I am so sorry for not updating the way I have been (which I think was about every other day). Last week when I posted ch. 4, I was at the library. I haven't been there in a while and thought while there, I would check out a book. I absolutely loved the Mortal Instruments series and thought I would start reading the prequel: The Infernal Devices (Clockwork Angel). Forgot how the MI was hard to put down. Yeah, so was this one. Already on Clockwork Prince. Good books are great to read, but when they are really great - they make you forget your family, friends and stories that you are writing.
I'll do my best not to let Clockwork Prince be too distracting where it's another week before I post chapter 6. This chapter is super creepy and it goes back to the first killing. So remember, chapter 5 here is a pre-chapter 1. Maybe don't read with your lights off...:o)
Disclaimer: I do not own BBC's Sherlock.
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"What do you want me to do?" Derick argued with his girlfriend. Christina wanted to pull her hair out. This was the third argument they had on the subject.
"I want you to fix the problem!" Christina yelled back. The problem was over a friend of Derick's who was constantly meddling with their lives and borrowing money. It was enough that Christina wanted Derick to kick the friend out of their lives. But Derick's silence was everything to Christina. He would not stand up to Patrick Lane and tell him no.
"Whatever. I'm going for my run." Christina opened the door and watched as the rain poured down.
"But it's raining" Derick said. Christina didn't say a word, only slamming the door in frustration.
Rain or shine, Christina Curry took her run. There had been so much frustration in her life that this was the only way she felt she could cool some of it down. She was gone for about ten minutes when she passed by another runner. The man was resting against a pole, panting.
"You all right?" Christina asked. She was afraid the man was having a heart attack.
The man waved his arm up signaling he was fine as she came closer. When she came too close the man grabbed her and threw a white cloth over her face. Christina struggled as he dragged her to a hidden area where his car was parked. By the time she was put in the trunk she was unconscious.
When Christina woke next she didn't know where she was. There was no light and as she quickly realized, no air. "Hel..." she found her voice to be dry. "Help!" She hit her hand off to the side of where she was. There was a limited space as she moved her legs. "Where am I? Someone please! Help me!" Christina called out but there was no one to hear.
When Christina never returned after three hours, Derick was not worried. He knew she would want to let off some steam. When he woke the next morning, Derick dialed her cell phone but there was no answer. By lunch he was calling her friends and family. No one had heard from Christina.
After missing posters and pleas through the media for Christina to return home, authorities came across Christina's body in a search in the woods. Derick Matthews found himself in custody, accused of murdering his girlfriend.
"I'm telling you, I did not kill Christina! Why the bloody hell would I kill her and then report her missing?" Derick asked.
"I don't know, you tell me." District Inspector Nathan Hughes said. There was no evidence to convict the boyfriend of Christina's murder. Which is why Hughes needed an confession. A knock on the interrogation door interrupted Hughes' questioning.
"Sir, there's been another."
Fifty-six miles away in Leeds another body had been found. Sure, the police could have said that Derick Matthews was a suspect of this murder too but there were no connections. On top of being in custody for questioning, when Matthews wasn't in custody, he was always being tailed.
A second murder, all the same details as the first, screamed the making of a new serial killer.
"What if there has been more?" Sergent Walker asked his superior, District Inspector Chris Bowmen.
"No. No way do we call this a serial killer. So far there has only been two. Let's hope there's no more." DI Bowmen said.
A week later came Amy Duncan.
"Gentlemen." Anthea graced the small office of District Inspector Bowmen. Walker and Hughes were also there. "I trust you know my boss, Mycroft Holmes. He has requested all files on Christina Curry, Celeste Waters and Amy Duncan and that you repectfully remove yourselves from this case at once."
"Excuse me?" Bowmen said. "Young miss, with all due respect, I don't have to give you anything."
"Excuse me." Anthea stepped out of the office and sent a text to Mycroft.
Mycroft smiled. He then picked up the phone and dialed the Leeds phone number for DI Bowmen's office. "Mr. Bowmen, I am removing you and your colleagues off of this case due to your incompetence. Please do not make me take more matters into my hands."
Thirty minutes later Anthea was walking out with all of the evidence.
Sherlock looked around the wooded area where Amy Duncan was found. He scraped particles off the ground where he suspected the killer's footsteps to be.
"Idiots" Sherlock said as he pictured footprint after footprint of policemen walking around the crime scene, mucking up the evidence. Good thing that most policemen wear the same uniform type of shoe. Pin pointing the killers size 9 Danco shoe prints.
Behind Sherlock, John Watson was taking pictures of the grave sight. He walked a little further into the woods and discovered a small cabin in the distance.
John turned to Sherlock but he could tell by the consulting detective's intense thought that he would never notice the doctor to be gone.
The door squeaked as John walked inside. Cob webs hanged and even a beam from the ceiling had caved in.
"Not safe." John said to himself as he quickly decided not to walk any further. Stepping out of the cabin, John jumped when Sherlock appeared behind him.
"Do you remember the case about the Hounds of Bakersville?" Sherlock asked.
"How can I not? You drugged me into believing I was being chased by a monster." John said. He still occasionally had nightmares of that maddening experience.
"It's interesting on how one can easily be fooled by someone they think they can trust." Sherlock said. Some how, John did not like his friend's tone.
"You're not...you are not going to drug me again, are you?" John asked.
"Sorry John. It's really needed." Sherlock said. Before John knew it, Sherlock threw a cloth over John's face. It happened so quickly that John didn't even know when the cloth had appeared in his hands.
Four hours later John awoke inside the cabin. He was laying on the floor and his head felt wet. Opening his eyes, John could see a liquid dripping from the ceiling.
"Ah good, you are awake. I was a bit worried as some cases of chloroform use can kill a man" Sherlock said.
"Yeah I know." said John as he sat up. He felt a slight dizziness. "It's why they no longer use it as an anesthetic. I cannot believe you drugged me again Sherlock Holmes!"
"While we know he has been using chloroform to render his victims unconscious, I needed to see the effects. How long would one "sleep" and other inquires." Sherlock said.
Still sitting on the floor, John looked around the cabin. Now that he was inside further, he could see more of the natural damage that had come along without a normal up keep. "Why are we inside? I'm afraid this is all going to cave in on us."
"I dragged you in as it was beginning to rain. I see your snoring has not ceased. I discussed it over with Mary and we both agree that you should check into that." Sherlock said.
"Oh thanks, it is nice to know that you care enough for me to bring me out of the rain so that I don't catch a cold - after you have drugged me - and that while I was unconscious my best friend and nurse wife think they know better than the actual person that is the doctor. I do not snore! And please don't tell Mary that I was rude about her." John said.
"I promise." Sherlock smiled as he helped John off the floor.
The flowers bloomed red and yellow in the back of his yard. When Norman had first woken up next to his dead wife, he buried her in the back yard. He would keep her close; she would keep haunting him.