"We've been through the CCTV ourselves," began the bar manager leaning against a desk in a claustrophobic office, "and the police, but there is no footage of the woman. Our cameras don't stretch that far out. They only view the main entrance, inside and round the back. Whatever happened is out of shot. Sorry."

Sherlock sighed in frustration. Your CCTV is useless, he thought. "Don't worry about it. Thank you for your help." He was being polite. No thank you for no help, more like.

"That was a waste of time," he muttered, walking through the bar with Amy. Despite it being the early evening the bar was pretty crowded already. It would only get worse as the hours ticked by, a prospect that made Sherlock want to get out of there as soon as possible. It would be better without to solve the case without the social distractions - a case that was far from being solved yet.

Amy was trying to be encouraging but it wasn't much help. All he wanted to do was think and he couldn't do that here with all of the noise. He had investigated both crime scenes as thoroughly as he could, missing nothing, yet finding no importance in the things he found. He figured that the police hadn't, either, seeing as the bar was open for business so soon.

"Amy!" An innocent high-pitched voice rang out from behind.

Amy stopped, turned, and greeted Molly with a grin. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Mickey from the lab agreed to hang out with me for a while." Mickey was the new lab technician at St Bart's. It was only temporary, though. Molly had told Amy how she had met him on his first day at lunch and had shown him around the hospital. She had decided that she liked him there and then but she wasn't going to get her hopes up just yet. He had agreed to come out with her, though, so that was a start, right? "He's just gone to get drinks..."

"But here?" Amy asked surprised. "After what happened?"

"It was Mickey's choice. It's close to where he lives... The woman wasn't exactly found dead on the doorstep, though, was she? I'm fine with it..."

"Great!" Amy patted her friend on the shoulder and side glanced an impatient Sherlock.

"Oh, why don't you stay?" Molly suggested shyly but with enthusiasm, too. It had been a while since she and Amy had had a proper catch-up.

"Yeah. Why not?" The redhead took a seat next to Molly.

A sigh left Sherlock's lips. "I'll leave you to it then..." He didn't need Amy's help. He would be fine on his own.

"You can join us... I-if you like..." Molly told him, clamming up a little at the sight of him. Yet he brushed her off.

"No thanks, Molly. I have something I need to do."

It was just as loud outside as it was inside. In the street, people passed by talking on mobiles or to their walking partners, music played from inside several club situated in a row, buses and taxis rolled by with their noisy engines roaring as the went by. The day was almost at an end. The sky was a blaze of orange and pink and purple at the top, ready for nightfall.

Sherlock started his journey back to Baker Street. No cab was needed; he wasn't that far away. Walking also gave him time to think when he was able to block out the outside world. There was no cab driver whittling on about his 'hectic' day; he could just get on with his thought processes without disturbance.

Suddenly, he felt himself being pushes sideways, off the street, into an alleyway. As he was forced against the stone wall he set his eyes upon the face of his sudden attacker. A woman. Dark haired. Pale skinned –

One of the victims from earlier!

The version he had seen of her at the morgue had been somewhat graceful, kind, peaceful. This version in front of him, gripping at him, was violent, strong. Something dark and dangerous lingered in her vibrant green eyes. His own eyes were wide with shock.

"Your friend. The redhead. Where is she?" hissed the woman. With strong hands she held the detective back firmly. At one point he managed to shove her back and try to flee; only she was much too quick and much too strong to allow him freedom.

"Where is she?"

"You are supposed to be dead."

"Where. Is. She?"

"You were dead this morn-"

"Where is she?!" She gripped him harder and he struggled for breath.

"I don't know," he lied. He wasn't going to tell her of Amy's whereabouts just so she could do the same to her.

She saw right through him. "Don't lie to me! I saw you two leave your flat. I've been following you both -"

"If you have been following us then you will... know -" he breathed. "- where she is."

"Tell me!"

"Why? Oh, wait, I know. She knows someone who you are trying to find."

"Yes, and he has something that belongs to me. I would like it back. Your precious Amy is going to get it back for me."

She is not my precious Amy.

Coughing, he shook his head adamantly. "I'm still not going to tell you. I'm going to find out what is going on."

The woman became more aggressive as her determination increased. Her brutal kick to his knees made him double over and fall. Normally, he would have been able to fight her off, except she was terribly strong. Out-of-the-ordinary-strong. She had a strength he never knew anyone could have.

"I will give you one last chance, Mr Holmes." She spoke like a snake. "Where is she?"

He defied her until she grew tired. She prevented him from getting to his feet. "You will regret it," she spoke. There was a blue light; brighter than any of the lights in the street, and all Sherlock saw after was darkness.