Sherlock Holmes is a complicated man. He is a genius with both the emotional and social ranges of a teaspoon. John Watson, ex army doctor, is the opposite. with a normal IQ but buckets and spades of compassion. Usually, he is the one to temper off Sherlocks more unappealing traits while he works a case, and only when Sherlocks brother Mycroft is there, does somebody else battle the genius side. However, this changed on a morning in November. There had been a series of suicides in London, and the public was becoming concerned. DI Lestrade, a good friend on the force of Scotland Yard, had once again called Sherlock to help with the case as they were out of their depth. John and Sherlock sped to the crime scene as usual, where they found a middle-aged woman face down on the floor dead, having scratched something onto the floor spelling RACHE. Sherlock spent two minutes investigating.
Lestrade and John exchange a surprised look as Sherlock steps slowly forward until he reaches the side of the corpse. His attention is immediately drawn to the fact that scratched into the floorboards near the woman's left hand is the word "Rache". His eyes flick to her fingernails where the index and middle nails are broken and ragged at the ends, the pink nail polish chipped in stark comparison to her other nails which are still immaculate. The woman's index finger rests at the bottom of the 'e' as if she was still trying to carve into the floor when she died. Sherlock makes an instant deduction:
left handed
He looks back to the word carved into the floorboards and an immediate suggestion springs into his mind:
RACHE
German (n.) revenge
Instantly he shakes his head in a tiny dismissive movement and the suggestion disappears. He looks at the carved word again and overlays the five letters with a clearer type. Next to the 'e' a rapid progression of letters appear and disappear as he tries to complete the word, then the correct letter settles into place to form the word:
Rachel
He squats down beside the body and runs his gloved hand along the back of her coat, then lifts his hand again to look at his fingers:
wet
He reaches into her coat pockets and finds a white folding umbrella in one of them. Running his fingers along the folds of the material, he then inspects his glove again:
dry
Putting the umbrella back into her pocket, he moves up to the collar of her coat and runs his fingers underneath it before again looking at his fingers:
wet
Reaching into his pocket he takes out a small magnifier, clicks it open and closely inspects the delicate gold bracelet on her left wrist ...
clean
... then the gold earring attached to her right ear ...
clean
... and then the gold chain around her neck ...
clean
... before moving on to look at the rings on her left ring finger. The wedding ring and engagement ring flag a different message to him:
dirty
Sherlock blinks as a rapid succession of conclusions appear in front of his eyes:
married
unhappily married
unhappily married 10 years
Carefully Sherlock works the wedding ring off the woman's finger and holds it up to look at the inside of the ring. While the outside of the ring is still showing
dirty
the inside registers as
clean
As Sherlock lowers the ring and slides it back onto the woman's finger, he has already reached a conclusion about the ring:
regularly removed
Lifting his hands away from the woman, he looks down at her and makes his final deduction about her:
serial adulterer
Greg spoke up.
Greg- 'who is she?' Sherlock sighed.
Sherlock- 'Her...'
'Welsh national and a serial adulteress' heads snapped to the doorway of the bathroom at the far end of the room. A young woman, most likely in her thirties, was carefully dusting for fingerprints, not even looking at the body. If she hadn't been the only woman in the room, they may have all thought they had imagined it. She looked up from her work and froze, a deep blush creeping across her face. Greg barked at her.
Greg- 'Taylor! what do you mean she's Welsh and an adulteress?'
She looked at each of the faces blankly. Sherlock had a calculating face, John and Lestrade confused and Anderson, the bane of Sherlocks existence, had a sneer.
'Well its obvious isn't it? She has a small Welsh flag tattoo behind her left ear, most people wouldn't get a tattoo like that unless proud of their roots. She also has matching flags on her nails. She's wearing stockings underneath her tights. Usually, one would wear them when going home to her husband, but since we are not in Wales, she is obviously going home to somebody else. Shh also has a range of small sex toys in her purse. Ergo, an adulteress.'
Everybody looked at her for several minutes, Sherlock wore a smirk while Greg and John's mouths were hung open. Anderson then shouted.
Anderson- ' Oh god not another freak!.. OWW!'
'Oopps, sorry about that.' The woman apologised after 'accidently' dropping her dusting box onto her colleagues foot. John and Sherlock grinned at Andersons obvious pain. All heads turned to Sherlock as if asking for confirmation.
Sherlock- ' finally Gareth..
Greg- ' Its Greg.
Sherlock - ' Finally, you have found somebody competent to be on your team.' He walked towards the woman, completely ignoring the corpse on the floor. Which if anybody knows Sherlock, is unheard of.
Sherlock-' Let's see, 32, no 31,5'3 in height, id say a 14 in clothes, 5 shoe. single, no kids, worked her way up the ranks somewhere down south listening to the slightly southern accent, Hampshire if not Southampton id say, lived in an affluent part of the city until joining the police in early 20's, hasn't got any friends, enjoys her own company, doesn't care too much about what she looks like so happy to shove her hair up with a light make up. All As if not A* in school and college and wanting a new life in London.' He stopped, looking proud of himself and wearing a bigger grin. By the end of his monologue, he was stood directly in front of the woman looking down at her. an errant thought flit across his mind.
She's Tiny
She smirked up at him.
' Not bad Mr Holmes.' He turned away but froze as she spoke again.
'But not all correct.' She watched him face her slowly, a small crease in his brow.
'You are correct that i grew up in an affluent area. However, that was only until i were 15 when my parents were killed in an accident. I've been alone since. i also do not have any friends except one. my best friend of 26 years. But overall, it's not bad. The name is Emma Taylor.' She held her hand out for him to shake. He studied her a moment before firmly grasping it, not hearing the other men gasps as he did so.
Sherlock- ' Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes.' Turning away, he continued to the rest of those gathered, blatantly ignoring their shock.
Sherlock-' Victim is in her late thirties. Professional day career, going by her clothes; I'm guessing something in the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Travelled from Cardiff today, intending to stay in London for one night. It's obvious from the size of her...'
Emma-' erm, Mr Holmes?' For a second time heads swung towards the female officer. Usually Sherlock would act as if he hadn't heard but he once again shocked the others when he stopped mid sentence.
Sherlock-' Yes Miss Taylor?' John and Greg looked at him as if he had grown an extra head Never in all the time they had known the genius had he not only remembered somebody's name ( except John) or stopped mid explanation without insulting the one who interrupted.
Emma - ' There is one thing im confused about about.' She muttered, looking around the room. Sherlock looked at het quizzically, wondering if he had made a mistake thinking she was competent.
Sherlock-' and that is?' John was watching them like a tennis match, utterly gobsmacked at how different Sherlock was acting today.
Emma-' the case.'
Sherlock-' what about it?'
Greg-' what case?'
Sherlock' The case George the case!'
Greg- Sherlo..'
Emma-' Mr Holm..'
Sherlock-' Sherlock.'
Emma - 'Sherlock then, where has the case gone? it isnt here.'
Sherlock froze and looked around.
Sherlock ' where is the case? Has anyone seen the case?'
Greg-' It's probably at the hotel already.'
Emma-' Cant be, She hasnt been to the hotel yet.' Sherlock spun in a circle, striding across the room he took Emma's face in his hands and said.
Sherlock-'I could kiss you!'
Emma-' Erm' She didnt have time to respond before he took off out the door and raced back down the stairs. Lestrade shot after him and shouted down the hallway.
Greg-' Sherlock!'
Sherlock-' Find the case!'
It took a moment for the room to start moving again. Anderson scoffed and stormed out of the door. Lestrade shook his head and followed and John chuckled. Walking to the rookie police officer who appeared to have captured his best friend's attention. He held out his hand.
John-' John Watson, don't worry about him, he gets excited when there is a murder. Do you know Mycroft?'
Emma-' Sorry who?' Taking his hand she shook it gently.
John-' Never mind.'
Emma-' Is he always like that?'
John-' Pretty much. this your first day? '
Emma-' First day in this team yes, Anyway, back to work. Nice to meet you Dr Watson.' She gave him a smile and followed her superior. John shook his head, How the hell did she know he was a doctor. Giving a little laugh he slowly made his way out of the crime scene, Sherlock was long gone so he decided to just head to his work at the health clinic.