1989

Carl Powers.

There was something curious about the whole death that made Sherlock suspicious. Apparently the boy had had a seizure whilst swimming in the pool during his championship qualifier. They tried pulling him out but by time they did, he had drowned.

Now, it would appear to be an open and shut case. Why would it be anything else?

Sherlock peered over the policeman's shoulder, cursing his height. As they set up the perimeters to launch an enquiry, Sherlock slipped behind the tape.

It was quick, no more than a few seconds. Sherlock opened Powers locker and peered inside.

Jacket.

Jeans.

Towel.

Shirt.

There was something missing though.

"Oi!" A policeman bellowed.

"Shit," Sherlock muttered. He looked up drearily at the officer. "Yes?"

"What you doing in here? Eh? This is for police work only!" The Policeman glared at Sherlock. "Now, go find your mother. I suspect you ran off from her."

Sherlock cleared his voice and straightened up. "Sir," He said very clearly. "I do find that your mannerisms are quite distracting. As you can see, I'm busy,"

The Policeman was taken aback by this.

"Alright, what's you're game?"

"Sir I have no game." Sherlock replied. "Might I ask, where have you taken Mr Powers shoes?"

"We ain't touched none of Mr Powers stuff." He said. "Now, go!"

"But his shoes are missing! Don't you think that's a bit odd?"

"That's not your job."

"Would you look at his locker? Shirt, socks, towel, jeans, jacket – but his shoes are missing!"

"How old are you?"

Sherlock blinked. "13," He said.

"Right…" The officer said slowly.

"It doesn't matter!" Sherlock snapped. "His shoes are missing!"

"Let's get you home-"

"Listen to me!" Sherlock said brutally, fighting off the officer's hand as he tried to grab his elbow to lead him away. "Just look at him, really look! It's blatantly obvious!"

"Hold on," The Officer replied.

"Thank you," Sherlock said.

The Officer stood for a minute, and then pressed the little button on his radio. "Burton?"

"Yep?"

"I got a little punk here. He's telling us how to do our jobs,"

"So? Beat the cunt up!"

Sherlock gave out a little groan and kicked the lockers.

"Oi!" The officer said.

"Oh shut up," Sherlock replied. "I'm going!"