The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Christine Maryland *DISCONTINUED*

Attack #2

I was just about done my day at school. Normally, I would go back to my dorm, but instead, I was taking the cab to my new home.

221b Baker Street.

Home of the world's greatest, and only, consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes.

Now, it's home to possibly another great detective, which is me, Christine Maryland.

I wouldn't consider myself to be a detective quite yet. I'm more like Sherlock's colleague, even though we share the same intelligence...almost.

Originally, I was just staying there until the whole murders at the campus were solved, then I would move back into my dorm.

However, I really liked Sherlock, and he offered me a chance to move into 221b. I thought he could use the company, so I took up on his offer.

I actually liked it, to be honest.

I can share my talent with someone who didn't judge me.

Sure, Sherlock can be a serious pain in the ass, but I feel like him, John Watson and I make up a good team.

___________________________________

I got out of the cab and got out my keys, automatically hearing the sound of the violin playing coming from our flat, which caused me to smile to myself.

I love hearing Sherlock play. He does it so lovely.

As I listened more, I recognized it as Beehtoven's Violin Romance #2 in F., Op. 50.

It was one of my favorite classical pieces. Claire de Lune was my top favorite, because it reminded me of my mother, and I feel like that song gives me a chance to feel her presence whenever I play it on the piano.

I walked up the stairs, and sure enough, there he was, his back facing to me

I entered the room quietly and put my books down on my chair. I then entered back into the main room and sat on the couch, listening to him play. I knew that he knew I was there, for I saw him take a little glance at me. 

When he finished, he looked at me.

"New case?" I asked.

He nodded. "Interesting? Yes, indeed. I'm assuming you haven't heard anything on the news in the past 24 hours."

I shook my head. "Been busy all day. Why, what happened? Judging by your smirk on your face, it has to be a murder."

"It is a murder, but no one has figured it out yet," he said, "65 year old William Muse was minding his own business at Kaffeine Coffe Shop on 66 Great Titchfield Street. It was a normal work day, or so he thought. Around 12:30 pm, a high pitch frequency sound is heard throughout the shop. It could be heard in the headphones of others and on the speakers in the shop. Later, a crash is heard, and the frequency stops. What was that crash, Christine? Please answer for me correctly."

I didn't even have to think twice about it, for I knew exactly where he was going with this. "William Muse," I said, "And he was having a form of a seizure. Since this is a murder case, he must have died."

"Exactly," Sherlock says, beaming, "Now the question is this; why was he killed? Why did they use this to kill him?"

"They must have known that he has a history of seizures," I said, "Frequencies like that can cause that like really bright flashing. I should know because my family has a history of them. So, when you went to investigate the area, which I am assuming you have done because you were playing and it says it helps you think, do you know what the symptoms were?"