A New Mystery at 221 Baker Street

Chapter 12: A Slight Outburst

Note: Transcript provided by Ariane DeVere/ Callie Sullivan

***

Connie Prince's body sat out on a table in the morgue at Bart's Hospital. A sheet covered the bottom half of her body. Lestrade read her file out loud for the trio to hear. "Connie Prince: 54. She had one of those make-over shows on the telly. She was very popular, said to be going places,"

"Not anymore," Sherlock said as Alice was busy taking a closer look at the dead body. "So, she's been dead for two days. According to one of her staff members, Raoul de Santos, she had cut her hand on a rusty nail in the garden- highly improbable. There has to be something more,"

Alice walked around the dead body before taking a closer inspection at the deep cut in the webbing between Connie's right thumb and index finger. "Sherlock, can you lend me your magnifier?" She held out her hand, waiting for Sherlock to do as he was instructed. Sherlock obliged and placed his trusty tool in her palm. Alice looked at the cut through the lens for only a few seconds before coming to a conclusion. "Connie's death was not caused by the cut on her hand. She died of a different cause. There are several small scratches on her upper arm, claw marks that are most likely from a cat. Then the tiny pinpricks on her forehead- botox injections,"

"Why are you taking those into consideration?" Lestrade asked, trying to follow Alice's lead.

"Look at the supposed cause of her death," Alice pointed to Connie Prince's right hand "The cut is deep; she would have bled a lot, yes? Take a closer observation, the wound is clean- too clean and too fresh. John, how long would the bacteria be incubating inside her?"

John thought about it for a second. "About eight to ten days,"

"Exactly! So the cut had to have been made after she died. The real mystery: how did tetanus enter the dead woman's system- if that is how she really died?"

"You want to help, right?" Sherlock asked, turning to his flatmate, "Look up Connie Prince's background: family history, everything. We need data," John nodded, and both left the room.

"There is something else we haven't thought of," Lestrade said to Alice.

"Yes, why is our bomber doing this?"

"If this woman's death was suspicious, why point it out?"

"My best guess, our bomber was involved with each of them in some way and is playing a game of cat and mouse with Sherlock,"

"Alice, this is serious. I'm trusting both of you, but, out there somewhere, some poor bastard's covered in semtex and is just waiting for you two to solve the puzzle,"

"You think I don't know that!" Alice exclaimed, losing control of herself for a minute before taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry for yelling at you, Greg. It has never been my intention to be a part of all this. I merely came to London to have some time to myself and enjoy a simple vacation,"

"And your simple vacation included teaming up with Sherlock?"

"I didn't expect to join him and John. I don't mind it though,"

"Have you had expience in the crime-solving field before? You seem really experienced and knowledgable for someone who had just joined Sherlock and John only a few weeks ago,"

"I have a backround in criminalistics, among other things," Alice replied, before pulling out her phone and exiting the morgue.

"Interesting,"

**** EIGHT HOURS TO GO ****

John and Alice stood in Connie Pince's house, interviewing her brother Kenny."We're devastated, of course, we are," Kenny stated. Raoul offered both John and Alice beverages before leaving and smiling at Kenny. "Raoul is my rock. I don't think I could have managed without him." Kenny looked down sadly "We didn't always see eye to eye, but my sister was very dear to me." A cat then proceeded to climb onto Alice's lap, meowing in protest as she placed it back on the ground.