Star-Blessed Kisses || BBC Sherlock

Chapter 11

"He found out. Get him out of the way, he might talk!" The voice on the phone said. Soon after, she received a picture of the young man.

She closed her eyes. Not him.

"Do you understand?" The voice asked. "Yes." Bridget said. "Don't wait too long!" The voice continued, "His name is...".

-

..."Killian Morgen, twenty seven." Lestrade told Sherlock and Kathleen. A young man's body laid in front of them.

Sherlock kneeled down and looked at him. On his chest were three bloodspots. "He got shot three times in his chest. Cause of death obviously." Sherlock deduced. Kathleen stepped next to him and put on some gloves. He looked up to her. "What do you think?" He asked. "Well one of the bullets went straight in his heart. He probably is death for a few hours but definitely not longer. The blood around the wounds is already dried but if you look directly you see that the flesh inside is slightly bleeding when you press on it." She said and pressed on the wound.

She was right, a small amount of blood came out of the wound. "Not much but still says the murder happened not long ago." He said admitting.

He looked at the clothes. "The murderer made a mistake." He said noticing. "The clothes right?" She asked. "Yes. Look at them. These is the uniform of the Regency Café. There are the brown, yellow stripes at the sleeves. There should have been a name tag but it's gone." He said an pointed at a small hole on the left upper side of the shirt.

"Someone ripped it off, in hurry I presume." Kathleen said. He stood up and removed his gloves.

"Had he anything with him phone, wallet or something?" He asked Lestrade. "There are his things." He said and gave him a plastic bag with a wallet and keys in it.

"No phone?" He asked. Lestrade shook his head. Sherlock looked at the wallet. Not much money, an old photograph and a few cards.

He looked at the photo. It showed him with a women. She kissed his cheek while he smiled with the brightest smile at the camera. One of the cards was a university card, on the back was his name, class and a number.

He was a student. It was only a side job.

"He didn't worked long at the café.". He turned to Lestrade.

"What?" He asked confused.

"Look at his wrists and hands. He wrote down the different coffee brands and the ingredients. He was new and didn't want to mess up." He explained and showed him the boys hands. "Who examined him first, Anderson?" He said with a undertone. "It's nearly impossible to miss this." He added condescendingly.

Lestrade left out an outraged sigh. "Anything else?".

"Nope that's it for now. Have you send someone to the Café?" Sherlock said.

"Already done yes." Lestrade nodded in confirmation. "Great, we need to go." Sherlock said, grabbed Kathleen's hands and dragged her off the crime scene.

In the taxi Sherlock drummed his fingers nervous on his knee. "What is it?" Kathleen asked concerned. "I have missed something. If I should be right, his death was unnecessary." He said and with the back of his hand he wiped over his lips. His hand subconsciously closed into a fist, the hard ridges of his nails biting into the soft skin of his palm.

"Hey." Kathleen said and took his hand, opened it and enclosed her fingers with his. "It isn't you fault either way." She tried to calm him down.

He squeezed her hand "Maybe you're right.".

Back at the flat he immediately went to her laptop and opened his emails. He searched after a specific email. Her hand rested on his shoulder while he scrolled further down. Suddenly he stopped and she felt his body tense as he clicked on the mail.