Lestrade leads us up a circular staircase. He and John are wearing coveralls together with white cotton coverings over their shoes, and latex gloves. The tall man is putting on latex gloves as we trail up the stairs and I follow suit.
"I can give you two minutes," Lestrade tells the tall man. I stare blankly at the wall thinking that two minutes may not be enough time to figure out the entire story.
"May need longer," the tall man and I say in unison. We take a quick glance at each other, slightly confused, before I look back at Lestrade.
"Her name's Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards. We're running them now for contact details. Hasn't been here long. Some kids found her," Lestrade informs us. I nod along, listening to him. He leads us into a room two stories above the ground floor. The room is empty of furniture except for a rocking horse in the far corner. Emergency portable lighting has been set up, presumably by the police. Scaffolding poles hold up part of the ceiling near where a couple of large holes have been knocked through one of the walls. A woman's body is lying face down on the bare floorboards in the middle of the room. She is wearing a bright pink overcoat and high-heeled pink shoes. Her hands are flat on the floor on both sides of her head.
The tall man walks a few steps into the room and then stops, holding one hand out in front of himself as he focuses on the corpse. Behind him, John looks at the woman's body and his face fills with pain and sadness. The four of us stand there silently for several long seconds, then the tall man looks across to Lestrade.
"Shut up."
"I didn't say anything," Lestrade says quite taken back.
"It's annoying," the tall man states.
"Though I do have to agree, it is," I say shamefully, countering my previous statement. Lestrade and John exchange a surprised look as the tall man steps slowly forward until he reaches the side of the corpse. I watch as the tall man looks up from the body, like he is finished examining.
"I want her to try," the tall man says aloud looking up at me. I'm not shocked he pinpointed me to examine the body as I am some random stranger following them.
"Of course." I clear my throat after speaking. I step closer to the body, My attention is immediately drawn to the fact that scratched into the floorboards near the woman's left hand is the word 'Rache'. My 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 were still trying to carve into the floor when she died. I make an instant deduction:
Left handed.
I looks back to the word carved into the floorboards and an immediate suggestion springs into my mind:
RACHE
German (n.) revenge.
Instantly, I shake my head in a tiny dismissive movement and the mental suggestion disappears. I look at the carved word again trying to imagine what she was spelling out. Next to the 'e' a rapid progression of letters appear and disappear as I try to complete the word, then the correct letter settles into place to form the word:
Rachel.
I squat down beside the body and run my gloved hand along the back of her coat, then I lift my hand again to look at my fingers:
Wet.
I reach into her coat pockets and find a white folding umbrella in one of them. Running my fingers along the folds of the material, I then inspects my glove again. It's dry. Putting the umbrella back into her pocket, I move up to the collar of her coat and run my fingers underneath it before again looking at my fingers again. Wet.
"Hey, does somebody have a magnifier?" I question, not rushing one bit. Then the tall man hands me one. I click it open and closely inspects the delicate gold bracelet on her left wrist...
Clean
...Then the gold earring attached to her left 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 me. Dirty. I blink as a rapid succession of conclusions appear in front of my eyes.
Married
Unhappily married
Unhappily married 10+ years
I think... Could I be wrong? Carefully, I work the wedding ring off the woman's finger and hold it up to look at the inside of the ring. While the outside of the ring is still showing dirty, the inside is clean. As I lower the ring and slide it back onto the woman's finger, I have already reached a conclusion about the ring. She regularly removed it. Lifting my hands away from the woman, I look down at her and make my final deduction about her: Serial adulterer.
I smile in satisfaction, my heart pumping and my brain jumping. "Got anything?" Lestrade asks.
"Yes. Some stuff," I reply nonchalantly, trying to stay calm and not show my excitement too much.
"Not much," the tall man informs. "But I reached a conclusion as well." Standing up, I take off the gloves. Then the tall man grabs out his mobile phone from his pocket and begins typing on it.
"She's German. 'Rache': it's German for 'revenge'. She could be trying to tell us something-" Anderson says as he casually leans against the doorway. While he was speaking, the tall man walked quickly towards the door and starts to close it.
"Yes, thank you for your input," the tall man replies sarcastically. Slamming the door shut, he turns and walks back into the room. On my phone, I have called up a menu for 'UK Weather'. The menu offers five options:
Maps
Local
Warnings
Next 24 hrs
7 day forecast
I select an option. "So she's German?" Lestrade asks, adjusting his feet.
"No, but she is from out of town. She meant to stay in London for one night..." I say still looking at my phone. I smile smugly when I find the information I needed. "Before returning home to Cardiff," I finish saying as I put my phone back into my pocket.
"So far obvious," the tall man plainly states, seemingly trying to make me seem more dull-witted than I actually am.
"So far, yes," I agree with a stern tone in an attempt to assert my superiority. I do not like being undermined nor do I like it being implied that I am small-minded.
"Sorry – obvious?" John asks in shock. He looks at me and I just shrug.
"What about the message, though?" Lestrade inquires, clearly unable to catch up with us.
"Doctor Watson, what do you think?" The tall man asks John. He wants to see what John is capable of.
"Of the message?" John questions with a certain look on his face.
"No, of the body. You're a doctor, correct?" I question, hoping he'd give in.
"Wait, no, we have a whole team right outside," Lestrade interrupts.
"They won't work with me," the tall man replies, knowing he'll get his way.
"I'm breaking every rule letting you in here," Lestrade grumbles. This sounds like a common occurrence between the two.
"Yes... because you need me." I smirk at the talk man's comment as I've never seen someone other than myself with this much self-assurance. His pompous confidence could be considered quite attractive to the right person. Lestrade stares at him before looking at me, then he lowers his eyes helplessly.
"Yes, I do. God help me," Lestrade mutters, instantly regretting his decisions of letting us in here.
"Doctor Watson," The tall man brings up, getting John's attention.
"Hm?" John asks. He looks up from the body to the tall man and then turns his head towards Lestrade, silently seeking his permission.
"Oh, do as he says. Help yourself," Lestrade sighs as he turns and opens the door, going outside. "Anderson, keep everyone out for a couple of minutes."
***
A/N: I'm just following the show plot as of now to introduce the characters. Still working on editing.
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You Are My Mystery {Sherlock Holmes}
Fanfiction#1 in #sherlock #5 in #sherlock #7 in #johnwatson #1 in #sherlockholmes 8/9/22 (All rankings are out of 1,000+) She finally moved out of her adopted house. See, being a sociopath, people tend to not like you. That also includes her birth parents. At...
