Chapter 1

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The bitter, cold wind stung at Sherlock's slightly chapped lips as he came up to door of 221B Baker Street. He opened the door and was welcomed by a bombarding of warm air; unfortunately he couldn't enjoy the warmth for long. Sherlock stormed up the stairs to his and John's flat, knocking loudly and calling for him. He couldn't be bothered with actually going in for he had a case to solve. Closely after that, his shorter companion came out the door wearing a jacket and shoes, clearly knowing that he was about to help Sherlock with a case.

The two men stepped out of their flat and hailed a taxi to head to the morgue. Sherlock had to exam a body and he always enjoyed it when John was with him giving a second opinion. He didn't always agree with the statements Molly made about the body, for sometimes she had no clue what was happening, which caused him to prefer John's insights.


John and Sherlock sat in the taxi on their way home. He had basically solved the case within five minutes of being there.

"Sherlock?" John inquired, "How did you know it wasn't a suicide but rather a homicide disguised to look as such?"

"The answer is Extremely simple. Lestrade said the victim was holding the gun with their right hand correct?" Sherlock simply asked but didn't wait for his partner to answer, he continued on, "Yes, but that would make no sense would it? Do you know why? Of course you don't. Well there were graphite smudges and pen ink on her left hand, meaning she was left handed. So she wouldn't kill herself with her right hand. I'll leave it up to the yard to find out who killed her, which was her private driver."

John stared at Sherlock in shock. He had seen him do this before, but frankly every time he did, he thought it was completely and utterly amazing. It astounded him, how could one person's mind work like that, so quickly, even with such complex things such as figuring out a person's life story, or even a murder.

"But Sherlock, how do you know it was her driver? How could you figure that out just from a dead woman's corpse and very little evidence?" John asked eager to find out, as there was very little evidence and really had how no clue how he figured it out.

"Now John was it not obvious? The woman was found dead in her car in the driver's seat. The seat did not fit nicely to her height and shape, meaning she had a driver. Anyone who knew her could have told us that of course, but they didn't think to mention it. The only people with access to the car would be her and her driver. I highly doubt that if she were looking to kill herself, she would have gone to the trouble of going to the car and getting dressed up as if she were going out somewhere. So the only explanation, it was the driver, simple." Sherlock stated as if it was the same as adding one plus one, ever so carelessly.

John didn't get it in the slightest and perhaps that was a good thing; his taller companion was really quite confusing.

The Taxi arrived outside their apartment building and they got out, opening the door to the apartments and climbing the stairs to their flat where it seemed Mrs. Hudson had prepared some tea for them,the smell wafting through the door.


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