OK, I had to do some thinking about this next chapter, as it was always going to be a bit tricky and for once I had to formulate a plan! This part is really the build up to the next chapter, which when you've read it, you'll understand! And there is a clue in a name, see if you can spot it! ;)

Thanks as always to my lovely reviewers and their continued support! Hugs and kisses to you!

xxx

After what Sherlock had started to refer to as 'The Event' (but only to himself of course – he could never tell anyone) he began to indulge his 'friend' on a regular basis, usually in the mornings when he woke up, or rather his 'friend' woke him up. He needed something to take his mind off his increasing physical needs, so he took a case…

A man by the name of Peter Hampson had visited 221B to consult Sherlock on the matter of his neighbour. Initially Sherlock was impassive; it appeared to be the usual neighbourly domestic dispute, noise disruption and visitors calling at unreasonable hours. He was going to tell Peter to make a diary of incidents, get audio evidence and take them to the police. His noisy neighbour obviously needed an ASBO. But then Peter had said something that stimulated Sherlock's interest.

"I went to the police, but they didn't believe me… Even after they had questioned my neighbour and looked around the house," were the words that grabbed Sherlock's attention.

"Didn't believe what?" Sherlock said, as he leaned forward in his chair with a flicker of intrigue in his eyes.

"That I heard somebody being murdered Mr Holmes!"

"Murdered?"

"Yes! There were screams in the middle of the night, horrible cries of pain! A man begging for his life, but no matter how much he pleaded, his torturer didn't relent. I could hear him constantly thrashing the poor man, until all was silent."

"You believe that those sounds were that of a man being beaten to death?"

"Yes Mr Holmes, I do."

"So… You went to the police with your story, although you had no proof, you felt morally obligated to report the incident. They went to your neighbour, asked questions, got nowhere. Your neighbour obviously had an airtight alibi on the night in question and no knowledge of the supposed incident that you had reported. The police looked around the house and found no evidence of a murder or anything related to signs of a struggle."

"You're absolutely right."

"But just because they didn't find anything, it doesn't mean that there wasn't anything there. The police aren't always thorough in their investigations and I doubt that they made a full exploration of the house, especially as it's a house with four floors. And they probably couldn't be bothered as your neighbour had convinced them that nothing had happened…"

"They didn't seem concerned at all Mr Holmes. Told me that it was probably the television I heard, a violent film or something. But it was no movie, it was real, you have to believe me!"

"Oh I do. Doesn't take a genius to be able to tell the difference between recorded sounds and the real life sounds of a brutal beating. The differences in sound wave resonance are quite distinct if you pay attention and listen."

"Will you take the case?"

"I believe I will Mr Hampson."

xxx

And with that Sherlock found himself inspecting the four storey townhouse in an affluent area of London. He had acquired access to a flat opposite so he could watch the movements of the occupant. Peter had been vague in the description of his neighbour, probably as they had never actually met. Sherlock's investigation discovered that that he was a short, slight man in his late early 30's. Shaggy dark hair, a thick moustache, always smartly dressed in a suit, hat and large overcoat (that was too big for him) and according to the postman, his name was Lee Derrian

After a few days and no notable events other than Mr Derrian leaving and entering via the front door, Sherlock moved his surveillance to the back of the property. Clearly if visitors were no longer entering from the street, then the back door was the only other alternative. He found a good position in the branches of a large oak tree in Peter's garden where he could clearly observe the rear entrance and that is where he struck gold.

Many visitors came and went each staying for approximately 30 minutes to an hour. All faces were concealed with scarves and hats which aroused Sherlock's interest immediately. These callers did not want anyone to know their identity, their behaviour was cautious as they kept to the shadows to reach the house. Three knocks and the door opened and they slipped inside. There was no sight of who opened the door as the inner entrance was unlit. Sherlock was most certainly intrigued at this point. He had to find out more. Who were these visitors and more importantly what were they doing there?

Sherlock had continued the surveillance for a few days more, just to check that Derrian did not deviate from his routine. He didn't, so Sherlock decided the time was right for a little breaking and entering. He waited for Derrian to leave the house as usual and stealthily approached the back door. The lock was easy to manipulate with his lock picking equipment and he cautiously gained entrance into the building.

He switched on his torch and found himself in a small hallway with only one internal door. There was no wallpaper, decoration or carpet to the small passage, indicating that it was merely a thoroughfare to another part of the building and not important.

Sherlock closed the door behind him and moved towards the plain wooden internal door. Whatever was behind it held all the answers to this case and there was nothing that would stop him from discovering the secrets it concealed. His hand hovered over the handle, fingers flexing in his leather gloves before grasping and pushing it down. It opened without resistance which surprised him, he had expected another locked door.

"Not exactly Fort Knox…" he whispered to himself as he opened the door fully. It revealed a staircase leading down to the basement. He paused for a moment as he smiled to himself. Obviously the police had not discovered this as there appeared to be no obvious connection to the main part of the house. Maybe there was one, but it was not from the main hallway. Sherlock dismissed those thoughts and returned to the matter at hand. He slowly descended the stairs towards another door at the bottom.

On the other side of that door Sherlock was met with a sight that actually managed to shock him. It wasn't a basement at all… it was a dungeon! A very well-decorated and furnished dungeon! There were instruments of torture hanging from the walls and ceiling, chairs with restraints, shelves housing an assortment of whips and flogging devices. Sherlock stood in the centre of the room, wide-eyed as his brain took in the visual information. That is what was happening here, the cries and the screams. They were clients of Mr Derrian. There was no murder, but the sounds that Peter had heard were real, at least he could tell him he was right.

Whilst Sherlock was processing all the data from his surroundings, he was unaware of someone entering the back door and quietly descending the stairs. He did not see a dark clothed figure enter behind him. Not until the stranger spoke did he spin around to face them.

"Well Sherlock Holmes. I didn't expect to see you here!" the person spoke in the voice of… THE WOMAN!

xxx

DUM DUM DUUUUM! LOL. Did you see that coming? And did you get the clue? Let me know!

The next chapter should follow quite soon as I'm going to keep writing today as I can't leave it like this! That should keep you all happy! LOL