I awoke the next morning, to the sound of Sherlock's violin which I didn't mind. I quite liked it when he played as long as it wasn't to annoy me.
I went into the kitchen and filled the kettle up for some tea.
"Morning." Sherlock said.
"Good morning." I replied, "Do you want a cuppa? I'm making tea."
Sherlock nodded so I got another cup out from the cupboard.
"So, what time did you go to bed last night?" I asked actually wondering because I heard him stopping back and fourth for ages when I was trying to sleep.
"Late, couldn't sleep." He said.
"That's a surprise." I muttered pouring the water.
"There still haven't been anymore murders. Why is he taking his time? Surely he would move onto the next one straight away." Sherlock said now pacing the floor again.
"Well, if you're lucky we might get one today." I said bringing the tea into the lounge.
"Yes." Sherlock muttered staring into nothing.
I placed the tea on the coffee table and sat down. I picked up a newspaper and relaxed.
"So what are we doing then? We aren't really solving anything are we?" I asked.
"No, we are just waiting."
I nodded and went back to my newspaper.
. . .
A few moments later, Sherlock received a call from Lestrade.
"What is it?"
Sherlock smiled briefly and then raised his eyebrows excited.
"Another murder."
He grabbed his coat and I pulled myself up from my armchair and we left our flat in a hurry as usual.
We got a taxi to Bart's. This time we weren't going to a crime scene, we were just going to Bart's hospital to inspect the body there.
"Ah, Lestrade." Sherlock said smiling sarcastically.
I smiled at Lestrade and then turned to see Molly standing next to the body putting her plastic gloves on.
"Molly." Sherlock said nodding at Molly.
Molly smiled awkwardly.
There had been a tense and awkward atmosphere between Sherlock and Molly lately. I didn't quite know what it was all about. Ever since Sherlock's disappearance, something between Molly and Sherlock had occurred which kept a kind of distance between them. Sherlock never teased or made mean comments to Molly anymore, yet he wasn't nice to her either. It was as if they were neglecting each other in a way, but it was sadder than that.
I couldn't help but notice it.
"Reveal the body."
Molly pulled the white sheet slowly away from the body, revealing a naked middle aged man with another word carved onto his skin just like Sherlock predicted.
The word was not the word I was expecting to see next following on from the word Sherlock which was the previous and first word that we had seen carved onto the old Doctor's skin.
The word that I, and everyone else in the room was staring at was,
Painstakingly.
Sherlock slipped some rubber gloves on and started to inspect the body with his magnifying glass.
Who was this man was the question I wanted to ask. What could a normal, casual, middle aged man have to do with Sherlock Holmes. He looked about in his early forty's.
I guess you could say that Sherlock was a middle aged man like him, and that was one thing they had in common, but this man lying dead on a slab in front of me, looked like a perfectly normal guy, and anyone who knew Sherlock would say that he isn't a normal man.
The man's face had quite a bit of bruising around the check bones and chin. It looked like Dao and his gang had given the man a right beating.
He didn't have a quick and easy death that was for sure.
"Do you still have the man's clothes?" Sherlock asked standing up straight again.
Normally this question would be asked to Molly, but Sherlock was just staring down at the body instead of her, so I didn't have a clue who he was asking.
He wouldn't even look her in the eye.
"Yes, I should imagine so." Lestrade said, answering for Molly frowning.
I wasn't the only one who was noticing it then.
Lestrade gave me a look as if to say, 'What's up with Sherlock and Molly?' I just shrugged at him.
Molly went to fetch the dead man's clothes, and as soon as she left Sherlock looked up.
I gave him a look, raising my eyebrows and he raised them back at me mouthing 'what?'
Before I could ask him all my questions, Molly came back with a pair of boots, a coat, trousers and shirt.
As soon as Molly came in with the clothes, Sherlock's interest drifted from me and straight to the clothes in Molly's arms.
Molly also brought with her a suitcase that must have belonged to the dead man.
"Ah, yes…" Sherlock said taking them from Molly and rummaging through them hastily. He was searching for some kind of evidence or anything useful that could tell him something about this man.
I saw him rummaging through the coat pockets.
So the sentence we had so far was 'Sherlock painstakingly'. That didn't really make any sense at the minute and I couldn't make much of it.
"Aaah!" Sherlock said twisting round so his body was facing us but his eyes were fixed on a small object that looked like a ring between his fingertips.
"Got anything?" Lestrade asked.
Sherlock smirked.
"This man was 45 years old; you can tell by his clothes that he worked as a business man. A smart and rich man you could say, by his clothes which are expensive, and you can tell he has gone through some effort to make his outfit look smart and of high standards. He spent most of his time at work sitting in an office, which you can tell by his fat, awkward figure and the veins bulging out of his legs. His name was Mark Hunter-"
"Wait hold on, how can you possibly know that?" Lestrade asked.
Sherlock shoved some kind of ID in Lestrade's face.
"His driving license was in his trouser pocket, so what does that tell us? Normally men's driving licences are kept in their wallets wouldn't you agree? However his wallet isn't on the body nor the anywhere hidden amongst the clothes so the killer has taken it. Why? Maybe the killer was in a hurry and just assumed that any evidence of who this man would be kept in the wallet. Unfortunately for him, this man must have used his licence at some point in his day. There is also a suitcase which I'm sure all of you have spotted telling us that this man was going somewhere. The fact that the suitcase is rather large and he was using his license could suggest he was leaving the country for some reason. I also found this,"
Sherlock shoved a passport in our faces,
"-In his coat pocket, however the page with all his details has been torn out by the killer I assume but this proves our point that he was leaving the country. Furthermore though, it leaves the question where was he going, why was he going?"
"Maybe he was offered a job somewhere? He could be staying there for a little while?" I suggested.
"No no, look at him! Look at his luggage! The suitcase is large looks like he intends to stay wherever he's going for quite some time. Plus the fact that he's a wealthy man he wouldn't leave the country unless something bad had happened to his life here, maybe family problems meaning that he wanted to escape-"
Sherlock suddenly stopped talking, his eyes wide, gazing into nothingness.
I knew that look.
That was the look he made whenever he had just discovered or realised something really surprising or bad.
At the moment I couldn't tell which one it was.
"What then? Sherlock, why was he leaving the country?" Lestrade asked.
"I…I have don't know at the moment, I'll ring you later and see if I have any news by the end of the day." Sherlock murmured still gazing into nothingness, putting on his coat at the same time.
"Sherlock are you okay?" I asked frowning.
"Yeah yeah, fine…just need some time and a bit of space to figure things out don't worry." He said now walking towards the door. He looked completely oblivious and I was actually worried he was going to walk into a door or something.
I followed, completely clueless to what had happened to Sherlock Holmes.
Sorry I haven't updated in so long! I was busy with Christmas and all that stuff! Hope you had a good one though!
Lucy ;)
