The Science of Seduction ❤ BBC SHERLOCK ONE-SHOTS/IMAGINES

Sherlock - Framed (Part 1)

A/N: Notice how the title says part 1. This means that there will be another part of this one-shot in future chapters if not the next one. Enjoy!

"Evening. I'm Y/N from the Department of Private Investigators. I've come with a few inquiries regarding the murder of Sera Ski." I walk inside of the interrogation room with a file folder.

"Do you really think I had something to do with this?!" The man exclaims.

"I'm only trying to help, but you must cooperate." I take my seat in front of him.

He sighs and buries his face in his hands. I gesture for the security to leave, so I can be alone in the room with him.

"What can you tell me about the night of murder?" I inquire.

"I didn't...kill her. I know I didn't!" He tells me.

"Do you remember anything?" I squint.

"No. Not since I left work. It's weird, I don't know how I got there, but I swear, I have no memory of killing her!" He replies, panicking.

"It's alright...let's start over. What can you tell me about this photo?" I ask, showing him a photo of the dead girl.

He stares at it, he expression pale.

"Is that her?" He asks.

I nod, staring at him, his eyes are widened to his horror:

"I'm not capable of slitting an innocent girl's throat."

"I never said it was you. Now, based off this image, what do you propose the murder weapon was?" I ask.

He stares at the photo again, wincing at the amount of blood:

"I-I don't know...a scalpel? If you don't think I did it, then why am I here?" He asks me.

"It was a pen," I correct him. "And the reason you have been brought here was because you were found at the crime scene, with the victims blood all over you."

"Oh my god...please Miss you have to believe me, I didn't kill her! I have a wife, we're expecting soon...I don't remember anything, I swear..." He clenches a hand over his mouth.

"Don't worry, sir. I believe you, and I'm going to help you." I tell him, placing a hand on his own.

"But you said the victims blood was all over me...h-how can you possibly...help?" He asks.

"They all think you did it, but I believe you've been framed. You see, you lack motive, and I just...I know a killer when I see one. You, sir, are not a killer, and I'm determined to catch the real culprit." I ease him, and he nods.

"Thank you...so much, Miss Y/N...God be with you." He sighs.

I nod in silent thanks, before collecting my file and making my way to the door. As I reach for the knob, he speaks again, stopping me:

"Oh, wait!"

"Yes?" I turn and raise a brow at him.

"You said you were the only one in the department who believed me and...if there's anyone who can help with this case, it's Sherlock Holmes. Please, tell him about my situation." He says.

I inhale a small breath and nod curtly, before taking my leave.

❤❤❤

I get a cab to the flat of Sherlock Holmes. 221B Baker Street. I know the address like it's my own. Lestrade, the man I'm grateful to for assigning me on this enamoring case, always talks about that bloke.