Chapter Twelve: Password

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Sherlock spoke to Lestrade, cutting the awkward silence, "You need to bring Rachel in

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Sherlock spoke to Lestrade, cutting the awkward silence, "You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. we need to question her."

"She's dead." Lestrade deadpanned.

"Excellent!" The brothers say in sync.

John looked startled towards Sherlock and Lorenzo when they said those words together.

Sherlock continued, "How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be." he asked Greg frantically.

"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago." Greg informed him.

Lorenzo looked confused, "No, that's ... that's not right. How ... Why would she do that? Why?" he asked looking around.

"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments?" Anderson scoffed, "Yup - psychopath; I'm seeing it now." he said shaking his head, disturbed at the teenager.

Sherlock turned to Anderson with an exasperated look on his face, "She didn't think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt." He said agreeing with his brother and began to pace back and forth across the room again.

John cleared his throat, "You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well, maybe he ... I don't know, talks to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow." he spoke out loud.

"Yeah, but that was ages ago." Sherlock replied frowning.

"Why would she still be upset?" Lorenzo added looking even more confused.

John stared at them both in shock.

Sherlock hesitated as he realized that everyone in the flat had stopped what they're doing and had fallen silent looking at them both.

Sherlock glanced around the room and then looked awkwardly at John, "Not good?" he asked the doctor.

Lorenzo turned to his older brother, "It doesn't make sense Jennifer writing her daughter's name on the floor. She was clever... she had to, running all those lovers. She was trying to tell us something very important." he explained.

Sherlock snapped his fingers at the teenager, "Yes!" he shouted.

Fortunately, Mrs. Hudson came to the door of the living room, "Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Lorenzo, Sherlock." She said to them.

"We didn't order a taxi. Go away." Sherlock replied trying to think and pacing around the room.

Mrs. Hudson looked around, "Oh, dear. They're making such a mess. What are they looking for?" she asked.

"It's a drugs bust, Mrs. Hudson." John answered her question simply.

She looked anxiously, "But they're just for my hip. They're herbal soothers." the landlady tried to explain thinking they found her pills.

With his back to the door, Sherlock stopped and shouted out, "Shut up, everybody, shut up. Don't move, don't speak, don't breathe. I'm trying to think. Anderson, face the other way. You're putting me off."

"What? My face is?" Anderson asked in disbelief looking to Sherlock and lestrade.

"Everybody quiet and still!" The Inspector shouted, "Anderson, turn your back."

Anderson looked at him annoyed, "Oh, for God's sake." he said pissed.

"Your back, now, please!" Greg ordered sternly.

"Come on, think. Quick." Sherlock whispered furiously to himself, still pacing around the flat.

Mrs. Hudson asked quietly, "What about your taxi?"

"MRS. HUDSON!" Lorenzo shouted turning to her furiously, getting annoyed with the woman.

She turned and hurried away down the stairs, scared about what the teenager would do to her.

Sherlock smiled in delight, "Ah. She was clever, clever, yes." he walked across the room and then turned back to the others, "She's cleverer than you lot and she's dead. Do you see, do you get it? She didn't lose her phone, she never lost it. She planted it on him." he explained.

Lorenzo nodded understanding what Sherlock was saying, "When she got out of the car, she knew that she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer." he said.

"But how?" Greg asked confused, looking at them both, not understanding what is happening.

"Wha...? What do you mean, how?" The oldest Holmes asked staring at him. Lestrade just shrugged.

"Rachel!" Lorenzo shouted, looking at everyone triumphantly.

They all looked back at him blankly, "Don't you see? Rachel. Dear lord is Sherlock and I the only smart people?" he scoffed.

Still, everyone looked blank.

Sherlock laughed in disbelief, "Oh, look at you lot. You're all so vacant. Is it nice not being us? It must be so relaxing." he continued sternly, "Rachel is not a name."

"Then what is it?" John asked equally sternly, annoyed that he doesn't understand.

"John, on the luggage, there's a label. E-mail address." Sherlock pointed at the case.

John looked at the label on the suitcase and read out the address, "Er, jennie dot pink at mephone dot org dot uk."

Sherlock had sat down at the dining table and was looking at his computer notebook, "Oh, I've been too slow. She didn't have a laptop, which means she did her business on her phone, so it's a smartphone, it's e-mail enabled." he pulled up Mephone's website and typed the email address into the 'User name' box.

Lorenzo continued, "So there was a website for her account. The username is her e-mail address... And all together now, the password is?" the teenager trailed off towards the end.

"Rachel." John answered walking over to stand behind Sherlock and next to the youngest Holmes.

Anderson shrugged, "So we can read her e-mails. So what?" he said rolling his eyes, annoyed.

"Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the I.Q. of the whole street." The high functional snapped, "We can do much more than just read her e-mails. It's a smartphone, it's got GPS, which means if you lose it you can locate it online. She's leading us directly to the man who killed her." he explained more.

Lestrade tilted his head, "Unless he got rid of it." he theorises.

"We know he didn't." John pointed out looking at the inspector.

Sherlock looked at the screen impatiently, "Come on, come on. Quickly." he said.





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Lorenzo Holmes  | Sherlock BBCWhere stories live. Discover now