, she lived alone. Neighbours say she was nearing her 90th birthday"
"We'll be right there" Sherlock said, and ended the call.
"What happened?" Claire asked
"89 year-old next to the last victim was also killed." Sherlock said, unattached to the emotional side of the case.
"And we're going to investigate?"
"Of course" Sherlock said, the left side of his mouth twisting up into a grin.
"Can we have a quick stop to the shops first?" Claire said, and received a questioning glance from Sherlock.
"Figure we could get the poor guys some coffee. Not the same without their sly comments" She said, grinning. Sherlock grinned too, and directed the cabbie to the closest shop.
That's how Sherlock and Claire returned to the same spot they had been picked up from, each holding a bundle of plastic bags filled with coffee. It may have been her mind playing tricks, but she could have sworn she saw Donovan's eyes brighten at the very appearance of the coffee packets sticking out of the bag.
"Alright all, we got coffee! Come get your coffee!" Claire yelled, and watched in awe as all the investigators came forward to take the plastic bags away to the van where the coffee was made. Lestrade pulled away from the group towards the two saviours of coffee.
"Thanks. We needed it" He said
"I expect compensation" Claire said, still a little shocked at how much all the coffee had cost. Lestrade nodded, and walked off to rejoin the pack.
"If only I'd learnt that coffee got annoying people off the crime scene years ago..." Sherlock said, and after watching the investigators crowd around the van in satisfaction, the two headed off to the investigation table to find the next note.
.eid elpoep tneconni ,neht litnU .flesym laever lliw I ,ma I ohw tuo erugif uoy nehW
Dye stay tricks talk
Sin crawl son small
Sherlock memorised the letter while Claire noted it in her notebook. Then Sherlock decided to ignore his impulse to sit and ponder, and to instead make use of the investigators' absence and observe the new crime scene.
Sherlock's gaze drifted over the body, he sniffed and inspected every inch, every strand of her grey hair, every fingernail. Eventually, he sighed, and stood up from his crouch.
"Cleaned. Every inch. With a strong chemical, strong smelling, blocks all smells. Blocks all investigations. Bullet wound, but no bullet. Either removed by the investigators or by the killer. Considering the killers previous precautions, I'd say killer. Means we have no leads." He said, not making full sentences in his haste to transfer his information. Claire wrote quickly, not wanting to miss anything. Seconds later, Anderson entered the room.
"Who said you could come in here?" He said angrily.
"The coffee machine" Sherlock said snidely. Anderson was about to reply, but thought better of it in case there was another coffee crisis.
"Did you find anything?" He said instead, trying to be nice
"Sadly no" Sherlock said, sad to be equal to a man he considered so far below him.
"We've seen the note, and we'll keep looking at different possibilities" Claire said. Anderson nodded. "If you find anything, let us know"
"And to you" Anderson replied, but his gaze was on Sherlock when he said it. Claire nodded for him. Sherlock and Claire exited the room, leaving a worn Anderson behind them.
When they stepped outside the house, the sky was dark. The crime scene was alight with a streetlight and the inspectors were somewhat awake. Donovan lifted the tape without comment again, this time in thanks instead of tiredness.
Once again Claire and Sherlock boarded a cab. This time, however, it was Sherlock who had to direct the cabbie to Claire's house. She looked at him, surprised, and then rolled her eyes. Of course he remembered her address. He was Sherlock Holmes.
"I keep feeling like there is some clue beyond the notes. Like the evidence is there, and the notes are decoys." Sherlock commented.
"Don't. The notes have to be the clues. You saw yourself, there are no other clues." Claire said. "Do you want my opinion?"
"Desperately" Sherlock confessed
"I think the killer murdered the second victim because he didn't mention something on the first note. You say that you have to wait for a mistake. Maybe this was his? I mean, he had to have killed one person and gone to the next. For random murders, that's insane. The second note had a backwards message, 'When you figure out who I am, I will reveal myself. Until then, innocent people die'. That was crucial information to him; he needs you to know you're under pressure. He can't leave another note; he can't go back and switch notes, so he's trapped. What does he do? Kill the person next door" Claire said.
"You know, Claire, I think you might be onto something" Sherlock said, the city whizzing by the cab window. "I hope my violin helps"
"I'm sure it will" She said, patting his arm.
"I don't think each letter is another letter, I think there's a message inside the letters. I just don't know what."
"You don't know what yet"
"Who says I will?"
"Lestrade, Anderson, Donovan, John, me... and the killer"
"Pressure much?"
"Just a bit"
A/N: Slightly shorter chapter, but the next chapter is a pretty crucial turning point. I'm desperate for some reviews, guys, really want to know what you think. Any suggestions are greatly appreciated too, as well as editing. Also want to know if you figured out the code. Are you a master decoder? Next chapter will be really exciting to write, and hopefully, read, so be prepared for a really epic next chapter
