Against the Odds

Chapter 10: Loose Ends

Lestrade called them to the south bank of the River Thames where the police had found a body. As they arrived, Lestrade called to Sherlock: "D'you reckon this is connected, then? The bomber?"

Sherlock finished pulling on his latex gloves that they were all forced to wear by the forensics team. Sherlock replied to Lestrade: "Must be. Odd, though..." he held up the phone, "he hasn't been in touch." Lestrade sighed as he murmured: "But we must assume that some poor bugger's primed to explode, yeah?"

Sherlock replied shortly: "Yes." He stepped back to examine the dead man, dressed in a standard white work shirt and pants. Rose examined the body from a closer angle as Lestrade asked: "Any ideas?" Sherlock replied: "Seven ... so far."

"Seven?" Lestrade asked incredulously but Sherlock was focused now. Rose also looked at the man carefully, noting the ripped front pocket on the shirt, the ill-fitting clothes, and as Sherlock examined the feet, she glanced at them too, noting the hard callouses and thick veins in the man's calves. She looked at the man's face and noted the bruising pattern and paused.

Sherlock backed away, and nodded for John to examine the body. John looked to Lestrade for permission, which the DI readily granted. John knelt down to examine the body medically while Sherlock removed his gloves and began to search something on his phone.

John began: "He's dead about twenty-four hours. Maybe a bit longer." He asked Lestrade: "Did he drown?" Lestrade replied while Sherlock continued to search on his phone: "Apparently not. Not enough of the Thames in his lungs. Asphyxiated." John nodded as he murmured: "Yes, I'd agree."

John continued: "There's quite a bit of bruising around the nose and mouth. More bruises here and here." He pointed them out on the side of the man's head. Sherlock muttered thoughtfully: "Fingertips." John began to stand up as he finished: "In his late thirties, I'd say. Not in the best condition."

Sherlock said seriously as he finished with his search: "He's been in the river a long while. The water's destroyed most of the data." He quirked a grin as he added: "But I'll tell you one thing," he looked at them "that lost Vermeer painting's a fake." Rose nodded thoughtfully while John looked surprised.

"What?" Lestrade asked and Sherlock continued, ignoring him: "We need to identify the corpse. Find out about his friends and associates..." Lestrade stopped him as he demanded: "Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait. What painting? What are you, what are you on about?"

Sherlock said as though it was obvious- which it was to him and Rose: "It's all over the place. Haven't you seen the posters? Dutch Old Master, supposed to have been destroyed centuries ago; now it's turned up. Worth thirty million pounds."

Lestrade asked: "Okay. So what has that got to do with the stiff?" Sherlock grinned as he replied: "Everything. Have you ever heard of the Golem?" Rose stiffened just slightly. None of them noticed as Lestrade asked confused: "Golem?" John piped up: "It's a horror story, isn't it? What are you saying?"

Sherlock explained: "Jewish folk story. A gigantic man made of clay. It's also the name of an assassin, real name Oskar Dzundza, one of the deadliest assassins in the world." He pointed at the dead man as he told them: "That is his trademark style."

"So this is a hit?" Lestrade asked incredulously and Sherlock nodded as he confirmed: "Definitely. The Golem squeezes the life out of his victims with his bare hands." Lestrade said confused: "But what has this gotta do with that painting? I don't see..." Sherlock snapped in exasperation: "You do see – you just don't observe."

"Sherlock." Rose said quietly and John snapped at the two men: "Alright, alright, girls, calm down." He looked at Sherlock, nodding at the body as he said: "Sherlock? D'you wanna take us through it?" Sherlock paused before he began.