Murmured voices drifted up the stairwell, through the cracks of the door and into the darkened bedroom. Inside, John Watson woke, slowly, inhaling deeply and stretching out on his bed. Brow furrowed, he sleepily gazed at the digital clock on his nightstand. 3:26 AM.
"Christ." he muttered to himself.
Mustering the will to get up, John yawned and rubbed his eyes, straining his ears to try and make out the owners of the voices downstairs. Groggily, he grabbed his burgundy robe from where it hung on a hook on the back of his door and wrapped it snugly around his body, tying a quick knot at his waist. He opened the bedroom door and his eyes squinted at the onslaught of bright light that came from the hall. Once in the stairwell, John was able to make out the deep voice of his eclectic roommate, Sherlock Holmes. He made his way down the steps and entered the living area, where Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, looking haggard, was making his case to Sherlock.
"Please, will you come?" Greg was asking as John entered.
"Yes. Text me the address. We'll follow in a cab." Sherlock grumbled from where he was seated in his black and chrome chair.
"Thanks." Lestrade gave a quick nod of acknowledgment to John before hastily taking his leave.
"What have we got, then?" John asked, mindlessly scratching his head.
"Murder." Sherlock said, making eye contact with John, "And a note." Sherlock sprung to his feet, heading for his bedroom, presumably to change.
"Get ready, John. The game is on!" he shouted from his bedroom before slamming the door.
John heaved a great sigh and made his way back to his bedroom to change.
Less than 25 minutes later, the pair were arriving at the crime scene. John hastily paid the cab driver and caught up to Sherlock, who was striding confidently towards Sally Donovan, where she was standing guard by the police tape. Seeing him approach, she habitually muttered into her radio, "Freak's here."
John rolled his eyes.
"Good evening, Sally."
"Hello, Sherlock." she responded coldly.
Sherlock ducked under the police tape and politely held it up for John as he passed through.
"Try not to enjoy yourself too much, freak." remarked Sally as they walked by.
For once, Sherlock abstained from responding with a biting remark. He was laser-focused on getting to the crime scene. They met Greg at the entrance to a dark alley, where spotlights had been set up by forensics to cast some light onto the events that occurred.
"Right. We've got a 26 year old female, a known prostitute in this part of town, found by some drunk who was trying to take a piss in the alley on his way home."
"Cause of death?" John inquired.
"See for yourself." Greg responded, stopping short as they had approached the bloody scene.
It was a gruesome sight. The woman was lying on her stomach, limbs sprawled every which way. She was covered in blood, presumably from the multiple stab wounds visible on her back. The blood had stained her once white, ruffled blouse and her black, leather skirt. Sherlock began his typical investigation without hesitation. He studied her nails, jewelry, and shoes. He checked her pockets and rifled through her purse that must have still been hanging on her shoulder when she died. He paused his search when he noticed what appeared to be a piece of paper pinned to the outside of the purse.
"What is it?" John asked, approaching Sherlock.
"Perfectus." Sherlock responded.
"Is that Latin? For perfect?" John responded.
"Yes, Latin. But, it means more than just perfect. It means finished or complete. Without flaw."
John's eyebrows rose in surprise.
Greg, desperate for information, cut in. "Have you got anything?"
"Not much." Sherlock responded, genuinely. He continued, "26 year old female, yes, she was a prostitute but going by the wedding band on her right ring finger, she's a widow, unusual for someone her age. I would bet that her significant other was involved in the military. She only recently became a widow, and has fallen on hard times. She's sentimental about the ring and is more willing to sell her body than sell what must feel like the last connection she had to her husband in order to make ends meet. The woman must've known her killer or had some connection to him. And, yes, I say 'him' because going by the depth and angle of the cuts, the killer would've been significantly taller than her, I'd say approximately 6'3" or 6'4" and quite strong. Balance of probability says he's a male. The killer also did this out of revenge or anger. He wasn't interested in robbing her. He left the valuable wedding ring and all of the woman's cash and cards in place. He also didn't rape her. He killed her because he felt he was righting a wrong. That's supported by the note, 'perfectus', perfect in completion. He's succeeded in killing her, and felt justified in doing so. Tonight, she was working, going by her attire, and was picked up by her killer. She followed him into this alley indicating she had some level of trust with him. He hit her over the head, most likely with a pipe or bat. Then, once disorientated, he began stabbing her mercilessly."
"Incredible." John muttered.
"Jesus." remarked Lestrade.
"So, we know the killer is approximately 6'4" and is probably of a strong build and is somehow connected to the woman." Lestrade clarified.
"Yes. I'll need access to her cell phone records, diary, planner, any receipts of where she's been in the last 2 weeks. There is another feature of interest in this case, however, that makes it most peculiar…"
"What's that?" asked John.
Sherlock was examining the note that had been left on the dead woman's purse with a penlight.
"This note was written by someone who was left handed. Look," he said, leaning over and pointing out his findings to John, "you can tell by the smudges here. Those types of smudges only come from someone writing with their left hand."
"Why is that a 'feature of interest'?" Lestrade asked, leaning over John's shoulder to get a look.
"Honestly, what must it be like being so unbelievably slow? Look at the woman! The killer was right handed!"
"Right handed." said John, finishing the sentence with Sherlock in tandem.
This prompted another in-depth forensic discussion about the type of blade used, the angles and locations of the cuts made on the woman's body, and several insults to all of New Scotland Yard. By the time Sherlock had finished, the sun was starting to rise in the East.
"So, there must've been at least two people involved, then?" Lestrade asked.
"Probably." responded Sherlock breathlessly, "Now. If you'll excuse us. We have a killer to catch."
"Right, thanks. Sherlock, if you find anything," he called after the pair as they began to walk off, "keep me informed!"
"Will do!" John called over his shoulder as he tried to keep up with Sherlock who was already hailing a cab at the corner.