Sherlock: The Human Robot

2 - The Mystery with the Murdered Housewife

You woke up the next morning, took a shower and put on your bathrobe. It was 08.00 am in the morning so you turned up to watch the news while you made yourself a coffee. 

"...sad news. A woman was found dead in her home by the cleaning girl this morning. The woman's husband is at work, but he has been contacted by the police and is on his way back home. The dead woman's name is Abigail Wilson. The police..." 

You put down your coffee and went to your room to get dressed while you phoned John.

"Y/N, hi" John answered.

"Hi. Look, I was just wondering if Lestrade has phoned you or Sherlock about a dead woman?"

"Yes, he did. We're on our way there now. Do you want to come along as well?"

"If it's not too much trouble."

"No, not at all. I'm sure Sherlock would like you to come. He likes to impress you with his deductions," John chuckled.

"What?" You got a bit stunned about what he just said.

"Relax, it was a joke. Sherlock loves to show off to everyone."

You could feel that John had a smile on his face while he said this.

John gave you the address, so after you finished yourself, you locked the front door and got in a cab.

15 minutes later....
"Search the house and see if you can find anything that could be the murder weapon or lead us to the guilty person," Lestrade commanded and several people got to work, including Donovan. You approached Lestrade. "Ah, Y/N. Always nice to see you," he said. "Although the circumstances could've been better."
"Indeed..." you said in response as two people carried out the dead body on a stretcher with a sheet over it. You nodded towards them. "Any idea what happened to her?" you asked Lestrade. He stood still for a few seconds, trying to find the words.
"She was beaten to death with something hard against the back of her head," a familiar voice answered behind us. You both turned around to find no other than Sherlock and John. "And how long have you been sneaking around?" Lestrade asked Sherlock a bit irritated, as always. "Have you found the murder weapon yet, detective inspector?" Sherlock quickly asked back.
"Maybe this can give us a clue or two," Donovan said while walking towards us with something in her hand. It was a revolver covered in blood. "Good work, take it to scanning and see if there's any fingerprints," Lestrade told her. "Will do," she responded and disappeared.

"How long has she been dead?" you asked the three men standing around you. "Well, according to how long the blood has been there, I'd say around five hours. Which tells us she was murdered around six thirty this morning," John said.
"Where's the cleaning girl?" Sherlock asked. "I sent her home, she was pretty shaken and didn't know anything and. I believe her," Lestrade stated. Before Sherlock could say anything against it, a man approached. "Detective Inspector, the woman's husband has just arrived," he said. Lestrade thanked the man and told him to bring the husband, who now was a widower.

"What happened? Where's Abigail?" the husband wept. "Mr. Wilson, we're so sorry to tell you this but your wife... she was found on the floor, dead. I'm so sorry," Lestrade told him. "What? How?"
Lestrade sighed and was just about to speak but John took over. "It seems like she was murdered around five hours ago." The husband sank down onto the couch. "Oh my God, oh my God. No..." cried the husband and covered his face in his hands.

Sherlock's p.o.v.
The husband looked stressed out. I could see from the rings under his eyes that he hadn't slept much during the night, and jugging by his clothes, he was in a hurry this morning. "Mr. Wilson when did you leave the house this morning?" Sherlock asked. Mr. Wilson dried his tears and looked on the floor while answering. "Around six."
"We can't find any fingerprints on the gun," Donovan came in and told us. "We'll take it to the lab for further investigation." Lestrade nodded in response. I looked again at the broken-hearted husband. His eyes narrowed and his voice trembled in anger when he heard about the revolver. He tried to say something, but his voice broke. Having cleaned his throat a couple of times he looked at us and said in a voice that trembled: "Please find whoever slew Abigail! If you think it can help I set happily up with a reward. I give 10,000 to whoever might have information that causes the swine will be taken ".
I looked still at the man and a little grin appeared on my face. "The money you can safely spare," I said. "This killer is probably not as hard to nab". I said and walked outside the house, everyone following.

Your p.o.v.
"And why is that, Sherlock?" Lestrade asked. "When her husband learned of his revolver and asked us to find the one who had slain his wife I realized that it had to be himself who was behind it. No one had told him that his wife was slain, and the only one who knew this is us, and the killer."
"That makes sense," you told them and Sherlock looked over to Lestrade and raised his eyebrow. "But why would the man murder his own wife?" John inquired. "For the money. Mrs. Wilson had a bank account, which her husband didn't have access to. The money she has on it was given to her by her father some years ago, and if she died, the money would go to her closest. In this case her husband. There now, go and arrest this man, inspector, that's what you do best." And with that Sherlock left and walked down the street, followed by you and John. 

"Amazing as always," you said. "But though how did you know about the money? you asked. "By observing the things that everyone else seems to miss," he responded. You smiled at him. "What are you up to now then, for the rest of the day?" 

"I'm going to St. Bart's. I need to experiment something," Sherlock answered. 

"And I am going to meet Mary and go out for dinner. See you later," John said and crossed the street. 

Sherlock stopped a cab coming our way. He opened the door and looked back at you. "Care to join me, Y/N?" he asked. "I din't have any other plans," you answered and got in the cab while Sherlock held the door and got in after you. "St. Bart's Hospital," he said to the driver. 

Molly had left London to be with her family this Christmas, and since it was late afternoon, you and Sherlock were the only ones there. While Sherlock was working, you watched him as his eyes kept looking down the microscope and his hands slowly adjusting it so he could see the item better. It was like watching live art when he did experiments. Never have you seen anyone so caught up in their work. After you both had been there for two and a half hour, you noticed it began to get a little late, and you were hungry.

"Sherlock?" you said, but didn't get a response. "Sherlock?" you said again, higher this time.
He snapped away from the microscope and looked at you for a brief second before looking back into his work. "Y/N. You're still here. Pass me one test tube, please," he said and reached out one arm to show the direction where the tube was. You sighed but did as he commanded. "Do you have much left? It's starting to get late, and I'm-", you started, but you stomach finished your sentence as it rumbled."

"There you go," you said while handing Sherlock the test tube. You looked at him. "Sherlock?"
"Hm?"
"When are you done?"
"If you're hungry, there's nothing stopping you from going, Y/N," he responded to you, still working. "I might stay a while longer anyway."
"Alright, I'll see you later then," you said and walked towards the door, looking one last time at Sherlock who just gave you a 'hm' in response.