Chapter Four-
John followed Sherlock out of their flat and down the stairs. "Sorry, Mrs Hudson, I'll skip the tea. Off out."
"Both of you?" Mrs Hudson asked in concern causing Sherlock to pause at the door before swiftly spinning on the balls of his feet to look at her with excitement in his eyes.
"Impossible suicides? Four of them?" Sherlock asked making his way towards her. "There's no point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!" He told her excitedly before kissing her cheek.
"Look at you, all happy. It's not decent." Mrs Hudson told him with a small smirk.
"Who cares about decent?" Sherlock playfully growled out. "The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!" He said walking outside with John right on his heels and hailed a taxi, getting one instantly, before getting in with John sliding in after him. Sherlock quickly raddled off the address and they were off.
John stared out the window watching the scenery pass them by as the sun sat while Sherlock typed away at his phone. John knew that if he was to get any of his questions answered, now would be a good time to do so before they got to the crime scene. John looked at Sherlock and opened his mouth only to sigh and close his mouth again. He didn't know if he would be bothering Sherlock with his questions or not. John shook his head and looked out the window only to have the Alpha sigh in annoyance.
"If you have questions, John, ask them." Sherlock growled out, shocked and a little startled that Sherlock had even noticed when he had been glued to his phone caused John to say the first thing to come to mind.
"Where are we going?"
"Crime scene. Next?" Sherlock said.
"Who are you? What do you do?" John asked.
"What do you think?" Sherlock asked. Was this a test?
"I'd say private detective."
"But?" Sherlock said.
"But the police don't go to private detectives." That caused the Alpha to smile at him.
"I'm a consulting detective. Only one in the world, I invented the job." Sherlock bragged.
"What does that mean?" John asked.
"Means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me." Sherlock told him.
"But the police don't consult amateurs." John said causing Sherlock to smirk at him, and with a jolt he realized that Sherlock was telling him with that one smirk that he was no amateur.
"When I met you for the first time yesterday I said Afghanistan or Iraq. You looked surprised."
"Yes, how did you know?" John asked, that was one question that was bugging him, that and how he knew about Harry.
"I didn't know, I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself says military. And your conversation as you entered the room said trained at Barts, so Army doctor, obvious. Your face is tanned but no tan above the wrists. You've been abroad, but not sunbathing. Your limp's really bad when you walk, but you don't ask for a chair when you stand like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic, wounded in action then. Wounded in action, sun tan... Afghanistan or Iraq." Sherlock finished.
"You said I had a therapist." John whispered not wanting to break the heated tension that had settled over them once more.
"You've got a psychosomatic limp, of course you've got a therapist. Then there's your brother." Sherlock said suddenly reaching into John's pocket and fished out his phone. "Your phone. It's expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player. And your looking for a flatshare. You wouldn't waist money on this. It's a gift, then. Scratches. Not one, many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn't treat his one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. Next bit's easy. You know it already." He said turning the phone over to show the engraving on the back.
"The engraving?" John asked.
"'Harry Watson.' Clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to. So brother it is. Now, Clara, who's Clara?" Sherlock asked looking back at the engraving. "Three kisses says it's a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says Mate, not girlfriend. Must have given it to him recently. This model's only six months old. Bond is in trouble then, six months on he's just given it away. If she'd left him, he would have kept it. People do. Sentiment." He said growling the last word.
"No, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you. That says he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation and you're not going to your brother for help. That says you've got problems with him. Maybe you like his Mate. Maybe you don't like his drinking."
"How can you possibly know about the drinking?" John asked in amazement.
"Shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection, tiny little scuff marks around the edge of it. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man's phone, never see a drunks' without them." He said finally handing John his phone back. "There you go. See you were right."
"I was right?" John asked slightly out of breath. "Right about what?"
"The police don't consult amateurs." Sherlock said looking away sadly.
"That was amazing." John said slowly and honestly. With one look this Alpha was able to see everything about him. He knew he should be annoyed or even angry, but he wasn't, he was actually impressed and wished to see him do it again. His response seemed to come as a shock to Sherlock.
"You think so?" Sherlock asked reminding John of a shy little boy.
"Of course it was. It was extraordinary. It was quite extraordinary." John told him earnestly while looking him in the eye to let Sherlock see for himself that he was telling the truth. After reading him like a book, Sherlock smiled warmly at him.
"That's not what people normally say." Sherlock told him quietly shocking John.
"What do they say?" John asked.
"'Piss off.'" The Alpha growled out as they pulled up to the crime scene. And though John had known it was a crime scene when he followed Sherlock into the taxi, seeing the tape and multiple police officers still shocked John. He knew he had taken too long to exit the taxi when Sherlock suddenly leaned over him and open the door. When Sherlock gently nudged his side, John quickly exited the taxi and stepped aside to allow Sherlock to follow him. "Did I get anything wrong?" The Alpha asked him as he fixed his gloves looking around the crime scene. It took John a second to realize what he had been asked.
"Harry and me don't get on, never have." John informed Sherlock as they made their way to the crime scene. Him and Harry had never seen eye to eye, even before she presented as an Alpha and him as an Omega. And it didn't help when John presented as an Omega and Harry tried to dominate him like the Alpha she was and he put her on her ass. "Clara and Harry split up three months ago and they're getting a divorce, and Harry is a drinker." He confirmed and didn't have to look at the Alpha to know he was smirking.
"Spot on, then. I didn't expect to be right about everything." Sherlock said.
"Harry's short for Harriet." John told him causing the Alpha to stop walking in shock.
"Harry's your sister." The Alpha stated.
"So, what exactly am I going to be doing here?" John asked trying not to laugh at the annoyed look on Sherlock's face from that tidbit he had just told him.
"Sister!" The Alpha hissed out storming past John and over to the tape. "There's always something." He pouted as a young, black Beta glared at Sherlock when they got close enough.
"Hello, freak!" She said crossing her arms.
"I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade." Sherlock told her.
"Why?" The Beta question defensively as Sherlock slowly turned to glare at her.
"I was invited." He informed her simply.
"Why?" She growled out.
"I think he wants me to take a look." Sherlock taunted her.
"Well, you know what I think, don't you?" The Beta said.
"Always, Sally." Sherlock growled out in annoyance, voice dripping with sarcasm as he slipped under the tape, taking a deep breath as he did so. Whatever he had just smelled coming from the Beta was enough to cause him to pause and crinkle his nose in disgust. "I even know you didn't make it home last night." Sherlock told her as he held up the tape for John to slip under. As John tried to do so, the Beta (Sally) stopped him with a growl. John just looked at her with a raised eyebrow, because really, that was the best she could do? He had heard more threatening growls from kittens.
"Who's this?" Sally demanded.
"Colleague of mine, Dr Watson." Sherlock said grabbing John's wrist and gently pulled him under the tape. "Dr Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan. Old friend." Sherlock introduced, hissing out the last two words in a way that John knew was a lie even without the glare Donovan had sent him.
"A colleague?" Donovan question and John was really starting to hate her. "How do you get a colleague? Wait." Donovan turned her attention to John. "Did he follow you home?" She question.
"No, actually, I followed him home." John snapped harshly causing Donovan to flinch back, obviously not expecting a broken Omega like him to snap like that. Omegas were usually docile creatures that 'needed to be taken care of'. And though John did want an Alpha, he didn't want to be tucked away at home and 'taken care of'. The proud smirk he received from Sherlock made the shocked and slightly pissed look on Donovan's face so much sweeter.
"Freak's here. Bringing him in." She growled into her walkie as she and Sherlock lead him into the abandoned building that was their crime scene. On their way inside, John watched Sherlock look at everything and wondered what he was seeing, what stories was he being told? When they were right in front of the door, another Beta step out and blocked their way. This one was a scrawny looking male in a blue forensics suit. When he saw Sherlock his lips puckered as if he had just took a bite of a lemon.
"Ah, Anderson. Here we are again." Sherlock growled out. So this was the man that wouldn't work with Sherlock as his assistant?
"It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?" Anderson hissed out in a weak attempt of an order.
"Quite clear." Sherlock growled back in a challenge. "And is your Mate away for long?"
"Oh, don't pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you that." Anderson hissed.
"Your deodorant told me that." Sherlock said.
"My deodorant?" Anderson asked confused.
"It's for men." Sherlock informed the Beta who rolled his eyes.
"Well, of course it's for men. I'm wearing it!" Anderson cried.
"So's Sergeant Donovan." Sherlock pointed out causing Donovan to look scandalized while Anderson whipped around to look at her in shock and was that fear? "Ooh... I think it just vaporized." Sherlock said while taking a deep breath. "May we go in?"
"Now look, whatever you're trying to imply..." Anderson started threateningly.
"I'm not implying anything. I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat," Sherlock said gently taking a hold of John's wrist again and began to lead him around Anderson, John saw him glance at Sally's knees, "and just happened to stay over." Sherlock paused just inside the door, he gently pushed John further into the building before addressing the two Betas again. "And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees." With that said, Sherlock closed the door and walked passed John and further into the house.
"You'll need to wear one of these." He ordered motioning to a forensic suit laying on a table next to Detective Inspector Lestrade.
"Who's this?" The Inspector asked as John picked up the suit.
"He's with me." Sherlock said.
"But who is he?" The Inspector asked again causing Sherlock to growl at him.
"I said he's with me." Thankfully the Inspector left it at that.
"Aren't you going to put one on?" John asked as he began to put on the suit noticing that Sherlock didn't grab one. The Alpha gave John a hard look silently telling him that was a stupid question.
"So where are we?" Sherlock asked looking away from John once he was sure he would not ask anymore stupid question.
"Upstairs." The Inspector told him. After both Alpha's waited for John to finish putting on the suit, they began to walk away. John followed after them as quick as he could limp and nearly screamed in annoyance when they began heading up three flights of stairs. "I can give you two minutes."
"May need longer." Sherlock told him, and was John imagining things or had Sherlock just slowed down when he had begun struggling?
"Her name's Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards, we're running them now for contact details. Hasn't been here long. Some kids found her." The Inspector informed them as Sherlock glanced back at John who smiled silently letting him know he was fine. Once they had got to the room where the victim was, John was shocked to see an Omega woman dressed in nothing but pink. It was almost like looking at a bottle of pepto in human form. Sherlock wasted no time in beginning to examine the body.
"Shut up." He growled out at Lestrade.
"I didn't say anything." Lestrade said.
"You were thinking. It's annoying." Sherlock growled out. He stared at the body for a couple of seconds before kneeling down and rubbed a hand across the woman's back and examined his fingers. Sherlock quickly searched the woman and pulled out a white umbrella from her left pocket. He checked the collar of her jacket before pulling out a magnifying glass and began checking her left wrist and hand. John tilted his head in slight confusion when Sherlock took off the woman's Bonding ring and began to examine it before slipping it back on to her finger.
"Got anything?" The Inspector asked as Sherlock began to take off his gloves.
"Not much." He said standing up.
"She's German." Anderson announced from the door way as Sherlock began to dig in the inside pocket of his jacket before pulling out his phone. "Rache. It's German for 'revenge'." Anderson said as Sherlock walked over towards the door. "She could be trying to tell us something..."
"Yes, thank you for your input." Sherlock said slamming the door closed in Anderson's face.
"So she's German?" The Inspector asked.
"Of course she's not." Sherlock growled out in annoyance as he began to look something up on his phone. "She's from out of town though. Intended to stay in London for one night before returning home to Cardiff." He said putting his phone away. "So far, so obvious."
"Maybe to you." John said with a playful smirk.
"What about the message, though?" The Inspector asked.
"Dr Watson, what do you think?" Sherlock asked softly.
"Of the message?" John asked in confusion. If it wasn't German for revenge, then maybe it was Rachel.
"Of the body. You're a medical man." Sherlock said nodded towards the body.
"Hold on, we have a whole team right outside." The Inspector said sounding slightly offended.
"They won't work with me." Sherlock told him.
"I'm breaking every rule letting you in here..." The Inspector started.
"Yes, because you need me." Sherlock said in a tone that stated this was then end of that discussion. The Inspector sighed in resigned annoyance before leaving the room. John sighed and hobbled over to the body before using his cane to ease down to the floor. Once he was safely on the floor, Sherlock, who had been hovering slightly, knelt beside him.
John went into Doctor mode. He took a deep breath and noticed that she was not actually an Omega, but a Beta hiding her scent and using Omega based products to smell like one. But other than that there was no other smells. He glanced up at Sherlock who was watching him. Was this a test? It was obvious that this woman had taken poison, she was the fourth suicide victim. John checked her skin and noticed no discolorization. If this was a test, what was he supposed to find that hadn't already been mention in the papers? After checking everything he could think of, John looked over at Sherlock.
"Well?" Sherlock asked.
"Right, so she's not an actual Omega. She's taking suppressants to hide her Beta scent and using Omega based products to make herself smell like an Omega. Why I am unsure of. It's obvious she's taken poison, but anyone who's read the news papers could tell that. She died of Asphyxiation, due to the poison, again obvious. There is no scent of Alcohol or anything other than rain and her false Omega scent that is fading to allow her natural Beta scent to come out. It's clearly been 24 hours since she has last taken her suppressants." John trailed off at the intense look he was receiving from Sherlock, had he said something wrong?
"Sherlock, two minutes, I said, I need anything you got." The Inspector demanded shocking John who hadn't realized he had come back in.
"Victim is in her late 30's, and as John just clearly stated, is pretending to be an Omega. Professional person, going by her clothes." Sherlock said gently grabbing John's upper arm and helped him stand up as he stood up. "I'm guessing something in the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Traveled from Cardiff today intending to stay in London one night." Sherlock began to look around the room for something. "It's obvious from the size of her suitcase."
"Suitcase?" The Inspector asked.
"Suitcase, yes. She's been Bonded at least 10 years, but not happily. She's had a string of lover but none of them knew she was both Bonded and a Beta." Sherlock said still looking around the room making John wonder what he was looking for or at.
"Oh, for God's sake, if you're just making this up..." The Inspector growl out threateningly.
"Her Bonding ring." Sherlock growled at the challenge the Inspector had issued. "Ten years old at least." He made his way back to the body and knelt in front of her head. "The rest of her jewelry has been regularly cleaned, but not her Bonding ring. State of her bond right there." He pointed out before standing back up. "The inside is shinier than the outside. That means it's regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It's not her work, look at her nails." John did. "She doesn't work with her hands so what or rather who does she remove her rings for?" John looked at Sherlock in amazement that he got all that from her Bonding ring. "Clearly not one lover, she'd never sustain the fiction of being single and an Omega over that amount of time, so more likely a sting of them. Simple."
"That's brilliant." John breathed out not even realizing he has said something until Sherlock was looking at him shocked. "Sorry." He muttered in embarrassment.
"Cardiff?" The Inspector asked.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Sherlock asked.
"Not to me." John said shaking his head.
"Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains, it must be so boring." Sherlock muttered. "Her coat. It's slightly damp. She's been in heavy rain the last few hours. No rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp too. She's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her left hand pocket but it's dry and unused. Not just wind, strong wind, too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight so she must have come a decent distance, but she can't have traveled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried." Sherlock reached into the inside pocket of his jacket once more and pulled out his phone. "So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time?" He unlocked his phone and held it up for the Inspector to see whatever was on the screen. "Cardiff."
"Fantastic." John breathed out, once again not realizing he has said anything, causing a light dusting of pink to appear on Sherlock's face when he turned to look at him before moving over to him.
"Do you know you do that out loud?" He asked bending down just enough to whisper in John's ear causing him to blush.
"Sorry, I'll shut up." He told the Alpha quietly.
"No, it... fine." Sherlock told him giving John an odd look, and John felt as if Sherlock was once again about to scent him, kiss him, or both and he didn't know if he liked the feeling or not.
"Why do you keep saying suitcase?" The Inspector asked cutting into their strange little moment causing Sherlock to jolt back as if he had been shocked.
"Yes, where is it?" Sherlock demanded and began to look around the room once more. "She must have had a phone or an organizer. Find out who Rachel is."
"She was writing Rachel?" The Inspector asked and even John was shocked that he hadn't figured that one out.
"No, she was leaving an angry note in German." Sherlock snapped out causing John to bite back a laugh. "Of course she was writing Rachel, no other word it can be. Question is, why did she wait until she was dying to write it?"
"How do you know she had a suitcase?" The Inspector demanded.
"Back of the right leg." Sherlock said pointing to the leg. "Tiny splash marks on the right heel and calf not present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand. Don't get that splash pattern any other way. Smallish case, going by the spread. Case that size, woman this clothes-conscious, could only be an overnight bag so we know she was staying one night. Where is it, what have you done with it?"
"There wasn't a case." The Inspector told Sherlock who had knelt down to examine the woman again. This news caused Sherlock to shoot back up with an excited look in his eyes.
"Say that again." Sherlock ordered.
"There wasn't a case. There was never any suitcase." The Inspector told him and Sherlock was out the door.
"Suitcase! Did anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?" He called running down the stairs.
"Sherlock, there's no case!" The Inspector called back to him as John limped out of the room to find Sherlock stopped on the stairs.
"But they take the poison themselves. They chew, swallow the pills themselves. There are clear signs, even you lot can't miss them." Sherlock said before continuing down the stairs.
"Right, yeah, thanks. And?" The Inspector asked impatiently causing Sherlock to stop again.
"It's murder, all of them. I don't know how. But they're not suicides. They're killings, serial killings." Sherlock said before looking like a little boy about to open his presents on Christmas day and continued down the stairs. "We've got a serial killer. Love those. There's always something to look forward to."
"Why are you saying that?" The Inspector asked.
"Her case! Come on, where is her case? Did she eat it? Someone else was here, and they took her case." Sherlock said before looking as if he figured something out. "So the killer must have driven her here. Forgot the case was in the car."
"She could have left it at a hotel." John suggested.
"No, she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair. She colour-coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She'd never have left any hotel with her hair still looking..." Sherlock had figured something else out. "Oh... Oh!"
"Sherlock?" John asked curious as to what he had just realized.
"What is it, what?" The Inspector asked.
"Serial killers, always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake." Sherlock said with a smirk.
"We can't just wait!" The Inspector yelled.
"Oh, we're done waiting. Look at her, really look! Houston, we have a mistake. Get on to Cardiff. Find out who Jennifer Wilson's family and friends were. Find Rachel!" Sherlock ordered getting to the ground floor.
"Of course, yeah, but what mistake?" The Inspector demanded.
"Pink!" Sherlock yelled before finally leaving. It took John a second to understand what he meant. Were they looking for a pink suitcase?