((Right, here it is! The seventh chapter! Woohoo! Sorry to keep you all waiting so long. I promise that I will be updating this fic more from now on. I finally managed to get the next two chapters edited so they will be up soon. Enjoy!

R & R.

All criticism is welcome. Anything to keep me writing and make me improve. :D ))

In the locked room a woman laid dead on the floor. It was obvious that she had committed suicide because there were pills dotted around on the floor beside her, as well as a small bottle resting in her limp hand.

When Amy had gone to see what the police had found she saw that Sherlock was already examing the body, Lestrade towering over him, waiting for an answer while other members of the team searched the room. Amy decided to join in with the search.

"She must have killed him," piped up Anderson. Sherlock hadn't even noticed his presence. Nothing new there, then.

"What makes you say that?" asked the consulting detective, straightening himself up.

"Why else would she commit suicide?"

While she was searching through draws Amy was listening to the conversation.

Anderson continued. "They had an argument, she killed him; she felt guilty so she locked herself in here and took her own life. We've seen this before."

Sherlock sighed. "As always, Anderson, you manage to amaze me with your stupidity. It's not as simple as that. It's nice that you're trying, though. Enough for a gold star, I believe -"

"No," Amy interrupted. "It isn't." She had spotted something. A clue, perhaps. Outside in the hallway, on a small table, were a set of keys. She slipped on white gloves like she was supposed to. "Wait in there. I want to try something." Closing the door from outside the room she tested each of the four keys in turn until, eventually, one of them locked the door. Unlocking it, she walked back in. "This must be the key used to lock this door. If she had locked herself in then the keys would surely be inside the room. Someone locked her in here."

"There could be another set of keys in here," replied Anderson who was determined not to be proven wrong by 'armatures'.

Sherlock agreed with Amy and supported her conclusion completely. "There is no point searching, you won't find anymore keys. It's obvious this woman has been locked in here. If you care to examine her properly you will find that she has been dead longer than the man in the other room. It is not possible for her to have killed him. Unless she somehow remarkably came back from the dead."

"What, like you did?" Anderson said snidely, creating a tense silence.

"Someone else was here." With that, Sherlock flitted out of the room. Footsteps could be heard plodding up the stairs seconds later.

"I think the argument part might be true," said Amy, breaking the awkward silence, and everyone's stares fell from Anderson and onto her. Her eyes flickered between Lestrade and Anderson. Pulling the divorce papers from her pocket she gave them to Lestrade. "I have an inkling - just an inkling - that this is the reason why this happened...somehow."

Lestrade nodded, scanning the paper. "Perhaps. But if what Sherlock says is true and someone else was here then that changed the situation. This might not have anything to do with it."

"You do know he was being thrown out, right?"

"Yes, we've seen the luggage bag."

"Then doesn't that tell you that he wasn't wanted in the house? I think you should look for their son."

"Their son?"

"Yeah. There are photos of a teenage boy in the living room. I take it he's their son. You know who these people are - their names are on that paper. Find their son and see if he knows anything or had anything to do with this." Her gut instinct was telling her that he did.

Lestrade was going to speak only Sherlock had propelled back into the room. "The TV had been left on in one of the upstairs rooms and the window has been left wide open. There are two luggage bags in there as well. Someone was here. They've been living here. My guess is they did it otherwise they would be here now. Guilty conscious - it always makes people run. I'll leave you all to it; I've got things to do. I'll be in touch in a few hours."

"Sherlock?!"

However Sherlock was off. Without thinking, Amy followed after him, trying her best to keep up with his wide strides as he left the house into the open air. "Where are you going? You can't abandon a case whenever you feel like it!"

He smiled vaguely. "I'm not." Amy saw him delve his hand into his coat pocket. "I found this" - he held up an ID badge - "in the luggage in the spare bedroom."

"D-do you think he's the murderer?"

"No, I know he's the murderer."

"How?"

"Television left on. Window wide open. Coat and keys forgotten. Drain pipe broken away from the wall. The signs of a quick escape."

"Shouldn't you tell the police?"

"Oh, I like letting them work things out for themselves. It makes for great entertainment." He was now walking much quicker.

"So, you're going to find this man?"

"Yes."

"Don't you care that it might be dangerous?"

"Not really. And I don't think you do either, Amy."

He was right about that. Amy had faced danger more times than she could count. Had it deterred her from travelling the first time? No. In fact, she had loved it. Experienced a thrill she had never experienced before.

"You know, you remind me of someone. My friend..." she mused but he didn't reply. "I'm coming with you."

"There's no need."

"Maybe not, but what happens if you need rescuing?"

"I won't. I will be perfectly fine thanks."

"I've heard that before," she laughed.