Typically crime scenes don't smell like cheese. There was that one case with the Brie expert, but that was only time John had been completely overwhelmed by the scent. However, this crime scene was in a simple gas station store. It was the kind that sold slushies, nachos, and under brewed tea.

Fillmore, a detective for Scotland Yard, had called him and Sherlock to the store. He got a kick out of Sherlock when he stormed into the building, demanding that he talk to Lestrade. Well, actually Fillmore had attempted to throw him out at first, but once Sherlock had deduced that he needed help with his job because he didn't have enough time for his family of three, because he was working overtime with the force, Fillmore was impressed by the detective. He took him on as an "unpaid intern" (a title which Sherlock detested). Mostly, though, Fillmore liked the idea that this "Sherlock" was actually Benedict Cumberbatch trying a weird method of getting into character. He figured that was why the actor was so good at his job. He told himself every day that he would work up the courage to ask him for an autograph or photo, but that day had yet to come.

It seemed like a simple enough case when Fillmore explained it. One of the employees entered at her appointed shift time, but no one else was in the store. She looked around for the manager or for her coworker. Fillmore explained that she had called their cell phones, only to hear them ring in the store, and, to top it all off, she found that the cash register was wide open with nothing in it. At that point she called the police. Of course, Sherlock only rolled his eyes at the phone and huffed out a breath of air as if to say "Isn't it obvious?"

Fillmore, who was getting to know this huff of air well, then stated the bit about the cheese. John hadn't caught what he said on the phone, since Sherlock started pacing and paying attention. Regardless to say, within ten minutes they were at the convenience store.

"What do think of this John?" Sherlock asked, startling John as he was beginning to nod off. John ran a hand over his tired face. The rest of the police officers had gone home for the evening. Fillmore had left the scene open for them as he closed up everything, meaning that it was eleven o'clock at night.

"It looks like a lot of cheese." John answered. He didn't have to look at Sherlock to know the look he had just gotten. "Umm… it looks like it was poured over a something, since the spill is all around this red chair, but not actually on it for the most part. That means something must have been in the chair when the cheese was poured."

"Why did you say something, not someone?"

"Well there's no body is there? And there aren't any footprints leading away from the chair." John looked at the cheese splatter again. There were some footprints that stood in front of the chair, but there weren't any other ones that he could see.

"So what do you suppose the poured the cheese on then?" Sherlock asked. He was circling the puddle, careful not to disturb any of it.

"Maybe a pot or something?"

"A pot?" Sherlock scowled, pausing his investigation to look up at John. "Why would they pour the cheese into a pot?"

"Maybe they wanted to bring the cheese with them as a snack?" Sherlock sent another look John's way. "I don't know Sherlock. It's not really like all people are rational. Maybe they just had a cheese obsession and wanted to drink it as they ran away with the cash from the store."

"You think that the manager and the employee robbed this store and then ran away with the cash, but in the process decided they wanted to take some cheese with them."

"Yes." John replied, his voice sounding more like a question than an affirmation.

"Hmm." Sherlock hummed for a moment before clicking his magnifying glass closed and standing up straight.

"Have you got something then?"

"Just a bit." Sherlock was grinning at the thrill of the puzzle.

"Go on then," John prompted him crossing his arms. "What have you got?"

"At least one of the men was murdered, but I highly suspect both of them were."

John's eyebrows knit in thought so intense that you could practically see the loading symbol on his forehead as he processed Sherlock's conclusion. "They're both dead? How could you possibly deduce that?"

"It's simple really," Sherlock gestured to the cheese as if he expected John to magically see what he did. After a moment, he sighed and pointed to some lines in the cheese. "You see these John? They were created as something was dragged across them. Given the width of them and their placement near the front of the chair, they were most likely made by a human. As you can see, there are a large number of these marks, which go all in, more or less the same direction, but there are no footprints, so the person who was making these marks couldn't get up. Why? He was strapped to his chair. You can see the duct tape residue on the back. The number of marks indicates that he was flailing. Since the marks are there after the cheese was poured on, the cheese alone didn't kill him. Something else did."

"You mean to say that there was a person sitting in that chair, who was covered in cheese?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying Watson." Sherlock replied.

"But where's the body? There aren't any drag marks around the chair. Did the murderer just pick him up and bring him elsewhere?"

"John…"

"Yes Sherlock?" John asked exasperated.

"Did you know that this type of cheese is normally one color, something like a yellow- orange?"

"And this is important because?

"This puddle has spots that are red- orange, especially around the chair."

"And?"

"Well, that means there must have been some blood. The shapes of the spots are circular, see? So that means the blood came from a fairly vertical angle like a drip. Then you have the fact that there's no blood splatters on the walls, so the victim couldn't have been failing at this moment. He was probably already dead. The victim could have been hit on the end with a blunt object. The splatter pattern matches that, but…there's something else." Sherlock put his fingers on his temples as he looked at the chair.

"How did you know it was blood? It could be food dye." John pointed out, gesturing with his left hand for emphasis.

"Oh simple. I tasted it. There was an iron taste in it. Of course, we'll need proper testing, but I'm confident that it's blood."

"You tasted it Sherlock? God, you tasted-Sherlock you can't do that! You're going to get sick or-"

"Please John, save the lecture. I know the risks involved." Sherlock steepled his hands and put them against his lips. "The real question here is: why did the murderer cover his victim in cheese before killing him. It's an extra effort. The tank would be heavy. It would be take up time, in which he could risk being caught. It would make the murder more noticeable. Why? Why would he do this?"

"Maybe he wanted to make his victim tastier." John joked sourly, obviously miffed about Sherlock's lack of thought when it came to giving himself diseases. Honestly, everyone knows not to taste other peoples' blood.

"John that's ridicu…." Sherlock trailed off. His eyes darted around the scene from the chair to all of the splatters of cheese and blood. "Unless?"

"Unless, what Mr. Cumb-Holmes?" Fillmore asked. He was standing in the back of the convenience store with his arms crossed.

"Well if the murderer ate his victim after killing him, then that could explain why there are no footprints leading away from the chair from the victim." Sherlock answered. His hands were in his pockets reaching for his phone.

"A murderer wouldn't be able to eat his victim in the chair. It's not humanely possible."

"Precisely." Sherlock took the phone out of his pocket, already dialing a number. "Come on John we have a call to make."