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A little warning: First of all, English isn't my native language, so I'm truly sorry if my style is horrible or there is bunch of errors. I didn't get how the beta-reading works on this site, so if anyone is kind enough to beta next chapters, you'll be my idol forever =)
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Enjoy.
Chapter 2. Rita Sorrel
DI Lestrade was deeply concerned. He was in charge of dealing with this suspicious death of a wealthy French businessman in a prestigious hotel. Not so much to be happy about. Plus, his higher-ups forced him to work with a French colleague, a supposedly genius inspector from Paris. Of course, a high level of discretion on this case was required by the Board of the palace.
He was yawning while listening to the first report from Sally Donovan, when a cab stopped right behind the police line and two people popped out of it. Sergeant Donovan noticed them too, and It was clearly displeasing her.
"You called this freak again?" She asked.
It was probably a rhetorical question, and Lestrade didn't bother to answer. He patiently waited for the Consulting Detective and his loyal assistant to arrive, and for Sally to reluctantly return to her duties.
"It'd better be interesting" stated Sherlock instead of greetings. John simply nodded, since he already spoke to Lestrade on the phone. Slightly upset, Detective Inspector quickly summarized the situation:
"Robert Mercier, 51, French, was found dead by the maid this morning. He arrived in London by plane yesterday, 6pm, and checked in at 7. Never seen alive after that."
"Dull…" sighed Holmes, but decided to stay a little longer after taking note of John's glare.
"Hum. It could have been a suicide, but the scene was clearly rearranged after his death..."
"We all know it is not a suicide" spoke a lovely female voice to their left.
They all turned to see the brave one who interrupted a Scotland Yard representative. This person revealed herself to be a young woman, neatly and formally dressed, pale, grey-eyed, with a deep reddish brown short braid resting on her neck.
"I thought you were at the station" Lestrade noticed, surprised.
"It was so boring… I grabbed a cab" she answered, gazing at the hotel building.
"Oh, well, whatever… This is Mademoiselle Sorrel, a colleague from Paris" Lestrade explained to John, while Sherlock was quickly analyzing the new-comer. She was obviously wearing French clothes, not expensive but good quality. Caring about appearance? But her nails were not manicured and her hair was untidy, unthinkable for a true fashion-freak. So more probably just blending in her co-workers trend. Her hair-color wasn't natural, he managed to detect some black roots in this twilight. From afar she looked like a tourist examining an interesting architectural pattern, but her eyes were sharp and alert. Somehow she was like a cat, ready to attack while pretending to sleep. Sherlock frowned. He couldn't get any more personal data from Miss Sorrel. It happened to him only once until now, more than a year ago, and it was hard to forget about that Woman. Remembering their first meeting made him feel uneasy. Meanwhile, Lestrade ended introductions: "She worked on the case for a long time."
"It was just a death-threat though, not a murder" she specified, still not looking properly at them. "But it's getting vaguely interesting."
"Tell me about these threats?"
She finally turned her eyes from the building and stared at Sherlock with a strange look of disbelief and of interest.
"I like your voice" she noticed out loud and continued right on as if nothing happened. "Robert Mercier received some mails from an unknown crazy guy, he panicked, went to the police station and then left to Britain just so he could get killed and I could be scolded by my boss."
She had a quiet, melodic voice, almost spell-binding. Her facial expression seemed distant, although she used some childish notes at the end. All three of them stayed still for a moment, mesmerized by the sound of her slight yet charming accent.
"You look familiar, have we met before?" Sherlock asked all of a sudden.
"I don't think so. Should we go and see this crime scene, Detective Inspector?"
"Sure, let's go…"