The next morning Sherlock was standing outside my dorm door waiting
impatiently.
"What?" I said, "I've got class."
"You can miss one this time," he said, "you won't fail by missing a class."
"If I do I'm holding you fully responsible," I muttered as I grabbed a jacket and ran out the door after him.
We pulled up at another apartment building when Chief Hawthorne came out to meet us.
"Another body," he said, "no real evidence this time either except for the 'RACHE' written on the wall in blood. No one saw anything, though we do have a suspect. The landladies son disappeared before we could question him."
I followed the two men into the room and was again greeted by the sight of a dead man stretched out on the floor. There was no weapon and the gunshot had been to the chest.
"Where is the landlady?" Sherlock said immediately.
"Downstairs, follow me."
In a room on the ground floor, a frightened looking young woman and a fierce older lady sat watching us enter.
"This is Mrs. Ellis and her daughter Marion," Chief Hawthorne said, "like I said, the son Brennen disappeared before he could be questioned."
"My son did nothing," the older lady said empathetically, " you have no reason to question him."
Sherlock ignored her and made a beeline for the young woman.
"What can you tell me about the man upstairs," he said gently.
Marion Ellis turned several shades of white before she burst out in tears.
"His name was Allen Michaels," the landlady snapped, "and we know nothing about him."
Sherlock spun on the woman and gave her a disgusted glare.
"I think I was asking your daughter not you, ma'am," he said with even disdain, turning back around to the younger woman.
"Did you know Mr. Michaels," Sherlock said.
"He had been living here a very short time," she said with a quaver, "he only talked to me a few times."
"About what," Sherlock pressed.
She took on a panicky look again then burst out crying for the second time.
"He made bad comments to me," she sobbed, "I told Brennen and he said he'd kill him if he did it again."
"Now you've just gotten your brother in trouble," the landlady shouted, "now they're going to arrest him."
"They would have found out anyway," Marion Ellis sobbed out, "he threatened him in front of everyone."
"I don't think you have much to worry about," Sherlock said to the two women, "just tell him to show up for questioning. He's not in too much trouble yet."
Back in the car I waited for Sherlock to start talking. When that didn't happen I sighed and started prodding him with questions.
"So you've ruled Brennen Ellis out without ever talking to him?" I said.
"It was his sister," Damien said with a sigh, "he was trying to protect her. If I had been him I would have done the same thing."
"So you don't think he carried out the threat?"
"No, he had nothing to do with the other killing and he couldn't have known about the 'RACHE'. He just happened to make an unfortunate comment at the wrong time."
"So we're back to nowhere," I sighed.
"Not at all," Sherlock said smiling, "I think I've just figured out who our murderer is and why."
"WHAT?!?!"
If Sherlock had expected to get a rise out of me by making that statement, he wasn't disappointed. He looked at me smugly again.
"Remember how I said I stayed up all night reading back issues of the newspaper?" he asked, "well, it was time put to good use. After class meet me down at the station and I'll explain it all to you."
"You're not going to now?"
He shot me a wicked look.
"I think you can live in suspense for a while. It gives me time to talk to Paul and straighten things out. Oh, and while you're in class, take notes for me, I don't think I'm going to make it."
If looks could kill, Damien would have been dead on the spot. Fortunately for him we were already back at the parking lot and he didn't have ample opportunity to see the evil eye I gave him take effect.
"What?" I said, "I've got class."
"You can miss one this time," he said, "you won't fail by missing a class."
"If I do I'm holding you fully responsible," I muttered as I grabbed a jacket and ran out the door after him.
We pulled up at another apartment building when Chief Hawthorne came out to meet us.
"Another body," he said, "no real evidence this time either except for the 'RACHE' written on the wall in blood. No one saw anything, though we do have a suspect. The landladies son disappeared before we could question him."
I followed the two men into the room and was again greeted by the sight of a dead man stretched out on the floor. There was no weapon and the gunshot had been to the chest.
"Where is the landlady?" Sherlock said immediately.
"Downstairs, follow me."
In a room on the ground floor, a frightened looking young woman and a fierce older lady sat watching us enter.
"This is Mrs. Ellis and her daughter Marion," Chief Hawthorne said, "like I said, the son Brennen disappeared before he could be questioned."
"My son did nothing," the older lady said empathetically, " you have no reason to question him."
Sherlock ignored her and made a beeline for the young woman.
"What can you tell me about the man upstairs," he said gently.
Marion Ellis turned several shades of white before she burst out in tears.
"His name was Allen Michaels," the landlady snapped, "and we know nothing about him."
Sherlock spun on the woman and gave her a disgusted glare.
"I think I was asking your daughter not you, ma'am," he said with even disdain, turning back around to the younger woman.
"Did you know Mr. Michaels," Sherlock said.
"He had been living here a very short time," she said with a quaver, "he only talked to me a few times."
"About what," Sherlock pressed.
She took on a panicky look again then burst out crying for the second time.
"He made bad comments to me," she sobbed, "I told Brennen and he said he'd kill him if he did it again."
"Now you've just gotten your brother in trouble," the landlady shouted, "now they're going to arrest him."
"They would have found out anyway," Marion Ellis sobbed out, "he threatened him in front of everyone."
"I don't think you have much to worry about," Sherlock said to the two women, "just tell him to show up for questioning. He's not in too much trouble yet."
Back in the car I waited for Sherlock to start talking. When that didn't happen I sighed and started prodding him with questions.
"So you've ruled Brennen Ellis out without ever talking to him?" I said.
"It was his sister," Damien said with a sigh, "he was trying to protect her. If I had been him I would have done the same thing."
"So you don't think he carried out the threat?"
"No, he had nothing to do with the other killing and he couldn't have known about the 'RACHE'. He just happened to make an unfortunate comment at the wrong time."
"So we're back to nowhere," I sighed.
"Not at all," Sherlock said smiling, "I think I've just figured out who our murderer is and why."
"WHAT?!?!"
If Sherlock had expected to get a rise out of me by making that statement, he wasn't disappointed. He looked at me smugly again.
"Remember how I said I stayed up all night reading back issues of the newspaper?" he asked, "well, it was time put to good use. After class meet me down at the station and I'll explain it all to you."
"You're not going to now?"
He shot me a wicked look.
"I think you can live in suspense for a while. It gives me time to talk to Paul and straighten things out. Oh, and while you're in class, take notes for me, I don't think I'm going to make it."
If looks could kill, Damien would have been dead on the spot. Fortunately for him we were already back at the parking lot and he didn't have ample opportunity to see the evil eye I gave him take effect.