up in a different place than where i planned. So thank you so much. I reuploaded this chapter!
The next morning was hectic. Holmes was in the kitchen at five shoving his breakfast down his throat as fast as he could. He didn't get any sleep, so he was feeling tired, but it wasn't anything a little bit of coffee and cocaine couldn't cure. He had thoughts of the case in his head, and he believed he was getting on track and was on his way to solving the mystery. At seven, he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. When Mrs. Hudson came downstairs to make his breakfast, he told her he already ate and left the house. Holmes didn't bother getting a cab, and instead walked all the way to Watson's house. He was so eager to find out who the murderer was he didn't care if he got blisters on his feet from walking too much. He knocked on the door, and adjusted his tie. Watson, to Holmes's relief, answered the door. He was dressed and ready to go as well.
"Good morning, old chap." Holmes said once the door was wide open.
"Good morning." Watson replied.
"Did you finish your breakfast? I know Mary usually serves two hours after Mrs. Hudson does and she serves at seven. I tell you, Watson, I can't wait two hours."
"Calm down, Holmes. I finished my breakfast. I could hardly sleep, so I made my own when I woke up at five."
"Excellent!" He peeked into the house. "Why don't you tell Mary we'll be going soon?"
"Sure." Watson disappeared into the house. Holmes could him talking to his wife, "Mary, I have to go now."
And he heard her yelling, "John, you can't leave!"
"Darling, Holmes and I really need to solve this case. I don't want any more people dying on my watch."
"Oh…. Fine, go."
"Good-bye." Watson came back to the door. Holmes could hear Mary sniffling.
"Perhaps you should check on her?" Holmes suggested as the sniffling grew louder.
"No. She'll be alright." Watson hesitated before shutting the door and following Holmes out into the front yard. A young man came to the house, holding a letter. It was not the same man who delivered the letter to Melody concerning her brother. He handed the letter to Watson, and was pleased to find he was given a 5 pound bill as a reward. He bowed and was on his way. Watson looked at the letter, and saw that it was addressed to Holmes. Handing it to him, he asked, "Why did he bring it here?"
"Mrs. Hudson must have told him I was here," Holmes replied, taking the letter from Watson's hands. He opened it, ripping the top off. His eyes scanned the letter, and then they widened, and scanned the letter once more. "I was afraid of this."
"What is it?"
"More deaths."
"With butterfly tattoos?"
"I'm afraid so. We must pick up Miss Jackson and find Irene."
"Yes."
Holmes and Watson needed to get to the scene quickly, so they were forced to catch a cab. It took them a while to find Irene, who was searching the market once more for something to steal. Once she saw them, she dropped her plans and accompanied the two. The murder took place at a small house. An amount of five people were killed in the same manner as the others. The butterflies were branded on their hands. Two women and three men were the unlucky victims. Irene bent down to the bodies.
"Irene," Holmes warned. "You're not stealing anything from them."
"Well, you caught me, Holmes." She said, getting up and wiping one hand against the other.
"Time of death," Watson concluded, "was around an hour ago."
"I don't understand," Melody cried. "What do all these people have in common with my brother?"
"I don't know, Miss Jackson." Holmes replied. "But, it could be he thirsts for blood, or he holds a grudge against these people and your brother."
"He's never done anything bad in his life!"
"I can't really answer this. I don't know the motive." She sobbed, burying her face in her hands. A tiny light bulb went off in his head. He went to a small drawing desk, grabbing a pencil and a piece of paper. He examined the tattoo and drew an exact replica of it on the paper.
"What are you doing, Holmes?" Watson asked. Holmes shoved the paper toward with no words. Watson scanned the drawing. "This will help us find the murderer."
"Yes. If we show this to citizens, they may recognize it and lead us to the culprit."
"Holmes, you're a genius!"
"I know." He smiled, opening the door and leading the way out. He glared at Irene, who again was bending over the bodies. She smiled dropping whatever she was taking from them and followed him, Watson, and Melody outside.
"Holmes, I should get going." She said, fixing her hair. "Call me when you get a lead." She rubbed his cheek, which made him shudder underneath her touch, and then walked down the street until she was out of sight. He touched his cheek and sighed.
"You love her." Watson whispered in his ear, making him jump slightly.
"Shut up, Watson." He replied.
They entered a local tattoo parlor located at the end of the market street. The man behind the counter had a shaved head and was heavily tattooed. A man in the back of the shop was reading a magazine.
"Hello." Holmes said politely to the man.
"What do you want?" He replied, rudely. He set the paper on the counter. The man picked it up and eyed it. "What's this for?"
"It's a design."
"You want this on your arm or something?"
"Oh, certainly not!" Holmes cried, pulling his arm out of reach from the man. "I just want to know if you gave this design to anyone. And I mean this exact design. It has to be a replica!" The man looked at it more closely.
"Yeah, I did."
"Really?" Watson spoke up, running to the counter. "Who?"
"Quite a few people, really." The man reading the magazine got up and headed toward the restrooms.
"Give us a name, sir." Holmes said, leaning against the counter.
"Madison Cutler, I recall. And a man named Leonard Yates."
"Is that all?"
"All I can remember, sir." Holmes sighed, taking the design and stuffing it into his coat pocket.
"Do you have the addresses of this people?"
"I do." He scribbled something on another piece of paper and handed it to Holmes, who nodded and led the way back outside to the market place. He looked at the paper and was on his way once more. Melody and Watson had to walk fast to keep up with him. By the time they reached their destination, they were panting slightly. Holmes paid no attention to them as he rapped swiftly on the door. A young woman possibly younger than Melody answered the door. Her red hair hung over her shoulders.
"May I help you?" She asked. Watson could tell she was resisting the urge to slam the door in their faces.
"We are looking for a Miss Madison Cutler." Holmes announced, taking a step forward. He was ready if she tried to shut the door.
"I am Madison Cutler. What do you want with me?"
"Do you have a tattoo?"
"What?"
"Pull up your sleeve, please, my dear." She was shaking as she pulled her right sleeve up and on her arm was a butterfly tattoo, just as the man said. It was nearly identical to the design on the paper, but it wasn't completely. Holmes compared them, groaned, and stuffed the paper in his coat once again. "She's not the murderer."
"Murderer? Why would I be a murderer?" Madison yelled. Her eyes moved from Holmes to Watson, and back to Holmes again.
"We have examined a total of eight murders in the last two days. Each of the victims, had a butterfly tattoo branded on their hands."
"The butterfly is the trademark, so we need to find someone with that identical tattoo on their body." Watson took over the explanation. "You have a similar tattoo, but it is not the same."
"Oh…." She gasped and cried into her hands.
"Thank you for your time, Miss." Holmes said. Before she could say anything else, the trio was already walking away and out of sight. The next house was not any better. The tattoo Leonard had was located on his shoulder. Like Madison, it was similar, but not an exact replica. They were getting nowhere in this case, and were constantly going in circles.
