~~~
John bends down to examine Jennifer Wilson's body. After a few seconds of examining it he sits up again and turns to Sherlock and Kat who are waiting expectantly. "Yeah. Asphyxiation probably. Passed out, choked on her own vomit. Can't smell any alcohol on her. It could have been a seizure. Possibly drugs." John rants.
"You know what it was, you've read the papers." Kat says almost offended that he would try to pass it off as any other cause of death.
"Well, she's one of the suicides. The fourth?"
"Sherlock, two minutes, I said. I need anything you've got." Greg informs Sherlock as he walks back into the room.
Sherlock sighs and reluctantly answers. "Victim is in her late 30s. Professional person, going by her clothes. I'm guessing the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink." With that last part Kat stifles a laugh again. "Traveled from Cardiff today, intending to stay in London for one night obvious from the size of her suitcase."
"Suitcase?" Lestrade asks.
"Suitcase, yes. She's been married at least ten years, but not happily. She's had a string of lovers, but none of them knew she was married."
"Oh, for God's sake, if you're just making this up-" Lestrade starts but Sherlock cuts him off.
"Her wedding ring. Ten years old at least. The rest of her jewelry has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State of her marriage right there. The inside is shinier than the outside, so it's regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It's not for work, look at her nails. Like Kat said, with those nails she doesn't work with her hands, so what, or rather who, does she remove her rings for? Not one lover, she'd never sustain the fiction of being single over that amount of time, so more likely a string of them. Simple."
"That's brilliant." John and Kat say at the same time.
"Sorry." John says when Greg and Sherlock turned to look at the two of them.
"I'm not sorry, that was bloody brilliant." Kat says honestly smiling at Sherlock.
"Thank you, Kat."
"Cardiff?" Lestrade asks trying to get everybody back on track.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" Sherlock rolls his eyes.
"It's not obvious to me." John cuts in.
"Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring." With that comment Kat doesn't even try to hold in her laughter. "Her coat. It's slightly damp, she's been in heavy rain in the last few hours, no rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp too. She's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her left hand pocket, but it's dry and unused. Not just wind, strong wind; too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight, so she must have come a decent distance, but she can't have traveled more than two or three hours, because her coat still hasn't dried. So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time? Cardiff." Sherlock finishes showing them the weather map he had pulled up on his phone.
"Amazing."
"That is just fantastic." Kat and John say at the same time again.
"Do you know you do that out loud?" Sherlock questions genuinely.
"Sorry, we'll shut up." Kat speaks for both of them.
"No, it's fine." Sherlock replies lightly.
"Why do you keep saying suitcase?" Greg asks.
"Yes, where is it? She must have had a phone or an organizer." Sherlock rambles walking around the room. "Find out who Rachel is."
"She was writing Rachel?" The detective questions incredulously.
"No, she was leaving an angry note in German!" Sherlock replies sarcastically. "Of course she was writing Rachel, no other word it can be. Question is, why did she wait until she was dying to write it?"
"How do you know she had a suitcase?"
"Back of her right leg, tiny splash marks on her right heel and calf not present on the left." He gestures to her feet. "She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand. Don't get that splash pattern any other way. Small-ish case, going by the spread. Case that size, woman this clothes-conscious, could only be an overnight bag so we know she was staying one night. Now where is it?" He looks up again. "What have you done with it?"
"There wasn't a case." Kat tells Sherlock gently.
"Say that again." He turns slowly pointing and looking at her.
"There wasn't a case. There was never any suitcase."
"Suitcase! Did anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?" Sherlock yells running out of the room and down the stairs.
"Sherlock, there was no case!" Greg says when he and Kat got out of the room and to the top of the stairs.
"But they take the poison themselves, they swallow the pills." Sherlock says turning to look at them. "There are clear signs, even you lot couldn't miss them."
"Right, thanks. And?" The detective asks agitated.
"It's murder, all of them. I don't know how. But they're not suicides, they're serial killings. We've got ourselves a serial killer. Love those. There's always something to look forward to." Sherlock says excitedly.
"Why are you saying that?" Kat questions.
"Her case! Come on, where is her case? Did she eat it? Someone else was here and they took her case."
"So your saying the killer must have driven here?" Kat asks. "Maybe forgot the case was in the car?"
"Excellent theory, Kat." Sherlock complements her.
"She could have checked into a hotel, left it there." Lestrade tries.
"No, she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair. She colour-coordinates her lipstick and shoes. She'd never have left any hotel with her hair still looking- Oh, Oh!"
"Sherlock? What is it, what?" Kat walks down stairs to where Sherlock is.
"Serial killers, always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake."
"We can't just wait!"
"Oh, we're done waiting. Look at her, really look!" Sherlock shouts. "Houston, we have a mistake. Get on to Cardiff. Find out who Jennifer Wilson's family and friends were. Find Rachel!" Sherlock runs down the rest of the stairs with Kat following closely behind.
"Of course, yeah, but what mistake?!" Greg yells down to him.
"Pink!" Sherlock yells then turns to Kat and says quietly so only she could hear. "Meet me at 221B Baker Street, hopefully I'll be there within the hour."
"Yeah, okay." Kat says quickly and then just like that, Sherlock had run off.
"Let's get on with it." Kat hears Greg says to the team.
Kat walks outside and pulls out her phone. She dials a number and puts the phone up to her ear.
"Hey, Mrs. Hudson. Hi, it's Kat. I know we talked about a few days, but am I able to move in today?"
~~~~~~~~~
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Kat Got Your Tongue? (Sherlock X OC) ~BOOK 1~
Fanfiction"The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!" ~~~ "Tax- ugh." Sherlock says getting cut off as another body runs into him, the other person falling to the ground. "Sorry." A female voice says as she sits up. "I'm so sorry, this was my fault, I was rushing to work...
