AN: So here is the next chapter. Again I am sorry for taking such a long time updating. But if you keep giving me ideas it might not take so long next time. Thank you for your reviews, and for your ideas. I will take a look at them and see what I can do.
I would like you to take a vote. Should I continue the fic like I have done before with a few months passing in the story between each chapter. Or should we take a leap forward? It would in that case be about two years. Until the time when Sherlock first start doing drugs.
Please tell me what you think.
Hope you like this chapter. Please review!
April 2002
Since the incident in the office, Sherlock was different. He didn't talk as much as he used to, and Lestrade figured that he was embarrassed about what he had said. About letting his secret slip like that.
Lestrade let him be, he couldn't decide what Sherlock would do, he was eighteen now. Grown up. Not the little boy he had met in the subway any more. He was different now, stronger, more... mature, in some ways. But he was still young.
Sherlock had an own flat now. If you could call it a flat, he had refused to use any of Mycroft's money, so he had rented a small flat, with his own money (Lestrade didn't know where he got the money, he hoped he didn't steal it). A really small flat. It wasn't more than a bedroom and a small kitchen, and a very small bathroom. It was more like a room than a flat really. But Sherlock liked it, and that was what counted. But he still came to Lestrade's house a few times a week, when Alice wasn't at home.
The last few weeks though, he hadn't been around much. He had refused to take cases, he said he was busy.
"With what?" Lestrade had asked, but Sherlock had only smirked and left without any word.
A few days ago, he had found a website, Sherlock's website; The science of deduction.
He was asking for cases.
Up until now, he and the other polices on Scotland Yard had coped just fine on their own. But now, on this case, they hit a dead end. Six young women, between the ages of 18 and 26 had been raped and then murdered during the last six months. The cause of dead had always been different. One had been shot in the head, another had been beaten to death with a baseball bat. No DNA on the crime scenes, no fingerprints. Nothing connecting the victims.
The murders where brutal, random. Like the women where killed just for the sake of it. The only thing connecting the crimes where a single white rose that was left on the crime scene. It was always left in the victims right hand. As if she had clenched it in her hand right before she died.
They had no leads, no suspects.
And this morning, another young girl had been found, this time she was only 15 years old. She had been raped and then strangled to death with her own scarf, which was found on the crime scene.
Lestrade had sent Sherlock a text this morning, asking him to come. He had even sent him the address so he could come to the crime scene. But nothing, Sherlock hadn't even bothered answering.
Lestrade was just about to leave the crime scene, and get the poor girl sent to the morgue so her parents could see her, when a young woman came up to her. At first he didn't recognise her, but then he remembered. She was the new intern on his department. Sally Donovan was her name. Clever girl, probably could become an excellent police.
"Detective Inspector Lestrede" she said, "There is a man here to see you. He says he is from FBI..."
Lestrade didn't want to, he was tired. He had been there for hours and it was the end of his shift. But, he knew he had to go and talk to the man, whatever FBI now wanted.
When he first saw him, he thought the man looked strangely familiar. But he couldn't place him. And he didn't know what it was about him that did. Lestrade didn't know any Americans, even less any that worked with the FBI. He had short blonde hair, brown eyes, a short beard and was dressed in a grey suit.
"Hello, I am DI Lestrade" he said "You where looking for me?"
The man turned away from the woman he had been talking to.
"Yes, I did," the man said."I were just finished talking with Mrs Hudson here, and I think I have a lead. I-"
"Wait, stop a second there." Lestrade held up his hands." I don't even know your name, or why you are here. The FBI have nothing to do with this case."
"Yes they do." The stranger said, turning around and starting to walk away." Well, come along! Hurry up!" Lestrade hurried after the man as he climbed into a cab."Thirteen months ago, ten girls where found in alleys in Jacksonville Florida. They had been raped and then killed. In their right hand a white rose. Does that sound familiar too you?"
"Yes, I-"
"Yes it does... and now seven women have been killed here."the stranger continued clearly not caring about what Lestrade was about to say."We almost caught him in Jacksonville, he made a mistake. But then he disappeared. And now, a few months later, he is here."
"So you are here to help us solve the case?"
"No. I am here to solve the case. I doubt I will need your help."
"Hey!" Lestrade said," It is my case, you can't just come here and take over. I don't even know your name."
"The name is Mark Brown. I am an agent on the FBI. And you clearly need a coffee otherwise you will get grumpy. Go home, rest and meet me at Scotland Yard in your office at 7 am tomorrow morning and you can fill me in on what you know" The cab stopped and the man climbed out.
Lestrade followed paying the cabbie. But as he came out on the street Agent Brown was gone. Lestrade had no idea where he had gone.
He was just about to call for an other cab so he could go home, when he turned around. He was at his house already.
That night, Lestrade couldn't fall asleep. He was thinking about the murders. And Agent Brown, he was strange. Rude. But even though Lestrade found himself looking forward to meeting him again the next morning.
During the following week, Lestrade didn't see much of Agent Brown. He dropped by the office every morning. Asked of there was anything new. Then he was of again.
It was late in the afternoon, almost precisely a week after meeting Brown when said man ran into the office.
"Come Lestrade!" he said before running out again.
When they came out from the Yard Agent Brown climbed into a black car that was parked in front of the house. Lestrade followed, and he had barely closed the door before the driver pulled out on the road and drove of. Far too fast to be following the traffic rules.
They weren't alone in the car. A woman where there too, but she didn't pay attention to them. She was doing something on her phone.
"Okay you have questions."Brown said, looking out the window.
"Yes, where are we going?"
"221B Baker Street."the agent replied"and before you ask... because I know who it is. And where he is. And that place is 221B Baker Street. And why are we going there alone? Because he is watching the station, and he would find it suspicious if several police cars came running towards him. And finally, why the rush?" he turned towards Lestrade and smiled. "he has a hostage."
The car stopped and Agent Brown ran out of the car and into one of the houses before Lestrade could even get out of the car.
Lestrade pulled out his gun and followed Brown into the house. He was just in time to see him run out the back door.
"Don't follow me Lestrade, take care of Mrs Hudson!"
He found Mrs Hudson in the kitchen, bound and gagged to a chair. He carefully removed the gag and undid the bindings.
"Th-thank you..." she whispered and took Lestrade's hand in hers.
By the time Lestrade got outside, Brown had already caught the suspect.
"Oh there you are!"He said, while cuffing the suspects hands behind his back."I am taking Mr Hudson back to Florida with me at once. He is an American citizens, and Mrs Hudson asked me personally to get him convicted in U.S court."
Then he just left. Before Lestrade even had a chance to progress what he had just said.
Two days later Lestrade called FBI's office in Jacksonville and asked for Agent Mark Brown. There were no such person working there.
So he went to Mrs Hudson and asked her if she knew who the man was.
"Yes"she said"he is such a nice young man. I found his website. I asked for his help. He had such an unusual name... Holmes... Sherlock Holmes..."