(( Another chapter. Woohoo! This resolves the case they are on now. I think I may have resolved the case a bit too quickly, but I felt like I should get things moving on a bit to the better stuff.

Rate and review! Tell me what you think. What you like, what you don't like, what I can do to improve. It's all good. A

Anyway. Enjoy! ))

A cab had taken them to a huge building on the outskirts of London. The company where Richard Soot worked, the company that had its name printed in bold black letters on the ID badge. It was a computer firm and a busy one; as Amy and Sherlock walked through the corridors to the manager's office no end of smartly dressed people by.

"Finding the killer will be easy," stated Sherlock. "After all, it's not really an interesting case."

Then why are you doing it, Amy thought. Though, she shouldn't complain. She had wanted to see what Sherlock did, now she was. "If you're going to leg it from a crime scene, the last place you would run to is where you work," she said as they reached the manager's office.

Sherlock knocked on the door, saying nothing. Of course, he knew that, but he had a plan. He was confident it would work.

The door opened and the pair found themselves being led into the office by Mr Thundercliffe - a smartly dressed, arrogant, wealthy man. There was very little in the way of an introduction, Sherlock just cut to the chase, all while scanning every inch of the dull and depressing office.

"We're looking for Richard Soot. There has been an incident involving the people he has been staying with and we're wondering if he may know anything."

"He's not here," Thundercliffe boomed, "it's his week off. He works hard, that man. Too hard. Stresses himself out too much."

"Do you know where he might be?" Amy asked.

"No idea. I don't know the ins and outs of my employee's personal lives. I am only interested in what they do at work."

"Can you call him for us? I'm assuming you have his number," said Sherlock.

Thundercliffe nodded, walking to the phone. "What should I say?"

"Anything related to work. Something that isn't suspicious. Just make sure you ask him where he is. Sound interested."

While the manager was on the phone, Amy slid up alongside Sherlock, arms folded. "Are you sure you have the right man?"

"I wouldn't be here is I wasn't." He glanced at her sideways when she glanced at him. "I know what you're thinking."

"What am I thinking?"

"You thought it was their son."

"It could be."

"No, no, no, he's at university. I noticed letters from Oxford when I search one of the rooms. He's miles away."

"Right..."

"Easy assumption to make." An easy assumption for someone with a placid mind to make. He shouldn't be too hard on Amy. She had been useful. "Good spot with the keys, though."

A smile perched on her pale lips.

"You helped me prove my point."

"And there I was thinking you were about to say you missed that clue and thank me for finding it," she sighed.

"I never miss anything."

"If you say so."

"He said he's in a coffee shop in Knightsbridge," interrupted Thundercliffe.

That narrows is down, thought Sherlock sarcastically. "Which one?"

The manager shrugged.

"It's better than nothing, I supposed," the detective sighed. "We need to hurry before he moves," he told Amy, who nodded in agreement.

Instead, she was the one thanking the manager for his help because Sherlock flew out of the office and through the corridors, out of the building. It was a job to keep up with him.

Knightsbridge was busy, bustling with life. "Okay, now what do we do?" Amy frowned while she scanned the array of shops. Sherlock was already entering the nearest one.

"We search all of them until we find our man," he replied.

They spent a good half an hour searching. Amy's initial suggestion was that they split up to save time only to be reminded that the man they were looking for was the potential murderer.

I've faced plenty of murderers in my time. Alien murderers.

Eventually, in a popular coffee shop halfway down the road, they found Richard Soot - sitting in the corner sipping warily from a flimsy paper cup. As Sherlock observed him - all while pretending to order something (as if he was actually going to buy it!) - He noticed how uneasy Soot seemed to be. A classic tell-tale sign. The guilty conscience of an unintentional killer.

At one point, it appeared he checked a text, and then made to leave. As he did, Sherlock caught the brown-bearded man by the arm. "I think this belongs to you," he whispered, forcing into Richard Soot's hand his ID card.

"Where did you get that?!" Soot scanned the man who had stopped him. Realising he was Sherlock Holmes, that detective who had been in the papers for a few years, he made a run for it. Sherlock Holmes knew what he had done. This wasn't what he had expected. This wasn't good.

"Get after him!" Sherlock dragged Amy with him out of the shop, not apologising when he pushed past people who stopped to complain.

"That's definitely him?"

"The photo on the ID card doesn't lie. Now come on!"

Racing after Sherlock who was racing after Richard Soot, Amy made her best attempt to dodge people along the many streets they turned into. This takes me back, the voice inside her head sang, reminding her of the countless times she had spent running after people - or aliens, or other things - and running away from, with the Doctor.

To her surprise, she managed to gradually keep pace with her flatmate. He was quick, but then he'd need to be wouldn't he? Her breathing became heavy and her heart pounded hard against her ribcage. It was just like old time.

At Regent's Park, Sherlock finally caught Soot.

"I 'aven't done anythin'!"

"Really?" That's what they all say. "Amy, phone Lestrade. The number's in the contacts. Tell him not to bother wasting anymore brain cells and get down here now." He threw her his phone, which she almost didn't catch as she was too focused on getting her breath back.

"Then why did you run?" the detective continued, facing Soot. He had the man forced against the railings of the park so he couldn't escape.

"Lovely day for a jog," Soot shrugged.

Sherlock pushed him back harder.

"Alright, alright!" Soot protested.

"You killed Jeremy Ripsher."

"Look, I dint mean to. I only intended to know 'im out for an 'our or two. I 'it 'im too 'ard. But 'e was 'assling my sister, alright! She killed 'erself 'cause of that bastard! When I think about it, 'e probably deserved it! After what 'e's done to 'er. I've just lost my sister an' you wanna throw me in jail?!"

After Lestrade and another cop Amy didn't catch the name of arrived, Amy and Sherlock began briskly walking back to Baker Street.

"I suppose that was a doddle to you," she commented.

"It was hardly mind-blowing. It was Mycroft's attempt at keeping me occupied." He showed Amy a text he had just received from his brother. "It worked for a bit."

"Why do you do this stuff?"

"Well, why not? It's interesting and, occasionally, fun; and everything else is dull."

Amy agreed with most of that. "So, you had that case worked out from the moment we left the crime scene."

Sherlock vaguely smiled.

"So, what happened?"

"There is always tension between some couples getting divorced and there was probably enough tension between Jeremy and Louise Ripsher to drive them to their deaths. He was an alcoholic and she was depressed. Not exactly a match made in heaven. She found the pressure of trying to keep her husband's drinking habit at bay too much and he struggled to cope with her moods. Richard Soot, however - Louise's brother - was the most likely cause of all of this. It was obvious that he disliked his brother-in-law. He did his keep his sister away from him, especially during the divorce. Then, earlier this morning, there was an argument between husband and wife. He left for work, she took her own life."

"And Soot?"

"Upstairs the whole time I imagine, watching television on full volume. I suspect he was trying to drown out the argument. When he came down he saw his sister lying dead. After locking in the room he packed a bag full of Ripsher's things and threw the luggage out of the bedroom window when Ripsher returned and locked all the doors. Ripsher tried to get back inside through the living room window, only for Soot to hit him around the head with a metal pole."

"But there was no weapon..."

"There was. Sticking out of the outside bin. I noticed it when I walked out of the house. It had blood on it. I'm surprised no-one else saw it considering it was in the most obvious place."

"You were never told any of this." Amy sounded impressed.

"Like I said before, Amy, I observe everything."

"Then you piece everything together using what you've seen."

"Exactly."