ABRIELLE'S POV

About ten minutes later, after finally getting to the police station and demanding to be let into Lukis' flat, we got to the small shed like building and found our way to the right room. I followed Sherlock under the putrid yellow police tape and went up the stairs, my eyes looking at every little detail as I walked. My eyes scanning past the empty suitcase and the millions of different books as it logged each and every thing into my brain. Well, at least they did, until I noticed the tiny black piece of paper that seemed to be glinting in the sunlight. This had been a hit, no doubt about that. The black lotus gang had killed this man on purpose … but how?

I looked around, searching for a way … any way an intruder could have come in. And that's when I saw it. A skylight no bigger than a piece of paper stood on the ceiling, the width and length just the perfect size for a certain gymnast to get into the flat. The same gymnast that had found his way into the bank office, which means only thing … these murders were connected.

"Four floors up. That's why they think they're safe. Put a chain across the door and bolt it shut; think they're impregnable." Sherlock explained, snapping me directly out of my thinking process. His eyes scanning the living room until it came to rest upon the very skylight I had observed mere minutes ago.

"You're dealing with a killer who can climb. Like I said before, he was probably a gymnast at some point." I stated, looking directly at John to see if maybe he'd make the connection as well. I mean, he was after all my brother, and he was very smart when he wanted to be …

"So how'd he get in?" John asked, looking at the pair of us in question. Alright … so maybe he wouldn't figure it out himself. It must be so very dull in that tiny little brain of his … even the most simplistic problems become complex in his eyes. The killer obviously didn't walk in from the front door, so there is only one other answer that would make any sense at all in this case.

"The skylight. Basically, the killer climbed up the side of the walls, ran along the roof and dropped in through that window." I explained to him, making sure that he understood what I was saying before continuing on.

"He did the same to Van Coon, he scaled six floors of a Docklands apartment building, and jumped the balcony to kill him. And of course that's how he got into the bank. He ran along the window ledge …"

"And then dropped gracefully onto the terrace. All we have to do is find out what connects these two men." Sherlock finished for me, smirking toward me as though stealing my thunder would actually bother me. Which … it did, but I wasn't going to tell him that. Well, duh we have to find out what connects these two men … but did you really have to stop me in the middle of my sentence to say that … really?

"Yuppers. It's the easiest way to catch the killer." I confirmed, smiling right back at Sherlock.

"Alright then … how do we do that?" John questioned, unsure of what to do next.

"It's called using your eyes, John."

"I'm not a genius like you I don't have the whole crime scene memorized, Bree. I can't very well find the similarities if I don't remember what the other place looked like." John answered back, gesturing around him in a rather dramatic way.

"It's a similarity even you could spot." I said in a sing song voice, trying my best to annoy the crap out of him, like only a sibling could.

"Wait … you already know. So why are playing this whole guessing game?" He questioned, his eyes crinkling up in confusion. Did he really forget things that easily, I always used to do this when we were younger. It was just like a game … very similar to those 'I Spy' books, but it used memorisation skills and deductions to spot the similarities of two different places. We even had a name for it and everything. So why would John even ask why I'm doing this whole 'guessing game'?

"Because I want to test your observation skills, just like when we were younger John. Now use your eyes and look around." I stated, explaining my obvious reasoning to him and gesturing around the room just as dramatically as he had previously.

I watched, looking as he tried to look around the room, his eyes glazed over and confused as though he were trying to solve the world's hardest math problem. "Alright … um … is it the fact that they both live alone?" He said hesitantly, his words stumbling out of his mouth as slowly as they possibly could.

"No, it's much more simple than that."

"I don't know … just tell me." He said in a huff, frowning at my little blast to the past game session. Oh John, just as oblivious as always …

" both have got to own at least one of the same books." I explained, showing him the millions of books scattered all around the small apartment.

"Right. You do know that I don't have the same observational skills as you, right Ellie?" He questioned, looking at me with annoyance in his eyes. My nose simply crinkling up at the nickname Ellie. Ugh, I hated the name Ellie. No, more then that … I LOATHED it. It was a horrendous name, and to make matters worse John knew I loathed that nickname. He freaking KNEW, and yet he still felt the need to call me by that name. Abrielle was fine. Bree was fine. Even Brielle was fine. But Ellie … no … just, no. I know that he's trying to have a little fun, tease me a little bit because I made him play that memorisation game. But calling me Ellie? And even worse … smiling about it after the fact like he was now. That was passing the line. Maybe he wouldn't have that same little smirk when I teased him, shall we see then how he feels about this all?

"Maybe if you used your eyes a little more you'd have noticed the vast amounts of books, Johnny boy." I stated, giving him an evil glare that I'm sure could very well kill a person if they looked for too long. Yes, that's right I offended him and called him Johnny all in one, how awfully kind of me. It's not like this was my first time in the rodeo. I knew how this worked. I was after all the younger annoying sister. It was my destiny.

"Oh, not that horrid nickname." John stated, also crinkling up his nose in distaste to the nickname.

"You know I hate it when you call me Ellie. So, when you call me Ellie then I call you Johnny. Simple as that." I replied, giving him a fairly simple, fairly mean warning as to what would go down if he ever decided to call me Ellie EVER in a public or nonpublic … or an type of public setting.

"Come on … really?" John replied, looking at me as though I were being ridiculous. No, I was not being ridiculous. No, this was not some stupid rule. This was serious. Really serious. No one was allowed to say that name in front of me or behind my back for any reasons whatsoever. Even if I was dying and the only way to save me was to call me by the name that must never be named. It was not allowed to be said. Ever. Not even John thinking this whole thing was ridiculous would ever change that. This warning was law … and nothing, and I mean NOTHING would change that.

"Speaking of books …" Sherlock said, trying to pull our conversation back to the murderers at hand. I stopped my rant, watching as Sherlock took a book off of one of the top stacks on the stairs and looking at the cover. A smile taking over his face as he tossed it to me. I looked at it, the cover staring back at me as I looked at the inside, the very obvious clue staring back at me as I slammed it shut and raced down the stairs, the book still tightly grasped in my hand.

"Let's head to the library!" I exclaimed, the other two following in my footsteps. I was close, so very close to Shan I could feel it. This was it, the clue that would lead me to her. The clue that would lead me straight into the snake pit. But I was ready … oh yes, I've been ready for a long time. And I'm sure that Shan has been ready as well. Oh, yes Shan may think she is ready for the battle, the finishing of the fight that had long since gone, or the revenge that she so dearly wanted. Shan may think she is ready, with her fangs sharpened and her poison ready to take effect. But what she isn't ready for is me. I'm close Shan, and I am ready. You can't hide behind origami paper forever. Ready or not, Shan because I'm coming to find you. And when I do you'll wish I hadn't.