''She wasn't a very good mother; she didn't even seem to care about her children. All that she always cared about is her makeup, her money... at the end of our marriage, I hated that women. ''

He sat down in the armchair in front of Sherlock who was watching him carefully. John was next to him and asking the questions.

''When was the last time you saw her?''

''Last week when I came back to fetch the kids back, of course the only words she said to me was ''your late.''.

The father had a strong accent so was the size of his round stomach. Even if he was only saying bad things about his wife, he seemed to have a sad glow in his eyes, maybe of pity for the gone mother. John took the cup of tea in front of him on the table in front of his seat and brought it to his mouth. Sherlock was still staring at the man that he described already as a suspect, making very uncomfortable. Holmes took a small smile on his mouth but only John sitting next to him saw it, and when he did, he knew what was coming up next. The consulting detective took a loud breath in as he stood back up in the deep and soft seat. As he looked even closer the under pleasured man, he left his mind palace to finally reveal his arrogant thoughts.

''I'm sure that your wife wasn't only annoying to you , she probably had hundreds of enemies, and in all these people...''

He stood up and gave a smile to John before continuing.

''...One, only one hated her so much that he could even do the most extreme act of hatred ever towards someone : murder. ''

He turned back to the fat man with a rush step.

''Did you wife ever mention a person she knew in her childhood that she hated? A stalker? A close enemy? Or maybe an arch enemy so we could also suspect her elder brother.''

That last phrase left John exasperated.

''Or maybe a close arch enemy that she knows from her childhood that is stalking her.''

''What are you talking about Mr. Holmes?''

''Oh don't tell me who it is, It would spoil all the fun!''

He stopped and smiled cleverly.

''I'll need the names of her classmates in college and all the information about her friends, contacts and principally her enemies. Right now, the list of suspect is around... I would say... 200.

''Are you mad? And what about the animal bites she had on her body? Are you investigating on an actual murder?!''

Sherlock lost his smile and turned around to the confused only married person in the room.

''What did you expect?! Even you know that it's not a simple beast that killed her.'' In a fast move he grabbed the husband's head and looked at him straight in the eyes. '' you know it because you already have your ideas about who ended her life. You should have noticed earlier that we were insinuating a murder but you didn't ask because you knew it before us. You actually knew it before she got killed. And even know you're sitting so straight and correctly in your seat because you're strained about our presents, especially mine. You know that I know that you know who killed her so spit it out before I go upstairs to have a word with the naked women in the bathroom about your children. But I don't think you want her to know.''

''You didn't have to do that Sherlock.''

''Come on, admit it, that slap that girl gave him was amazing.''

''And how did you figure out she had herself a husband?''

''Come on, she wasn't that young after all and had a golden bracelet written on one of the sides ''Elizabeth & Andrew''. The man we just meat was called Carl. You don't need to be a genius to understand that the date on the other side of the bracelet is the weeding date. ''

John didn't answer, feeling a bit stupid. He had in his hand the paper with the names and numbers of the suspects Mr. Combri gave them. There was written about 17, 18 strangers name Sherlock and John would need to go and meet. Under his other arm, was Mrs. Combri college year's book, with the names and pictures of her classmates.

''Now that I think of it, why are you only taking the information about her college period? Why not high school or primary school too?''

''Tell me John Watson, have you ever wanted to kill someone when you weren't even 16, 17? I doubt that the criminal we are looking for had that king of thoughts in kinder garden.''

''Maybe she knew him from before.''

''She was Irish John.''

Said Sherlock in a sigh.

''She moved to England when she was just 7.''

John opened his mouth. He just did a little ''oh...'', he was amazed by the tall man's skills.

They were still walking before reaching the first address written on the paper. John stopped, reading the phew words written one more time before looking back to his friend.

''its here.''

Sherlock turned back to him with a smiley mouth and grateful blue eyes.

''Well, after you , John.''