Thea sat between John and Sherlock, sending a quick text to Lestrade that she was on her way with Sherlock and John. The cab ride to Lauriston Garden was too quiet for Thea's liking. Sherlock was too fixated on his cellphone; John kept glancing over to him, as if he wanted to ask some questioned but couldn't think of the words to do so.
"Okay, you've got questions."
"Yeah, where are we going?"
"Crime scene. Next."
"Who are you? What do you do?" John asked.
"What do you think?"
"I'd say private detective…" John stopped, leaving his answer hanging. Thea looked up from her phone, raising an eyebrow to John Watson.
"But?"
"…but the police don't go to private detectives." John stated. "I'm a consulting detective. Only one in the world – I invented the job." Sherlock explained.
"What does that mean?"
"It means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me." Sherlock explained.
"The police don't consult amateurs." John said.
Sherlock gave John a look. "When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said, 'Afghanistan or Iraq?' You looked surprised." Sherlock stated.
"Yes, how did you know?"
"I didn't know, I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself, says military. But your conversation as you entered the room said trained at Bart's, 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, suntan – Afghanistan or Iraq." Sherlock explained, clicking the "K" sound in Iraq. Sherlock went back to his phone for a moment.
"You said I had a therapist."
"You've got a psychosomatic limp, of course you've got a therapist. Then there's your brother." Sherlock stated.
"Hmm?"
Sherlock held out his hand to John, speaking as he waited. "Your phone. It's expensive, email enabled, MP3 player, but you're looking for a flatshare – you wouldn't waste money on this. It's a gift then." John reached into his pocket, pulling out his new, yet old, smartphone. "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." Sherlock stated.
"The engraving."
Thea leaned her neck forward, seeing the engraving on the back of the phone. She read aloud, not that the boys needed it, "'Harry Watson, from Clara. Kiss, kiss, kiss.'"
"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? Three kisses say it's a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently – this model's only six months old. Marriage in trouble then – six months on he's just given it way. If she'd left him, he would have kept it. People do, sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it. He left her." Thea looked at the expression on John's face.
Looked like Sherlock was about a hundred percent correct.
"He gave the phone to you, that says he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation, but you're not to your brother for help, that says you've got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife, maybe you don't like his drinking." Sherlock explained.
"How can you possibly know about the drinking?" John asked.
Sherlock gave a smile, "Shot in the dark. Good one though. Power connection; tiny little scuffmarks 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 drunk's without them." Sherlock explained, handing the phone back to John. Thea looked down at the bottom of her phone, seeing barely any scuffmarks on her power connection.
Damn, he was good.
"There you go, you see – you were right."
"I was right? Right about what?"
"The police don't consult amateurs." Sherlock stated, looking out the window. Thea blinked – Sherlock talked so fast, Thea almost lost everything he said but he got it. Sherlock Holmes got every little thing about Dr. John Watson. Thea's breath hitched in her throat, wondering how long it would be before Sherlock knew everything about her.
"That was…amazing." John commented. Thea agreed with the doctor. Sherlock looked at them both, confused.
"Do you think so?"
"Of course it was. It was extraordinary – it was quite extraordinary." John stated.
"That's not what people normally say." Sherlock commented. "What do people normally say?" John asked.
"Piss off."
Thea put a hand over her mouth to keep her from laughing hysterically. She could see why they would tell Sherlock to piss off anything he gave a deduction. It was a hundred percent accurate. No wonder people hated him.
TKM
The cab pulled up to at Lauriston Garden, Thea quickly climbed out. She almost was dashing towards crime scene, already reserving text messages from Lestrade about where she was. Thea ducked under the tape, not listening to the conversation behind her from John and Sherlock but apparently Sherlock didn't like one of the answers that John gave.
That being Harry was actually a Harriet.
"What's he doing here?" Donovan asked, gesturing to Sherlock.
"Lestrade invited him."
"We can do this on our own."
"Don't shoot the messenger, Donovan. I just have orders." Thea stated.
"Ah, yes. Babysitter."
Thea shook her head. "You can say it without so much disgust in your tone." Thea commented with her hands on her hips. Since Thea arrived to England and got a job in New Scotland Yard, Sally was overly bitter that Thea beat her out for Detective Inspector so early on. It wasn't Thea problem that she was good at her job.
"I don't think there is a way."
"Well, try. Here comes Sherlock." Thea smirked in Sally's direction. Donovan glared straight at Thea before glaring at Sherlock.
"Hello freak."
"I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade."
"Why?"
"I was invited."
"Why?"
"I think he wants me to take a look." Sherlock stated, sarcasm dripping from each word. Sally's jaw clenched. "Well, you know what I think, don't you?" Sally asked.
"Enough, Donovan. Come on, you two." Thea waved her hand for Sherlock and John to follow her. Sherlock ducked up the tape, making a comment at Sally who didn't want to answer.
"Who's this?"
"Colleague of mine, Doctor Watson." Sherlock turned to John. "Doctor Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan. Old friend." Sherlock again was using sarcasm at the end.
"A colleague? How do you get a colleague?! It's already bad enough you have a babysitter!" Sally almost shouted that. Thea was at Sherlock's side faster than Donovan expected.
"Sally, John and Sherlock are with me. Let them through, now." Thea smirked. Sally glared at Thea, allowing John to come onto the crime scene. "Tell Lestrade that I'm bringing them up." Sally was fuming as she talked into the radio. Thea walked in front of Sherlock and John, approaching Anderson who was standing outside the house.
"Karr-Michael,"
"Anderson."
"Here we are again." Sherlock said to Anderson.
"It's a crime scene. I don't want it contaminated. Are we clear on that?" Anderson asked. Sherlock took a rather deep breath, looking at Anderson. "Quite clear. And is your wife away for long?" He asked.
"Oh, don't pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you that – probably Karr-Michael." Anderson stated.
Thea thought for a moment. "Considering I didn't know you were married, Anderson, I can't say I told Sherlock anything about you." Thea commented.
"Your deodorant told me that."
"My deodorant?"
"It's for men."
"Well, of course it's for men! I'm wearing it!" Anderson argued. "So it Sergeant Donovan." Sherlock said.
Thea's mouth dropped to the ground then started to grin – Lestrade owed her some money now. Anderson's eyes widened, looking over at Donovan in shock. Sherlock sniffed the air.
"Oh, and I think it just vaporized. May I go in?" Sherlock pointed to the house.
"Now look," Anderson was angry, pointing at Sherlock, "whatever you're trying to imply…"
"I'm not implying anything." Sherlock said. Thea kept her lips pressed together, keeping herself from saying anything out loud. "I'm sure Sally came round for a nice little chat, and just happened to stay over. And I assume she scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees." Sherlock explained.
Anderson looked at Donovan, sharing the same exact shocked expression. Sherlock smiled smugly. Thea smirked in Anderson's direction. "Now, wouldn't you like to be his babysitter now?" Thea asked. Anderson glared as Thea walked into the house. She walked over to the coveralls, slipping them over her body, taking off the jacket she was wearing in the process.
She put on shoe covers as well.
"Sherlock, John, put these on please."
"I'm good."
"Pardon?" Thea took a double take. "Sherlock, you have to wear these." Thea said, helping John a little bit with the coveralls. Sherlock gave her a look. "Are you kidding?"
"Do I look like I'm kidding, Thea?"
"What did Anderson just say about the crime scene, Sherlock?" Thea asked. Sherlock gave her another look. "I don't know your looks, Sherlock!"
"See," Thea and Sherlock turned to Lestrade. "Told you, you two would hit it off." Thea glared at Lestrade. "Who's this?" Lestrade asked.
"He's with me."
"But who is he?"
"I said he's with me."
"Thea,"
"It's pointless. John Watson, Detective Inspector Lestrade. Greg, Dr. John Watson, army doctor." Thea did a quick introduction.
"So where are we?"
"Upstairs."
Thea nodded her head, taking a pair of latex gloves from the box. Lestrade led the three of them upstairs.
"I can give you two minutes."
"May need longer."
"Her name's Jennifer Wilson, according to her credit cards. We're running them now for contact details. Haven't been here long – some kids found her." Lestrade explained as he led them to a door. The room is completely empty of furniture – minus a child's toy in the corner. Jennifer Wilson was face down on the floor, wearing bright pink.
Sherlock moved towards the body as John kept himself off to the side. Thea was looking over the body from the other side of the room where she could see pretty much the whole room.
"Shut up." Sherlock told Lestrade. Thea looked up, not understanding what was going on.
"I-I didn't say anything."
"You were thinking – it's annoying." Lestrade, John, and Thea exchanged looks. Thea took a deep breath, kneeling down to the body, looking at the etched in message on the floor – rache. Sherlock was looking down at the body, using his deduction skills to his advantage. "Move." That startled Thea.
She got to her feet, moving towards Lestrade. She crossed her arms, knowing Sherlock could hear what she was thinking right now. Sherlock went back to his deduction, picking up on the little details. No one else in the room understood Sherlock's knowledge and how he picked up on the details but wanted complete silence. Thea watched Sherlock carefully, seeing how his eyebrows raised when he got something right and how his eyes narrowed when something didn't make sense to him.
After a few minutes of silence, Sherlock stood up from the above the body, smiling to himself.
"Got anything?"
"Not much."
Sherlock began to search something up on his phone as Anderson leaned in the doorway. "She's German. 'Rache,' it's German for revenge. She could be trying to tell us something…" Anderson began but Sherlock didn't like what he was saying. "Yes, thank you for your input." Sherlock stated, closing the door in Anderson's face.
"So she's German?"
"Of course she's not. She's from out of town though. Intended to say in London for one night before returning home to Cardiff." Sherlock said, smiling smugly at his phone screen. He pocketed the phone. "So far, so obvious."
"Sorry – obvious?"
"I'm with John."
"What about the message though?" Lestrade asked.
Sherlock ignored Lestrade, looking towards John. "Doctor Watson, what do you think?" Sherlock asked.
"Of the message?"
"Of the body. You're a medical man." Sherlock said.
"Wait, no, we have a whole team right outside." Lestrade said.
"They won't work with me." Sherlock stated. "I'm breaking every rule letting you in here." Lestrade stated.
"Yes…because you need me."
Lestrade stared at him for a moment, glancing to Thea. She nodded her head at him. "Yes, I do. God help me."
"Doctor Watson,"
"Hm?" John wasn't exactly listening; he was looking at the body. He glanced to Sherlock then looked over at Lestrade, silently asking permission.
"Oh, do as he says. Help yourself." Lestrade walked out of the room for a moment, informing Anderson to keep people away for a few minutes. Thea walked over to Sherlock and John.
"Keep me in the loop, okay?"
"Well?" Sherlock ignored her.
"What am I doing here?" John asked softly.
"Helping me make a point." Sherlock said. "And what am I, a decoration in the corner?" Thea asked.
"Of course not."
"Thank God."
"You are blunt force, if necessary."
Thea turned towards Sherlock, placing her hands on her hips. "Is that a compliant or an insult?" Thea asked. Sherlock chose to ignore her that time.
"I'm supposed to help you pay the rent." John said. "Yeah, well, this is more fun." Sherlock said.
"Fun? There's a woman lying dead."
"Perfectly sound analysis, but I was hoping you'd go deeper." Sherlock said before Lestrade entered the room, standing in the doorway. John leaned forward, trying to support himself as he leaned down, sniffing. He straightened up, looking at her hand.
"Yeah, Asphyxiation, probably. Passed out, chocked on her own vomit. Can't smell any alcohol on her. It could have been a seizure, probably drugs." John said.
"You know what it was. You've read the papers." Sherlock stated.
"What, she's one of the suicides? The fourth…?" John questioned.
"Sherlock – two minutes, I said. I need anything you've got." Lestrade said as Sherlock stood quickly. John struggled, Thea went to help but he held up his hand to stop her. She took a step back from the doctor allowing him to get himself onto his feet by himself.
"Victim is in her late thirties. Professional person, going by her clothes, I'm guessing something in the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Traveled from Cardiff today, intending to stay in London for one night. It's obvious from the size of her suitcase." Sherlock stated.
"Suitcase?" Lestrade and Thea echoed. John looked around the place, not seeing a suitcase anywhere in sight.
"Suitcase, yes. She's been married at least ten years, but not happily. She's had a string of lovers but none of them knew she was married." Sherlock explained.
"Oh, for God's sake, if you're just making this up-"
Sherlock picked up her left hand, "Her wedding ring. Ten years old, at least. The rest of her jewelry has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State of the marriage right there. The inside of the ring 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 for work; look at her nails. She doesn't work with her hands, so what or rather who does she remove her rings for? Clearly not one lover; she's never sustain the fiction of being single over that amount of time, so more likely a string of them. Simple." Sherlock explained.
"That's brilliant." Sherlock shot John a look. "Sorry."
"Cardiff?"
"It's obvious, isn't it?"
"It's not obvious to me."
Sherlock took a pause, looking at the three other people in the door. "Dear God, what is it like in your funny like brains? It must be so boring." Thea rolled her eyes. "Her coat, it's slightly damp. She's been in heavy rain in the last few hours. No rain anywhere in London at the 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 its 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 much have come a decent distance but she can't have traveled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried. So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time?" Sherlock asked, taking out his phone from his pocket, displaying the weather. "Cardiff."
"That's fantastic!"
Sherlock turned to John, "D'you know you do hat out loud?" Sherlock asked.
"Sorry, I'll shut up."
"No, it's…fine."
"Why d'you keep saying suitcase?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock turned in a circle, looking around the room. "Yes, where is it? She must have had a phone or an organizer. Find out who Rachel is." Sherlock said.
"She was writing 'Rachel'?" Lestrade asked. "No, she was leaving an angry not in German." Sherlock said sarcastically.
"Sherlock, get on with it."
"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?" Sherlock asked.
"Maybe-" Thea was interrupted by Lestrade. "How d'you know she had a suitcase?" Lestrade asked.
Sherlock pointed to the back of Jennifer's legs. "Back of the right leg, tiny splash marks on the hell 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 that clothes-conscious, could only be an overnight bag, so we know she was staying one night." Sherlock explained, kneeling down by the body. "Now, where is it? What have you done with it?" He asked.
"There wasn't a case."
Sherlock slowly rose from the ground. "Say that again."
"There wasn't a case. There was never any suitcase." Lestrade stated. Sherlock looked at Lestrade before bolting from the room, he was yelling to the other officers, asking about a suitcase. "Sherlock, there was no case!" Lestrade told him, leaning over the railing of the staircase.
"But they take the poison themselves, they chew, swallow the pills themselves. There are clear signs. Even you lot couldn't miss them." Sherlock explained.
"Right, yeah, thanks. And…?"
"It's murder, all of them. I don't know how, but they're not suicides, they're killings – serial killings." Sherlock explained. Thea could see the delight on his face.
"Maybe show a tiny bit of sympathy for the dead, Sherlock." Thea commented, leaning on the staircase railing.
"We've got ourselves a serial killer. I love those. There's always something to look forward to." Sherlock said.
"Why are you saying that?"
"Her case!" Sherlock shouted at the team above him. "Come on, where is her case? Did she eat it? Someone else was here, and they took her case. So the killer must have driven her here, forgot the case in the car." Sherlock said. Thea could see the gears rolling his head.
"She could have checked into a hotel, left her case there." John suggested. "No, she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair. She color-coordinates her lipstick with her shoes. She'd never have left her hotel with her hair still looking…" Sherlock instantly stopped talking.
"Sherlock?"
"Oh."
"Mind keeping us in the loop, Mr. Science of Deduction?" Thea called out to him.
"Oh!"
"Sherlock?"
"What is it, what?"
"Serial killers are always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake." Sherlock smiled to himself.
"We can't just wait!"
"Oh, we're done waiting!" Sherlock hurried down the stairs. "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.
"Of course, yeah – but what mistake?" Lestrade yelled to Sherlock. Sherlock came back into view at the bottom of the stairs. "Pink!" He yelled before bolting from the crime scene. Thea shook her head.
"I'm not following him."
"Thea,"
"We have a case to solve. If you want, I can go back to the office and find out anything about Wilson." Thea stated. Lestrade sighed heavily. "Look, if I go out there, you already know Sherlock will be gone. Why even try and follow him? Besides you could use all the hands you have for this one." Thea explained.
"You've got a point. Fine."
"John, you are going to have to leave now. Sorry 'bout that." Thea explained.
"No, no, it's-it's fine. Uh, where would I find a taxi?" John asked.
"Try the main road." Thea went to go into the room. "Oh! I totally forgot! I haven't officially introduced myself, silly me! Detective Inspector Thea Karr-Michael." Thea held out her hand for John to shake.
"Well, you already know me."
"Have a good night, John. Hope to see you again." Thea gave a small smile, walking into the room where the body was.
Finally figured out a way to post chapter four! YES! It took a while but finally, it all posted! Thank God! I was legit about to go nuts!