_*_*_John_*_*_
"It was nice to meet you Nikki!" John called to Nikki's retreating back. She glanced over her shoulder with a sweet smile as she headed off.
If I were a single man not about to get married,
He thought letting his gaze drift down to watch Nikki's swaying backside. He bit his lip "Nice," he breathed giving her one last look before turning. Nikki wasn't his usual type but she had this spark and a certain pull that drew on him.
"I can see why Sherlock likes her," he mumbled to himself stuffing his hands in his pocket. Nikki remained on his mind as he stopped by 221B to check if Sherlock was back.
"John!" he greeted the shorter man throwing the door open for him even before he had knocked.
John looked a bit startled but entered the flat closing the door behind him. "Got yourself a case I see," he said glancing at the smiley face and gun hole wall to see papers stuck to it.
"Indeed I have!" Sherlock exclaimed crouching in his chair like a gargoyle.
"Must be good," John muttered dropping into his perspective seat.
Sherlock glanced at him "What gave you that idea?" he asked looking back at the wall.
John smirked "Your mood, it's either the case or your new friend. I use the word friend loosely." He added getting a thrown glare from Sherlock "John, don't be an idiot," he snapped springing from his chair. "Speaking of your new friend," John started, "She stopped by while you were out so I took her to lunch."
Sherlock stood on the couch moving the papers on the wall about. "She's lovely," John said watching Sherlock who didn't seem to be listening, "And she's a man," John threw out loudly.
"Yes, yes I see," Sherlock muttered not paying John any attention as the slender man stepped off the couch to look over the wall.
"John, look at these," Sherlock spoke suddenly spinning from the wall and grabbed up some papers off the desk. He swooped in dropping the papers on John's lap before returning to scan the wall.
John picked up the papers that turned out to be crime scene photos. They were of a young woman lying on a bed, her eyes were closed and she had been tucked into bed as if she had just fallen asleep.
"Are you sure this woman is dead?" John asked shuffling through the pictures.
"Most assured," Sherlock replied walking over to his seat and perching in it, his eyes closed.
"Well from these I would say she died in her sleep," John said.
Sherlock snorted "There was a large amount of phosphorous in her system I doubt it was natural," he told the smaller man.
"Phosphorous? There are trace amount of that in the body of course." John said aloud.
Sherlock cracked one of his eyes open glancing at him "It's also found in many types of fertilizer and rat poisons. The amount found in her system was enormous and wasn't come by on accident." Sherlock added John looked over the pictures again.
"Anything else to go on?' he asked.
Sherlock sighed lowering himself into his chair completely dropping his feet to the floor "The evidence was menial. The woman was middle aged, lived alone, worked a steady job as a receptionist at a small law firm. Her flat was clean and not a fresh clean, all the prints found were hers. There were no defensive wounds or bruising of any kind. Other than the phosphorous in her system nothing points to murder."
"The contents of her stomach were clean so the phosphorous was introduced directly into her blood stream. That amount in her system it wouldn't have taken long to be fatal and there would have signs beforehand. Vomiting, diarrhea, and pain but her flat shows nothing of that sort nor does her body. The food in her stomach was fresh so she hadn't eaten long before she died. It's a mystery," he said his hands folded under his chin.
John set the pictures down on the coffee table "It is peculiar," he agreed as a silence fell over them.
"You mentioned lunch with Nikki," Sherlock said catching John off guard a moment, "I did," he answered watching the man's face.
Sherlock turned his face to look at him "And?" he asked.
John was confused by the one word question, "And what?" he asked wanting clarity.
Sherlock sighed sitting forward in his chair "And what did you think of her?" he asked rolling his eyes.
John smiled "She's nice. I see why you like her." He replied thinking about Nikki's cute smile.
Sherlock stared at him then suddenly glared "You find her attractive," he grumbled. John opened his mouth in shook as well as embarrassment, "Don't bother denying it I can see it all over your face," Sherlock muttered.
John closed his mouth "She's cute," he confessed lamely.
Sherlock frowned "Animals are cute, children are cute, Nikki is…" he paused searching for the right word, "Interesting," he finished John felt a pang of jealousy shoot through him.
What the Hell?
He cleared his throat "People can be cute too," John said weakly.
Sherlock gave him a curious look but the look vanished quickly as they heard feet stomping up the stairs. The flat door flew open allowing a breathless Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade to enter "Another murder," Sherlock stated simply standing.
He moved over the furniture to retrieve his coat off the rack near the door. John pushed himself from his chair grunting slightly as he moved to follow. Lestrade caught his breath "It's at 26 West Heights," he managed not bothering to say anything more before turning, leaving just as quickly as he had come.
"He needs to run more," Sherlock commented waiting for the doctor.
John frowned "No he doesn't," he said.
"If he gets winded like that just by climbing the stairs then yes he does. A man his age has a higher risk of heart attacks. Strengthening his pulmonary by regular exercise decreases those odds drastically," Sherlock argued as he turned sweeping out the door.
The two were down the stairs and out on the street within seconds Sherlock threw up his hand summoning a cab and they were off.
"Maybe I should invite Lestrade to come with us next time we are running rampant after criminals," John joked as they traveled through the streets.
Sherlock glanced at him as if considering the idea "Excellent suggestion, we are running quite often," he pointed out seriously missing the joke completely. John sighed and rolled his eyes.
The drive to West Heights took less than ten minutes. When they arrived a handful of police cars blocked the road in front of a dainty two story. Sherlock had the cab stop, bolting from the car and racing away leaving John to take care of the fare.
John made it inside to find Sherlock cornered by his two favorite people. Sergeant Sally Donavan and Anderson stood their ground arms folded across their chests looking like an odd pair of twins.
"Freak," Donavan hissed though Sherlock didn't seem fazed, "Don't tell me Lestrade invited you again," it wasn't a question Sherlock just stood quietly.
"I bet he circled around to make it look like he wasn't here the whole time," Anderson commented he sneered.
Donavan glared "Is that it Freak got tired of waiting so you just set up a murder yourself," she accused.
Morons! Can't they see how brilliant he is!
John thought growling under his breath wanting nothing more than to knock the looks off their faces. Striding forward he slipped his arm through the crook of Sherlock's dragging him towards Donavan and Anderson forcing them to move aside.
"Come on Sherlock lets go get some actual work done and leave the ladies to their gossiping," John said loudly glaring over his shoulder at the two. As they moved further into the house John let go of Sherlock.
"They don't bother me," he spoke quietly.
John sighed deeply "Yea well they bother me when they're not 'bothering' you," John told him catching a small smile playing on Sherlock's lips.
Sherlock grabbed John's shoulder squeezing it gently before heading for the stairs. John's chest grew warm as he watched his friends go before he followed seeing Lestrade at the stairs waiting. Sherlock barely paused moving past the D.I. quickly taking the stairs two at a time.
"Rough day?" John asked Lestrade as they took the stairs a little more slowly.
Greg blew out a large sigh "Rough doesn't even cut it," he replied rubbing his neck.
"I don't know how you do it," John told him patting his arm as they made it in to the room.
Sherlock was strolling around the room eyeballing everything and sniffing deeply like a large dog. John and Lestrade stood back watching him.
"Any plans this weekend?" John asked wanting to catch up.
"Hopefully get some much needed sleep, you?" Greg answered.
John shrugged "Might go to the pub if you're up for it?" he asked.
Lestrade smiled "Definitely keep that in mind," he replied seeming genuinely excited.
John smiled "I'll text you place and time when I feel the need," he assured watching Sherlock come to a stop by the body on the bed. "Excuse me," John said moving to stand by Sherlock to get his own up close view.
It was an older woman in her late fifties at least with silvery blonde hair curled tightly to her head dull brown eyes stared lifeless at the ceiling. John grimaced as he noted her clothes they were most definitely designed for a much younger woman. A tight blue sequence halter top covered her chest, a mid-thigh black mini skirt hung on her hips. She lay half sprawled on the bed letting her legs dangle over the edge bare feet barely touching the molded carpet.
"What do you see?" Sherlock's voice broke into John's observation. He glanced to see Sherlock watching him.
Revealing clothing, very smudged makeup, messed hair, obvious drug user…
John thought "A Prostitute?" he tried.
Sherlock smirked giving John slight hope he might be right, "That's what the murder wants us to see but these clothes were put on her after she was dead," Sherlock told him.
John frowned cursing mentally. The taller man crotched down to look at the body from a different angle just as Lestrade's phone started to go off making the D.I. leave the room.
"She might not have been a prostitute but there was a prostitute here maybe two hours before this woman died," Sherlock muttered standing up straight.
"What?!" Lestrade's voice snapped John looked to see the man standing on the stairs leaning against the wall a glare on his face.
"And how on earth did you deduce that?" John asked slightly curious.
Sherlock sighed looking over at John hands folded behind his back "Note the clothes made for younger woman plus the contents of this room," Sherlock gestured, "The closet slightly open shows the articles of a young woman's mess. The slight scent of lavender in the air from freshly applied perfume could be the killers but I cut it down to it being the younger woman's namely the true prostitute."
"Next the trash can," Sherlock swung around pointing dramatically at the small bucket in the corner, "Condom wrappers I count fifteen and they are fresh within the last few days a woman with that much vigor isn't in her fifties," John couldn't have agreed more put he stayed quiet letting Sherlock finish. "This woman was a handler much like a secretary," he explained John was flabbergasted. It was almost as if a vale had been lifted John could see what Sherlock was seeing and the signs were just as clear. This is how he felt every time a deduction came out of Sherlock's mouth, it was pure wonder.
Amazing!
"Can you see any wounds?" Sherlock asked leaning over the body in search before stepping back to allow John to get closer.
"Hang on," John murmured digging in his pockets he pulled out a pair of latex gloves and slipped them on. He looked over the body, shifting stiff limbs. Minutes went by as he thoroughly scanned the body "I've found nothing," John finally said giving up pulling the gloves off.
Sherlock didn't seem surprised "An autopsy might reveal a very large amount of phosphorous in her system," he suggested.
John stared "You think this is linked to Sleep Beauty?" he asked seeing a confused look in Sherlock's eyes.
"Sleep beauty? I wouldn't call her beautiful but yes I think we have a serial killer on our hands," he replied an excited gleam in his eyes.
Lestrade came back into the room looking haggard "Results came in," he announced, "Prints matched up with about twenty different people all men but one."
Sherlock skipped "Then John and I will go directly to see those results and see what we come up with." He said clearly in a good mood.