The afternoon went just as he had predicted. But better. John and Lestrade had taken a little longer than expected and the phone call came at 5pm. In the end Sherlock couldn't resist the case. And in the end the consulting detective found himself looking at a man who had scratched the letters JM into his own flesh with a blade from his own manual razor. He was found dead on his bathroom floor by his younger sister, who was still in shock. To Sherlock it was clear who J.M. was. Jim Moriarty.
Clearly this man had something to do with the criminals resurrection. Standing up he put his small magnifying glass away, back into his coat pocket. "He was strangled to death. But it was made to look as if he had slipped and hit his head on the edge of the bathtub, so no one would look for any forensics. Not that that would help. The killer left no fingerprints."
"How do you know that he was strangled to death?" Lestrade said rubbing his chin.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Inside your heads must be so boring. There is bruising around the neck in the shape of fingers."
"Ahhh..." The detective inspector smirked. "The only reason we're here is because of this man's new tattoos."
"Look at all of you, focusing on the wrong things. JM obviously is initials for our long lost consulting criminal. Jim Moriarty. But he didn't kill this man. He once told me he didn't like to get his hands dirty. So he obviously hired an assassin to rid the world of this man for him." Glancing at his watch Sherlock's eyes widened as he saw the time, before backing away towards the front door of the house. "I would love to help you but I have plans for tonight. Have fun thinking for yourselves for a change."
Turning on his heels Sherlock swept out of the building to find that the sky was darkening as night approached. Hailing a cab the detective got in "221b Baker Street."
He needed to change his scarf quickly if he wanted to get to the public pools on time. As the cab pulled away from the side walk Sherlock opened the small book he kept in his coat pocket and scribbled down some meaningless words to keep them ready if he ever needed to remember for tomorrow. As the cabbie pulled up to the apartments he told him to wait before getting out.
Scrambling for his dark blue scarf in his apartment Sherlock slipped it around his neck. Moving swiftly out of the front door John's hand gun safely tucked in the waist band of his jeans he got back in the cab before making his way to the pool.
Paying the cabbie Sherlock pushed open the pool gate before cautiously making his way inside. Checking his watch he saw the time was only 9:45pm, relaxing slightly Sherlock stood at the edge of the pool, hos hands clasped behind his back as he stared into the water.
"Hello Sherlock." a soft deadly sweet voice arose from one of the corners of the pool room. "I had a feeling that you'd be early. And guess what? So am I."
