Chapter Four: Serial Suicides

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Mrs. Hudson came out of the kitchen reading the newspaper, "What about these suicides then, Boys? I thought that'd be right up your street. Three exactly the same."

"Four." Lorenzo said out loud from the window; which caught Sherlock's attention, "There's been a fourth and there's something different this time." He said and turned to his adopted brother.

They all turned their heads, seeing Lestrade walking in, "Where?" Sherlock asked straight away.

"Brixton. Lauriston Gardens." Lestrade replied.

Lorenzo leaned on the desk, crossing my arms, "What's different about this one?" he asked, "You wouldn't have come to get us if there wasn't something new."

"You know how they leave notes?" Lestrade said, Sherlock and Lorenzo both nodded, "This one did. Will you come with me?"

Sherlock just looks at him, Tempted and now interested, "Who's on Forensics?" Sherlock asked.

"Anderson." Lestrade replied.

"Anderson won't work with Us." Sherlock said.

"He won't be your assistant." Lestrade tries to reason.

"But we need an assistant." Sherlock said, glancing over at Lorenzo who looked annoyed.

"Will you come then?" Lestrade asked hopefully.

"Not in a police car. We'll be right behind you." Sherlock said.

"Thank you." Lestrade simply replied and left the flat.

Sherlock waited until he had reached the front door, then leaped into the air and clenched his fists triumphantly before twirling around the room happily, "Brilliant. Yes. Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note. Oh, it's Christmas!" he grabbed Lorenzo by his arms shaking him, "The serial killer may have made a mistake this time. you amplify the profile?" he asked happily.

"Definitely. I'll give you the complete life of the serial killer by just looking at the victim." The youngest Holmes nodded with a laugh which made Sherlock jump excitedly.

He picked up his scarf and coat and started to put them on while heading for the kitchen, "Mrs. Hudson, We'll be late. Might need some food."

"I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper." Mrs. Hudson replied.

Lorenzo then shouted, "Something cold will do. John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up." he said grabbing his coat.

Grabbing a small leather pouch from the kitchen table, Lorenzo opened the door and disappeared.

Mrs. Hudson turned back to John, "Look at them, dashing about. My husband was just the same. But you're more the sitting-down type, I can tell," John looked uncomfortable, "I'll make you that cuppa. You rest your leg."

"Damn my leg!" John swore loudly. His response was instinctive and he was immediately apologetic even as Mrs. Hudson turned back to him in shock, "Sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just sometimes this bloody thing ..." he touched his leg with his cane.

Mrs. Hudson nodded, "I understand, dear; I've got a hip." she turned towards the door again.

"Cup of tea'd be lovely, thank you." John called.

"Just this once, dear. I'm not your housekeeper." she replied.

John added, "Couple of biscuits too, if you've got 'em".

"Not your housekeeper!" Mrs. Hudson sang.

John had picked up the newspaper which Mrs. Hudson put down and now he looked at the article reporting Beth Davenport's apparent suicide.

Next to a large photograph of Beth was a smaller one showing the man who just visited the flat and identifying him as D.I. Lestrade. Before he could read on, Sherlock's voice interrupted him and John looked up and saw him and the younger boy standing at the living room door.

"You're a doctor. In fact, you're an Army doctor." Sherlock stated.

John nodded, "Yes." He got to his feet and turned towards the Holmes brothers as he came back into the room again.

"Any good?" Lorenzo questioned him with a raised eyebrow.

"Very good." John replied.

Sherlock then added, "Seen a lot of injuries, then; violent deaths."

John hummed, "Mmm, yes."

"Bit of trouble too, I bet." Lorenzo said with a smirk.

"Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much." John said quietly.

Sherlock smirked, "Wanna see some more?" he asked already knowing the answer.

John said fervently, "Oh God, yes."

Sherlock and Lorenzo turned on their heel and leaded John out of the room and down the stairs.

John called out as he followed him down, "Sorry, Mrs. Hudson, I'll skip the tea. Off out."

Mrs. Hudson then asked, "All of you?"

Sherlock had almost reached the front door but now turned and walked back towards her, "Impossible suicides? Four of them? There's no point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on." he took her by the shoulders and kissed her noisily on the cheek.

Mrs. Hudson smiled, "Look at you both, all happy. It's not decent." she said looking at the brothers.

"Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on." Lorenzo said as the trio walked out of the building.


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