"Nothing absolutely nothing," Sherlock shouted, storming into the Parlor. He began to pace fiercely and spat, "All he did was sing a silly little children's Rhyme over and over again." "If you're happy and you know you it, clap your hands," Sherlock sang mockingly. He scoffed, still pacing. "I could find no connection from the song to the murders, none what so ever." He collapsed in one of the chairs and hissed, "He was mocking me." Suddenly he turned and stared at the figure on the couch and realized it was not John but Susan. "Where is John?" he demanded. Susan, who had been silently watching Sherlock responded quietly, "Hopefully still asleep, I made him some soup about a half an hour ago" Sherlock narrowed his eyes. Susan stood up and said, "I apologize Mr. Holmes, I know you need your space to think. I'll leave." "That would be appreciated, yes," Sherlock hissed. Susan headed towards the door, Sherlock followed her with his gaze. Susan didn't turn around, she walked directly to the front door and headed outside.
Susan shifted through the change in her pocket. She counted it out, slowly and deliberately. "Damn," He muttered, stuffing the change back into her pocket. She took a messily folded map of London out of her other pocket and opened it up. She found her current location and then the address of Scotland yard. "Oh good, only about two and half miles. I should be able to make it in less than an hour." She folded back up the map, stuffed it into her pocket. She took a deep breath and starting walking down Baker Street.
"I have no idea who you are and yet my secretary buzzed you in because you claimed to be a colleague of Sherlock Holmes," Lestrade said, leaning forward in his desk chair looking skeptically at the young girl that sat across the desk from him. Susan swallowed and said quietly, "I am staying with him and John Watson for the time being. Mr. Watson is feeling under the weather and Mr. Holmes is preoccupied. I have come to speak further with the suspect Harry Peterson. We have a new theory and approach we would like to attempt." Lestrade exhaled loudly, and said, "Let me call them and see if they agree." Susan nodded and said, "Would you be willing to call John, though? Sherlock doesn't seem to be in the best mood today and I'd hate to bother him." Lestrade nodded, understandingly, he'd seen that for himself. He dialed John's number and held the phone to his ear, "Hello John? I apologize if I woke you. There is a girl here, she says her name is Susan Aryd, she claims to live and work with you and Sherlock, is this the truth? …. Alright thank you John." He hung up the phone and turned back to Susan, "Alright, first you're right John did not sound well at all," he stood up and came to the side of his desk, "also, your story appears to check out." Susan stood up as well, smiling slightly. "I'll bring you to the interrogation room now," Lestrade said as he opened his office door. "Thank you," Susan said politely, walking through the open door.
The heavy metal door of the interrogation room shut behind Susan with a loud thud. Susan sat in the small metal chair on one side of the table. She was smiling pleasantly and looking at the man who sat across the metal table from her. The man stared at her, clearly confused by what appeared to be genuine cheerfulness. "Hello Harry, my name is Susan. It's a pleasure to meet you." Suddenly Harry smiled and said, "The pleasure is all mine." "I'm sorry we couldn't meet under better circumstances," Susan's expression became slightly apologetic. Harry shook his head and said, "Oh it's fine." Susan's expression seemed to change again, becoming one of concern, "Harry, do you know why you are here?" Harry's face suddenly grew stormy, he nodded and said quietly, "because they don't understand." Susan leaned forward slightly, "What don't they understand Harry?" "They don't understand why those people had to go." "I know how hard it can be when people don't understand. I think they're afraid Harry, because they don't understand." "If they'd just try to understand, if they listened, they wouldn't have to be afraid, I could explain it to them," Harry mumbled, now not looking into Susan's eyes. Susan reached out and gently touched the edge of Harry's fingers. "I want to know Harry, please, explain it to me." Harry looked up, he stared into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity. She stared back, her eyes brimming with compassion. A tear escaped from Harry's eye, he wiped it away and said, "Because they laugh at me Susan. Just like they do here. They mock me. I don't want to be mocked." "Shhhhh," Susan said gently, squeezing his hand, "I promise things are going to be alright now." Harry looked into her eyes again and said earnestly, "I'm afraid." "I know you are Harry, but I promise I will do everything in my power to make sure they understand." Harry smiled again, "Thank you Susan." She smiled back, "It's my pleasure, I promise." She turned to leave and Harry murmured, "Will I see you again?" Susan nodded and said, "Of course, but I need to know that you'll stay here. Otherwise I don't know if I'll find you again." "Ok," Harry said, "for you Susan. Do you promise you'll speak to them?" "Of course Harry."
Susan ran up the stairs to the parlor. "Sherlock!" she called, out of breath. Sherlock was sitting on of the chairs, he look up at her with contempt. "What?" He asked coldly. Susan seemed undisturbed by Sherlock's reaction, she ran up to him and panted, "Laughter." "What?" Sherlock said again, some of the ice in his voice was replaced by genuinely wanting to hear what she was implying. "I talked to Mr. Peterson. He said they needed to go because they were laughing at him, he said they mocked him at the station. That's why he kills, that's why he escapes." Sherlock stood up and began to pace, "Yes, yes! That makes sense." "There was one victim that was talking on the phone when she was killed right? Find out what the person on the other end of the line heard last." Sherlock searched through his papers to find the witness's information.
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"Laughter? What do you mean?" Lestrade asked, glanced from Susan to Sherlock, not understanding. "Sir, laughter was a trigger for him. When he heard it, he felt he was being mocked, he was afraid. He was defending himself sir." Lestrade raised an eyebrow and turned to Sherlock. "One of the victims was talking on the telephone when she was killed. The last thing the person on the other end of the line heard was laughter. The other victims were reported being in a particularly upbeat mood at the time of their death," Sherlock said in his matter-of-fact voice. Lestrade laughed incredulously, "That just… that doesn't seem like enough evidence to draw a conclusion on Sherlock." "Please sir, if you talk to him, if you treat him with compassion and you show you truly want to understand, he'll confirm it. I promised I would explain it for him," Susan insisted, leaning forward as she spoke. Quietly she added, "Also sir, I promised him that things would be alright. I intend to keep that promise. Please sir, he needs help, he is not a criminal." Lestrade sighed and sat back in his chair, placing his fingers on his temples.