"What?" Sherlock asked, his brows furrowing in confusion as he took a step closer to Joan. "No, Watson, I..." he paused, glancing at the surprised faces of Gregson and Bell, before continuing to speak in a slightly lower tone. "It would be too much, it-"
"No, really, it's fine. I've been thinking about it and I think it is a possible solution to our current stagnation."
"And for you?" Sherlock asked incredulously, before checking himself, and continuing in a more compassionate tone. "How would it be for you?"
"What's going on, here?" Gregson interjected, staring confusedly at Joan. She sighed for a moment, before casting a nervous glance towards Sherlock, who was watching her with fear alight in his eyes. Once all of the men's attention was upon her, she began to recount her first meeting with Jake in the coffee shop, followed by their date and her subsequent injury, which she stressed was completely accidental. Gregson and Bell appeared shocked at this, and Sherlock was attempting to control himself by drumming his fingers upon his thigh as she spoke, whilst trying to discern her current emotional state from her body language. He did not know why she was making such a suggestion, or what her logic for the decision was. But he did not think it was a good idea, not for her, and not now. For once, he found himself caring more about the person than the puzzle.
"Okay, Miss Watson" Gregson uttered eventually, drawling his words out in a manner which added an extra syllable to each word. "I get your... investment in this, but-"
"No, Captain, you misunderstand me. There is no investment. I am not invested for some personal reason relating to Jake Thompson. I just think that, given our... history, for lack of a better word, my presence in that room would be disarming. It would throw him off his game. He's maintained his silence on certain areas because he is clearly convinced that we have nothing on him. If the evidence and the interviewers aren't compelling him to talk, then let's shake it up. Worst case scenario, he doesn't reveal a thing, and we're in the same position we are now. But this has the potential to work for us, for his victims. We at least owe it to them to give it a shot."
"I must stress how much I disagree with this idea, Watson. Really, I... I don't believe that this is something we should be entertaining at the present moment" Sherlock stated, in his usual rapid and excitable tone.
"It'll be fine, Sherlock" she soothed, watching him with warmth and gratitude as she addressed him. "Nothing is going to happen. You guys will be right behind the glass, and I-"
"Wait, Watson, you... you wish to go in completely unassisted?" Sherlock asked, his eyes widening in surprise as he took another step towards her, until his tall figure was looming over her own. She tilted her head to the side briefly, before turning back to him and glaring at him with conviction.
"Like I said, I think it would throw him off-guard, which will mean that he is more likely to make a mistake, forget about a previous lie that he's told, or unwittingly disclose something that we can work with" she spoke calmly and confidently, watching him intently as he processed each word. "I've sat in on interviews before, and I've hosted them too, it's not an issue."
"You have never led an interview by yourself, Watson. Not with a witness or a victim, and certainly not with a man who we have very good reason to believe could be a salacious, violent serial-killer who has previously tried to court you, and possibly add you to his vastly expanding list of victims!" Sherlock spoke incredulously, his voice raised and shaking slightly, yet not filled with anger or remonstration. It was fear, confusion and utter bewilderment. He did not understand why she was doing this, or what she was trying to prove. His mind was racing with ideas and possible explanations as he watched her with complete and utter confusion, awaiting her response.
"I don't fit his victim profile" she replied in a slow and calm manner, using the tone she always used when trying to placate him. It had always reminded Sherlock of the way in which a teacher would explain a complex issue to a small and fairly difficult child. "He wasn't going to hurt me, Sherlock. If he was, he could have done so when I was bleeding profusely in his apartment. Besides, it isn't consistent with the killer's MO. He attacks his victims at their place of work, he doesn't invite them into his own personal space and slay them amid the candlelight."
"Candlelight?" he repeated in a childish manner, causing Joan to offer him a small smile, which the expression in his eyes returned. Although he was still apprehensive, he understood her logic and, although he would not admit it, he agreed with her. But just because she was not in any apparent immediate danger that night did not mean that she would not be in the future, and it certainly did not mean that she was safe now. As these thoughts entered his mind, he began to feel similar feelings of fear and anxiety which he had experienced on the previous occasions when Watson had been injured, as well as on the occasions when he had been considering the best way to protect her following their brief yet memorable romantic alliances. "I don't like it, Watson" he uttered in a whispered tone.
"It'll be okay, Sherlock" she responded warmly. "You'll be just behind the glass."
"Yeah, but I won't" Gregson interposed, removing his hands from his pockets as he watched Joan with an expression which mirrored her own. "I get your logic, Miss Watson, and I agree. But I also understand what Holmes is sayin', and I agree with that too. So, the condition of you doing this interview is that I will be by your side, at all times."
"Fine" Joan conceded, nodding towards him. Procedurally, it made sense. Technically she was a civilian and, although she was uncertain of just how the interview would progress, she did not wish to do anything which could result in the statements of Jake being deemed inadmissible in court. As much as anything else, she wished the victims of the killer to have justice. She would not compromise that. "When can we begin?"
"As soon as you're caught up on the case, the current evidence, and his previous interviews" Gregson responded immediately, before walking ahead of Joan and leading her towards a desk at the back of the room. He drew a seat forward for her, which she accepted, sitting herself down and placing her hands on her thighs, before turning her head to face Sherlock. He was standing in the same spot he had been, but had turned his body to face her. The look in his eyes was of fear and desperation, and it compelled her attention and would not allow her to break his gaze.
"Miss Watson?" Gregson called, pushing a folder across the desk.
"Yeah" she breathed, still staring at Sherlock. The latter shifted on the spot slightly, before turning and walking from the room. Joan watched after him for a few seconds, and was only drawn from her staring by Gregson, who called her name one more time. "Sorry, where were we?"
Gregson and Joan discussed the victims, details of the case so far, and the personal and professional profile of Jake Thompson. They remained at the table for just under thirty minutes. About fifteen minutes into their discussion, Joan became aware of the fact that Sherlock had re-entered the room. She knew it was him before she even turned to observe him. She couldn't explain how, she just did. At that particular moment, she had been perusing the criminal files on Jake, and only allowed herself to be drawn from them when a medium-sized paper bag was placed in front of her. Joan removed her glasses and placed them on the desk, before pulling the bag towards her cautiously, and peering inside. She opened her mouth to speak, before turning to face Sherlock directly, and watching him warmly.
"You bought me a club sandwich from my favourite shop?" she asked gently, knowing that he found such acts of altruism, on his part at least, to be difficult subjects to discuss.
"I bought you some coffee, too" he stated simply, placing a large cup in front of her. It was her regular order from the coffee shop owned by the family whose daughter she assisted. She had never told him about the place before, but his knowledge of it didn't surprise her.
"Thank you" she smiled, pulling the cup closer towards her. "Hang on a sec, these shops are like, what, ten blocks apart? How did you get there and back in fifteen minutes?"
"I used a taxi, Watson. Those hire-able vehicles which take you from your location to your destination for a fee, New York is full of them, I believe" he stated in a conversational tone.
"I guess you didn't try hailing them with your whistle, again" she stated playfully, raising the coffee to her lips. "Otherwise you'd still be standing outside the precinct."
Sherlock looked at her with a black expression, but warm and content eyes. "Thirteen."
"What?" she asked.
"The establishments are thirteen blocks apart."
"Right" she stated simply, smiling up at him, and finding herself temporarily lost in the moment. "Thank you, Sherlock. It was very thoughtful of you."
"Not at all, Watson. You will require your strength, both mental and physical, for this interview" he stated, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. "And I will assist you in any way that I can. Starting with this" he stated, gesturing dismissively to the items he had just placed before her.
"Thanks" she stated warmly, pulling the sandwich from the bag, and breaking it in half. "Split it with me?" Sherlock hesitated for a moment, before drawing out the chair which was next to her own, easing himself slowly into it, and accepting the sandwich. Sherlock and Joan remained seated for the next quarter of an hour, during which time they ate and discussed the case, whilst Sherlock attempted to do everything within his power to prepare her for the interview.
When Joan had been fully debriefed, and had prepared herself as much as she was able to, she was escorted by Captain Gregson to the interview room in which Jake had been taken. She paused outside it for a moment, turning towards Sherlock, determined to convey her gratitude.
"Thank you, Sherlock" she began. "Thank you for your help."
"It was just a sandwich" he stated simply.
"It was more than just a sandwich" she responded. "But I appreciate the food, too" she stated amiably. "What I'm grateful for is that you helped me even when you didn't completely agree with what I was doing. I know you weren't happy with my choice, but you did everything you could to help me anyway, despite how difficult it was for you."
"You needed to be fully prepared before you embarked upon... this" Sherlock stated, indicating towards the closed door. "There is absolutely no way I would allow you to be placed in a situation where you are not completely and utterly prepared: armed with the facts and aware of the possible outcomes."
"I'm not sure that anyone can ever be that prepared."
"We can try, Watson" he responded, his eyes widening and becoming slightly glassy. "We can learn from past experiences and ensure that we use said experiences to prepare others facing the same difficulties." For a moment, just a moment, Joan felt something in her mind click into place. But before she had time to process her thoughts, or consider them further, Gregson was calling her name.
"Are you ready, Miss Watson?"
"Yeah" she replied a moment later, before turning her head regretfully from Sherlock, and towards Gregson and the door. "I'm ready". Gregson considered her for a moment, before nodding slowly, and opening the door with his right hand. He entered the room first, and Joan followed briskly behind. She found her mind pushing her previous thoughts away as it became filled with facts and details from the files she had been reading. As Captain Gregson took a step towards the table, pulling out a seat for Joan and then one for himself, she found herself standing just feet away from Jake Thompson, who was staring up at her with a look of immense confusion and incredible surprise.
"Joan?" he breathed, shifting in his seat as he turned to face her, causing his hands to chafe in his cuffs. "What are you... are you a cop?"
"I consult with the police" she responded mechanically, sounding more confident than she currently felt. "I am assisting them with this case" she continued, stepping closer to the table and easing herself into the seat. She then clasped her hands together and rested them in front of her, before looking at Jake with an expression of calmness and conviction.
"This case?" he repeated, glancing from her to Gregson, and back towards her. "There is no 'this case', okay? I am not involved with this, any of this. I haven't hurt anyone, Joan. You of all people must know that."
"Actually, I don't" she responded simply. "Which is why I'm here."
"Wait, you... you think I did this?" he asked incredulously, raising his hands in frustration as he fell back in his seat, deflated. "I could never harm a woman."
"Really?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she flicked open a file which Gregson had placed in front of her. "So if I call Amelia Jennings from Ohio, or Melody Reladine from San Diego, are they gonna confirm that?"
Jake swallowed hard, before parting his lips slightly and leaning forward on the desk. Joan remained perfectly still and calm, her tired eyes resting upon his face, as he prepared himself to speak.
"Those were misunderstandings" he stated in a low tone, before raising his hands defensively. "I didn't touch them."
"And yet you were convicted for stalking, burglary and assault in relation to both of those women" Joan stated simply, briefly scanning the file once more, before turning her face up to face him. "Or are those mistakes too?"
Jake sighed, shaking his head in disbelief, before turning to face Joan with a look of defiance. "This is ridiculous. Yes, I have a part. Yes, I have some previous convictions. But I was innocent then and I am innocent now. All I am guilty of is having the misfortune of going out with a couple of crazy chicks who overreacted."
"Were the women you killed 'crazy'?" Joan asked, tilting her head slightly to the left as she gauged his response. "Did they 'overreact' to your advances too?" Jake scoffed at her remarks, crossing his arms across his chest, but not offering an immediate response. "I guess you have a type" Joan stated simply.
"Believe me, Joan" he began, adopting a flirtatious tone which reminded her very much of their first encounter. "I don't". From behind the glass, the words of this man, and the way in which he expressed them, vexed Sherlock deeply. He clenched his fists and held them tightly by his side, as she stared at the man who was speaking in such a manner to a woman he did not deserve. Joan stared at Jake with an indecipherable expression on her face, and waited patiently for him to continue. "I did not kill anyone."
"Well you'll forgive us if we don't just take your word for it" Gregson interjected, leaning back in his seat as he crossed his arms. "Now, in your past two interviews you have declined to tell us where you were on the evenings the victims died, and you have been less than forthcoming in other information, so, how about you start telling us the truth?"
"I have not lied to you, Detective" he responded acidly, his eyes glistening with anger. Joan had not seen this side of him before, and it was deeply unsettling. At that precise moment, she found herself wondering whether the expression that she was considering now was the last thing the three young women saw before they died. The thought made her want to weep. "I did not kill those women" he stated firmly, drawing Joan from her thoughts.
"But you knew them, didn't you?" Joan asked in a low yet conversational tone, which drew his attention instantly towards her, and his voice softened. "We have witnesses who confirm that you were seen working in the same building as the first victim, Melissa van Vale. Another witness also states that you were acquainted with Alana Morentez, the third victim. In fact, you were witnessed arguing with Miss Morentez, and threatening her." Joan continued, pausing for a moment to allow Jake to consider her words, and to study the look of fear and concern which had swept across his face. "Or is that a misunderstanding too?"
"Look, I... I'm a freelance accountant. I work with for many companies in many buildings in several cities. I run into people all the time, you can't possibly expect me to remember every single person I meet."
"Of course not, no. Which is why we can subpoena your financial history from the past year to find out exactly where you have been working, and who for. Of course, it would be simpler and much better for you if you just come clean right now" Joan stated simply. "Do you deny knowing Melissa van Vale, who was the CEO of J&F Dynamics?"
"I... I worked there about... I dunno, three or four months ago, maybe? I did some work for a couple of people, so... I guess I must have met the CEO" he stated, his voice trailing off as he spoke in a fractured manner, his face adopting an expression of confusion and mild panic. "But I... I don't remember her, I... I can't picture her face and the name doesn't sound familiar."
"Maybe this will help" stated Gregson, passing him a photograph of Melissa van Vale, which he looked at for a few seconds, before shaking his head and pushing the image back towards the Captain.
"She... she seems familiar but I... I don't know." He stated, his voice low and slightly dejected.
Joan nodded in understanding, before passing him another photograph from one of the files in front of her. "This is Alexis Mathers" she stated, placing a photograph in front of him, before pushing another one besides it. "And this is Alana Morentez. These women are victims two and three respectively, and they both worked for the legal firm Hadley and Rae. Do you know either of these women?"
"I..." he began, raising his hands defensively, before pushing the photos back towards Gregson. "This doesn't make sense, I... I'm being set up, or something, I..."
"Right, right." Said Gregson, not even attempting to hide his disbelief.
"So you do know them?" Joan asked, tilting her head slightly as she awaited his response.
"Yes. Yes, I knew them. But it's not what you think."
"So you worked for them, in your capacity as an accountant?" Joan asked, placing the photographs back into her files.
"I... I worked for Miss Morentez for a short while, I assisted her with the accounts of her department. There were some anomalies which needed ironing out, so I was working there for a short period of time. But I did not kill her."
"What did you do?" Joan asked, watching him with curiosity. His body language had changed dramatically, and was practically radiating guilt.
"We... we had a thing, okay? A very short, very brief fling. It... it didn't mean anything, it didn't last." He spoke simply, gesturing with his hands as he did so. Joan listened to him speaking, but did not believe a word. He had changed since his last statements, and was adopting a different tone of voice. He was more hunched in his chair, and was not making eye contact with either herself or Gregson, which he had been doing with conviction when answering each of the previous questions. Although he had displayed some physical characteristics which led her to be quite certain that he was lying about his innocence in regards to his past. But he spoke more confidently and with more believability when he denied killing the women. She almost believe him. But he was lying again now, and she wanted to know why.
"You're claiming that you had a romantic affair with the third victim, Miss Morentez?" she asked.
"Yes. Yes, I did."
"Were you aware that she was engaged?"
"Yes. Which was why we had to be discreet. We met in her office after work and... you know."
"Hmm" Joan hummed, running her finger down the spine of the second file of the stack in front of her, which she drew out from the pile, pulling it towards her and flicking through the pages, before she found the relevant highlighted section. "I did not physically harm her. We were having an affair. It didn't long and was purely physical. I ended it after a short while, which she was upset about. She's doing this out of revenge." Joan read, before placing the open file in front of her, and glaring hard at Jake. "That is what you said in April 2006 when you were interviewed about the stalking and assault of Melody Reladine, right after you were caught assaulting her in her home." Joan stated, finding herself becoming more confident as the interview progressed. He was sticking to the script of his previous interviews in relation to this case, but was clearly disarmed by her presence, and by the manner by which she was directing the interview. He was clearly being dishonest and he was not covering his tracks very well. "This must be getting quite frustrating for you, being faced with all these false allegations."
Jake didn't respond to this declaration, and simply stared hard at Joan, not breaking her gaze.
"Although, Miss Reladine's statement was very different, wasn't it? She claimed that she met you when one of the accountants you worked with at your private firm was unable to see her, so you filled in. She said that you were "aggressively flirtatious" and "wouldn't accept either subtle hints or direct requests to desist"." Joan paused for a moment, lifting her eyes from the file once more as she stared back at him. "Is that what happened with Miss Morentez, Jake? She was a very moral, kind and compassionate person who was, by all accounts, completely devoted to her fiance. She upheld values of honesty and integrity. I don't believe that she was having an affair. Did she reject your advances, infuriating you, and leading to you attacking her in her office? And then turning up to her new place to threaten her into silence?"
"Okay" he said, raising one hand as high as he was able within his restraints. "Look, I... I did flirt with her and yes, some may have viewed my actions as... persistent. But I did not harm her."
"You have a history of stalking and violent behaviour against women. You refuse to give us an alibi for any of the three crimes, you had knowledge of the buildings which the victims worked in, and you worked for each of their companies. You also admit to having met at least two of the three victims in the past four months." Joan summarised, before pausing once more and watching as Jake's breathing increased and his eyes became glassy. "So you'll understand if your claims that you didn't harm these women are not enough to convince us, won't you? Particularly as they mirror the statements you made in the past, all of which led to convictions."
"Joan, I... I know what this looks like, but... I don't understand what's going on here, I don't, I..." he paused, raising his hands in frustration once more. Jake was becoming flushed and confused, which was utterly eroding his formerly cool and calm demeanour.
"Tell me the truth, Jake" she responded, in a warm and conversational tone. "Tell me the truth and I might be able to help you."
There was an uncomfortable silence which filled the room, during which time none of the parties knew what was going to happen. Jake was staring at Joan intently, as if hoping the script to his next response would be etched upon her face. But it was not. All he saw there was certainty, self-assuredness and conviction. Ironically, from behind the glass, this is exactly what Sherlock was viewing in his partner. But instead of consuming him with complete and unabated terror, he was filled him with pride, awe and gratitude.
Jake sighed deeply, placing one hand on his head and rubbing his temple gently, before leaning back in his chair. He inhaled sharply, before clasping his hands together and leaning forward slightly, adopting a position which was almost identical to Joan's own.
"Okay. I... I will give you full disclosure, Joan, but... you must know that I am telling you the truth." He looked up at Joan expectantly, traces of panic clearly etched upon his features, before he continued to speak. "Alana and I spent a lot of time together. Her accounts were a mess, she... she really wasn't too great with paperwork, and... look, I... we flirted, a bit, and when we... she changed her mind, before anything happened, and I-" he paused for a moment, considering how best to frame his next statement. "Maybe I was a bit... overly keen, okay? Persistent, yeah, sure. She was pretty, she was sweet and I... we hit it off, right away. I thought she was having doubts because of her fiance, but... I dunno." He paused, raising his hands slightly before lacing his fingers together once more, and looking up to face Joan. "She was always making me cups of coffee, smiling and laughing with me, asking about my day. She was-"
"Being a kind, decent and considerate human being?" Joan interjected.
"It was more than that." he countered.
"Was it? Why?"
"It was obvious!" he declared, his eyes alight and his features alert.
"How, Jake?" Joan asked calmly and considerately, pouncing on his unintentional slip-up. "How does that behaviour equate to flirting? Or to an acceptance of your advances?"
"What else could it be? She was always like that with me, always trying to talk to me, engage me in conversation. She... exhilarated me. One day I tried to show her I was interested in her advances, that her advances were reciprocated. She..." He continued, clenching his teeth slightly as he paused.
"Overreacted?" Joan asked, attempting to conceal her disdain.
"Yeah" Jake stated defiantly, staring hard at Joan. "She pushed me away and acted shocked, you know? The look on her face, she... it was just-" he paused for a moment, attempting to control his rising temper. "She apologised to me for the 'misunderstanding' and said she didn't intend on leading me on. We... it got heated, yes. I told her what I thought of her, and she just... she stood there, quiet, not yelling back not arguing, not... just listening. She apologised again, real calm, you know? Then asked me to leave her office. She resigned a few days later."
"She resigned?" Joan asked. "Just like that?"
"She overreacted."
"No, I don't she did. I think that whatever transpired between you guys in that office is something which is far greater than what you told me. I think that she left, abruptly, because she was afraid. And I think you followed her to her new place of work, as you did with the two women you are convicted of having stalked and assaulted." Joan spoke in a low, solemn tone, and watched Jake with interest as she did so. The look in his eyes told her all she needed to know about the accuracy of her deduction. "She didn't tell anyone, you know. Not even her fiance. And I suspect we will never know exactly what happened. But what we do know is that you frightened her, so much so that she changed jobs. But you couldn't let her go, could you? Her leaving her job was like her rejecting you, and that was not something you would be able to process."
"You're wrong" he stated simply, glaring harshly at Joan.
"I wish I was?" Joan stated simply. "You went to her office another day, didn't you? A few weeks ago, late at night, when you thought she was the only one in? What, did you wait til it was dark and she was alone so she'd feel vulnerable and unprotected, so you could frighten her?" She asked. Jake shifted slightly in his seat, and swallowed hard, but did not verbally respond to her question. He didn't have to. "From the personal accounts of Miss Morentez, from statements gathered by her friends and colleagues, she was not confrontational. She was patient, compassionate, open-minded. It's why she was so good at what she did, she was approachable. I expect she tried to reason with you, attempt to establish some common ground, and explain calmly and concisely that she did not share your feelings, and that she wanted you to leave. Was a second rejection too much for you?"
Jake flushed slightly, and appeared to be notably more uncomfortable than he had been previously. He was lying, and he had been caught out. And he knew it.
"That's why you went to her office that night, isn't it? To threaten her, as you have done to so many women. You couldn't bear not being in control, could you? Be undermined? And certainly not by a woman. And whilst you were stalking her, you came across Alexis Mathers, a beautiful young woman in the same building, who bears a notable resemblance to Miss Morentez. Did you release your anger on her first?"
"No." He breathed, his eyes ablaze. "I didn't hurt either of those women. And Alana Morentez was no saint."
"Oh?"
"No. She flirted with me, led me on. When I was assigned to her new building, and I saw her again, we talked, she apologised, and that was that."
"She apologised? For what?" Joan asked, successfully hiding her incredulity.
"For how she acted last time, when she overreacted. She was overly sensitive."
"Was she?"
Jake watched her for a few moments, before tilting his head to one side and scoffing audibly, closing his eyes briefly before beginning to speak.
"I didn't touch her, Joan. I assure you."
"I don't believe you."
"Just like I didn't touch you." Joan paused for a moment, and felt her shoulder begin to ache slightly with the allusion to the incident. "I... I was fond of Miss Morentez, Joan, just like I was fond of you. I do not wish to see any of the women I... I like, harmed. I find them exhilarating, you see. Much more so alive than dead."
"Is that so?"
"It is" he replied, his voice adopting an arrogant tone which Joan found to be highly distasteful.
"So your defence is that you did not kill Miss Morentez because you preferred live victims to stalk?" Joan watched him for a moment, and realised that he would reveal little else at the present moment. But perhaps he had given them enough. "With your history, your attitude and your association with the victims and their places of work, it is clear that you are standing on very weak ground. If you harmed those women, in any way, we will find it out, and you will pay for what you have done" she stated with conviction, before rising from her chair and gathering her files, crossing the room and making her way to the door. She could hear Captain Gregson follow her example, but as she placed her hand on the handle, Jake called to her from the back of the room.
"I liked you, Joan" he stated, in the same arrogant and sinister tone that he had adopted in the last few minutes of the interview. "Really, I did. In fact, after our evening together, I found you to be even more exhilarating than Miss Morentez."
Joan froze for a moment, and found herself temporarily at a loss of how to respond. Although she realised the necessity of fast action; if she did not leave soon, she was concerned about what state Sherlock would work himself up into. She breathed in deeply, before turning on the spot to face Jake, who was being glared at by the now standing Captain Gregson.
"See how much prison exhilarates you" she returned, before swinging open the door and stepping through it. She took a few steps to the right of the room and leaned against the wall, closing her head as she exhaled deeply, closing her eyes for just a moment.
"Watson?" came a familiar voice, causing her eyes to snap open. Sherlock was looking at her with an expression of the utmost concern. "Are you quite alright?"
"Yes" she stated simply, offering him a warm yet tired smile. "Unlike Mr Thompson, of course. With the details he just gave us, we have several more possible leads to follow."
"I didn't just mean professionally, Watson." He stated, his voice compassionate and warm.
"I know" she breathed, in a friendly and amiable manner. "Thanks."
Within moments, Gregson and Bell were standing with Sherlock and Joan, and were eagerly awaiting a discussion on the recent events.
"So...?" Gregson began.
"Not sure" Sherlock stated simply, turning to face the room for a moment, before allowing his gaze to fall upon Captain Gregson. "He certainly is a strong contender for the crimes. He has the history, the opportunity, the attitude of a stalker-slash-killer, as well as a deep and almost completely baseless perception of his 'relationship' with Miss Morentez who, I am quite certain, was not the philandering kind." He continued, before turning to Joan. "Watson?" he asked, inviting her opinion on the matter.
"While I agree, I... I do have some doubts" she stated hesitantly. "The way he volunteered the information, I... if he were the killer I don't see why he would be so forthcoming."
"He copped to the lesser charges in the hopes that they would lead us to believe that he did not commit the greater ones. Criminal aversion 101." Gregson stated simply, placing his hands in his pockets.
"Possibly, yeah, I guess" Joan replied. "There's also the victim profile."
"What about it?" Sherlock asked curiously, in a pleasant and encouraging tone.
"The two women Thompson was convicted of stalking and assaulting were petite blondes, whereas our victims are all tall brunettes. Also, he attacked his two victims in their homes, hence the burglary charges. These women were attacked in their places of work." Joan paused for a moment, surveying the expressions on the men around her. "I know it's not what you want to hear, but, it's not something that we can ignore. There are dissimilarities in the Mos of these offences which need to be acknowledged."
"I agree" Sherlock stated, looking from Joan to Gregson and Bell. Before he could continue to speak, Captain Gregson's phone began to ring, and he extracted it from his pocket and held it to his ear, before excusing himself, and walking a few meters away. "These points do require further investigation. I believe that our next move should be to completely analyse the previous crimes which Mr Thompson was convicted of, as well as any that he was suspected of having-"
"Hold that thought" Gregson commanded, as he walked briskly back towards his colleagues. "I just got a call from one of my detectives. About twenty minutes ago, a woman was found by her husband in her home, she had been beaten and stabbed in the same manner as the other victims. Her name is Greta Masters, she is 37 years old, tall, brunette. She is a senior accountant at a local private firm" Gregson continued, gauging the attention of the other three individuals. "And she is alive."