Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade was sitting in his office when the he received the notice. A girl. Found dead. In the middle of a bath. He immediately rose from his chair collected his coat and followed Sergeant Sally Donnovan down to the police car waiting for them on the street. Before he knew what he was doing and much before Donnovan could protest the idea of "Freak" coming down to take a quick look he had entered a number into his phone and typed out a message.
"Dead body. Halsmere Road. You've got 5 minutes. GL"
His finger lingered over the send button for a second. He glanced over at Donnovan sitting across from him in the car furiously texting someone. Her dark skin illuminated by the glow of her mobile, her curly hair dropping over her face in perfect ringlets. He thought about why on earth she despised "Freak" so much. Jealousy was the first thing that came to mind, she usually can't make the simplest deductions from the scene of a crime; whereas he could determine a killer's identity and location with a glance at a body. Lestrade thought of it as fascinating, not infuriating like everyone else in the force. They needed a mind like his. WIthout him only God knows how many people would walk away from a crime scotch-free. And with that, he pressed send. He put his phone down and looked back at Donnovan, she'd be pissed at him again for inviting "Freak". Lestrade was honestly alarmed at how little this phased him. He used to apologize continuously when she'd raise her voice at him, but it was worse when she lowered her voice to a near-whisper. But he was younger then. He doesn't need to be afraid of her or what she thinks of him. That's why when his phone sang out his message alert noise and he looked down at the text message the faintest ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.
"Be there right away. SH"
"Come on John, duty calls."
"Ah come on, I've only just sat down. Don't you ever take a break?"
"My mind doesn't take breaks."
"Well mine needs one."
But Sherlock Holmes paid no attention to John's remark. He was already tying his blue scarf around his neck and putting on his signature woollen coat, popping up the collar. He begun to walk to the door but stopped abruptly and looked back at John expectantly. Watson sighed, there would be no getting out of this. Even if his head ached and his body needed - begged - for sleep. He had to accompany the great Holmes, he stood up, grabbed his own coat and walked swiftly out into the streets trailing just behind Sherlock as he hailed the cab.
"What exactly is the duty that calls, Sherlock?"
"They've discovered a body in one of the flats on Halsmere Road. Lestrade called me in either because him or his squad full of idiots can't observe what has happened there or because he wants a second opinion. History dictates that the first is generally the right answer."
"The body? What about the body."
"I have absolutely no idea."
Yet.
The flat is remarkably clean. Immaculately clean in fact, to the point of being unnaturally so. It's small, the kitchen lays to his right, the door to the bathroom at the far end and the bedroom's adjacent to that. All the windows are shut and bolted. The artwork that hung on the walls were modern and matched the colour palette of the room absolutely perfectly. He continued to the bedroom, she was reading a Harlequin romance and had the book placed face up and open to the page. Either she put it down in a rush, not enough time to find a bookmark or had been intending on returning to it in the extremely near future. The bed was made obviously, judging by the state of the rest of the apartment. A drawer. Half open. Sherlock opened it and peered inside. The contents jumbled around in complete disarray. Peculiar. He joined his friend at the side of the tub where the woman's body was sitting with a radio bobbing in the water far beyond repair.
"Well Watson, what do you think?"
"Electrocution."
"But?" Watson looked at him, then at the room.
"Lestrade wouldn't have called you in if it was accidental cause of death."
"Very good John. Also, if the radio had in fact fallen into the water she would have been held in the tub until the bathwater became the conductor. There would be evidence on this body that she tried to breathe while under the water. Capillaries would have ruptured, look at her eyes John what do you see?"
"Nothing, they're perfectly clear."
"Precisely, that is the first clue she did not die in this tub. Also, there would be large blisters on her skin as the exposure to the electricity would have been prolonged and they are not present. The most pronounced lividity occurs, not on her back, buttocks and thighs; but her face, her chest, her arms. Now tell me John, how did this woman die?" Watson peered back into the tub at the woman and poked and prodded for a minute before replying.
"Asphyxiation."
"From?"
"Well electrocution, the greyish discolouration on her wrist indicates where the electricity entered her body, and the one on her feet indicates where the current exited. Which means, she was standing when she died. And then slumped over dead on her face until someone moved her into this tub and made it look like an accident."
"Very good, your deduction skills are becoming much better John."
"Well? What do you think Sherlock?" Lestrade asked re-entering the room.
"This isn't an accident. This is murder. Someone out there put an electrical current through this woman until she died, came here, put her in the tub with the radio, and looked for something in the top left drawer of her dresser. Cleaning the apartment from fingerprints before fleeing the scene. Since she already kept her flat so tidy some extra scrubbing wouldn't have seemed suspicious to the police."
"You said he, and what here makes you think the killer is a man?"
"Well statistically speaking, I assume it's a man."
"So who are we looking for Sherlock?"
"I haven't the faintest. He's done a remarkable job of covering his tracks."