Praetorian

3

When the men got back to the flat Sherlock and Lestrade went upstairs. While John went to retrieve his bag from Mrs. Hudson.

"Everything all right?" She asked.

John smiled reassuringly. "Quite. Thank you again Mrs. Hudson. I have to get upstairs and discuss some things with Sherlock and Detective Inspector Lestrade. Good evening."

John went back upstairs mind already going back over the close call. They didn't even know who the gunman was after. Sure, John didn't have any known enemies but technically neither did Sherlock. He couldn't count the media. And this Moriarty character was still an unknown to John. He wasn't exactly sure what his game was. Moriarty's messages to Sherlock seemed blatantly sexual. But John had a feeling it was meant to come across that way and there was really a hidden meaning. One that only Sherlock would understand or that Moriarty thought Sherlock would understand.

Moriarty had confessed to nefarious deeds so he knew the man was capable of orchestrating a hit on himself or Sherlock. But he seemed to need Sherlock for something. But what? Was Sherlock aware of the reason?

Opening the door to their flat, he saw Lestrade sitting on the couch, tie undone and coat wrapped over the side. His hair was a mess like he had run his hands through it repeatedly. Sherlock on the other hand was as calm as a vet; but he had a serious case of adrenaline rush going on. He was excited, absolutely beside himself with excitement. He was practically vibrating with it. John found it infectious.

"Ahh, there you are. Quite an exciting first day. Hope this didn't scare you off." Sherlock commented casually.

"No of course not. This isn't the norm for you right? I mean it's not everyday you find yourself accosted by a cabbie."

Sherlock didn't say anything. He sat down in his seat and less than 15 seconds he had hopped back up.

"Sherlock! Focus. Please give me your impression of the crime scene now that your- what is he?" Lestrade asked pointing to John.

"As I said previously, I'm simply a colleague sharing a flat with him." John explained.

"Huh. Well you two seemed pretty chummy earlier. But anyways, now that he is here can you please walk me through it so I can get back to the station and write up a report."

"I'd be happy to. First, as John pointed out, the victim had been dead at least two day prior to being dropped from the building. The body had to have been dropped at least twice."

"Okay, this part I understand. That was the reason I called you out there in the first place Sherlock. Anderson wanted to argue the toss. He thought that the body could have bounced upon hitting the ground and that was the reason he had abrasions on both his face and signs of the same on his back."

Sherlock gave Lestrade a droll stare. "Your first mistake was even bothering to argue with Anderson, you should just ignore him. I mean seriously, he's your Forensic Scientist and he-"

"Sherlock." John interrupted gently.

"Yes. Sorry. So the blood on the third story and the roof was staged."

"Staged?"

Sherlock began speaking again, rapidly in a low excited voice. "Obviously Lestrade. I'm so sure of it, you could test the blood, no, you should have it tested. I think you will find that it isn't the same blood type as the victim. It might very well be animal blood. Carrying on. There was far too much blood on the third floor and the roof, and far too little on the ground outside around the body. Furthermore, if we were to believe he was a jumper why the blood at all? That amount of blood, you would assume the person would be bleeding out. So why jump?" Sherlock started pacing the room, seeming to forget anyone was even in the room with him. "Maybe, it's two different crimes meant to confuse. Maybe, the blood is from a different victim altogether. What. Is. Your. Game?"