Never Ending Game*A Sherlock, Moriarty fan fic*

CH. 6

CH. 6
SHERLOCK


We were heading towards the scene of the fourth serial suicide victim and it was clear John wanted to question me. For a few seconds I remained silent trying to entertain myself on my cellular phone but grew impatient. If he was going to question me he should do it already sighing slightly I spoke, “Okay you got questions.”

He looked out the window before meeting my eyes “Yeah where are we going?”

That one was an easy one I thought but I was aware that it wasn’t even close to his only question so I answered while letting him know that I was aware he wasn’t finished. “Crime scene next…”

He glanced at me some genuine curiosity in his eyes. “Who are you? What do you do?”

It was obvious this was his real question but I didn’t want to answer it without first seeing what he believed I was. He had already witnessed the police coming to me for help surely he had some idea of what I was. An outsider’s opinion on me would be interesting. “What do you think?” I asked doing my best to not sound curious in any way. All he had to know was that I planned on answering him. Letting him know I was curious was not something I was about to do.

A thoughtful look spread across his face as he glanced out the window to speak. He seemed to think better while looking out of the window. “I would say private detective…”

“But …?” I asked, well stated really. It was clear from the way he said it that he didn’t really believe I was a private detective. Of course I wasn’t a private detective but hearing why he figured out I wasn’t a private detective would be interesting.

He looked at me as he spoke a bit of confusion lacing his voice, “Police don’t go to private detectives.”

There it was I thought smiling inside. Looking ahead out of the front window I answered his question finally. “I’m a consulting detective, the only one in the world. I invented the job”

Blinking his eyes in confusion John spoke again, “What does that mean?”

Breathing I explained, “Means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me.” Yes, the police, and everybody seemed to be small minded and limited in thought. Things always had to be in neat categories for them, no puzzles, and no confusion. Sadly for them life was not like that, and of course happily for me.

John shook his head in disbelief. “Police don’t consult ammeters.” He pointed out aggravating me a bit. I most certainly was not an ammeter. Even the idea of him mistaking me for one was slightly offensive.

Glancing back towards the front window I decided to prove that I was by no means an ammeter. “When I met you for the first time yesterday I said Afghanistan or Iraq. You look surprised.”

“Yes, how did you know?” He inquired. Yes, of course he had been wondering that I thought to myself before quickly answering him.

“I didn’t know I saw. Haircut, the way you hold you hold yourself said military. And your conversation as you entered the room said trained at bar your face is tan but no tan above the wrist you have been abroad but not sunbathing. Limp’s really bad when you walk but you don’t ask for a chair when you stand like you’ve forgotten about it…The original circumstances of it were traumatic which mean wounded in action sometime Afghanistan or Iraq” I recited quickly my thoughts almost mirroring the words coming out of my mouth which was indeed rare for me. It was easy enough, simple even to deduce that much.

“You said I had a therapist?” He said still not sure how I had come up with all of this information on him.

“With a slightly traumatic limp of course you’ve got a therapist.” I exclaimed surprised he didn’t realize how I came to that conclusion. It was too obvious, even people of average intelligence like him should be able to understand how I came to that conclusion.

I was by no means finished. It excited me sharing what I had discovered. Most of the time I was not awarded the opportunity to show people what I had discovered about them. In fact I analyzed everyone but only explained 1/100th of what I had seen. “Then there is your brother your phone is expensive email, labeled, MP3 player. When you are looking for a flat share you wouldn’t waste money on this it’s a gift then. Scratches, not one many other times had been in the same pocket as keys and coins. Not many people would treat a phone they buy like this so it’s had a previous owner. The next bit is easy you know it already.” Yes, I was enjoying this my thoughts running almost equally with the words I hurriedly spoke.

“The engraving” John breathed actually understanding it this time well, at least he could grasp something that simple then I thought a little less disappointed in him.

Smiling to myself I continued, “Harry Watson, clearly family member who has given you his old phone, not your father, this is a young man’s gadget. Could be a cousin but you are a war hero who can’t find a place to live. Unlikely you’ve got an extended family certainly not one your close to. So brother it is, so Clara who’s Clara? The attachment and expense of the phone says wife not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently this phone is only six months old. Now the trouble than six months old and he is just giving it away. If she’d left him he would have kept it for sentimental reasons but he wanted to get rid of it that meant he left her. He gave the phone to you meaning he wants you to stay in touch. You are looking for cheap accommodation and you are not going to your brother for help? Says you got problems with him says maybe you liked his wife but you’ve got problems with his drinking. “ I finished this time actually relating to him my thoughts on the matter. Thinking aloud, it really helped me at times, this time though it was only an explanation not something I was actually finding a difficult time solving.

John breathed while slowly speaking confusion still in his voice but not as dominant as it was before. “How could you possibly know about the drinking?”

I smirked. “Shot in the dark good one though power connection tells you the scuff marks on it. Every night he goes to plug it in but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a drunken man’s phone you never see a drunks without them. There you go seems you were right.” It was simple really when you thought about it. I had seen plenty of phones, and so far this is what I had come to discover.

“I was right, right about what? “ He asked confused.

“The police don’t consult ammeters.” I spoke my pride finally coming to a rest. Yes, I was definitely not an ammeter.

“That was amazing.” He stated in awe. An odd reaction, but definitely one that pleased me.

“You think so? “ I questioned with a smile.

“Of course it was, extraordinary, quite extraordinary.” His voice was sincere. The compliment surprised me and made me smile. Is reaction was different, very different from most people’s but definitely more enjoyable.

“That’s not what people normally say.” I informed him.

“What do people normally say?” He asked only slightly curious.

“Piss off.” I finished with a slight smile playing at the corner of my mouth. John beamed as he shook his head slightly going back to looking out of the window.

“Did I get anything wrong?” I asked waiting for a point where I was incorrect. My deductions could only be so accurate and I always seemed to be incorrect on one point.

As he limped forward with the help of his cane he spoke. “Harry and me don’t get along, never have. Clara and Harry split up three months ago they are getting a divorce. Harry is a drinker…”

Smiling to myself I was elated. For once it seemed I had gotten everything correct. “Spot on then I didn’t expect to be right about everything.”

“Harry is short for Harriet “ John interrupted causing me to stop my mental celebration.

“Harry is you sister?” I asked although it wasn’t really a question.

“What am I supposed to be doing here?” John asked but that wasn’t what I was thinking about at the moment.

“Your sister!” I hissed irritated at myself. I always got something wrong. How had it been this wrong?

“No seriously…” John began again.

“Always something” I complained in a not so pleasant mood.

Sally Donovan’s voice interrupted my thoughts as I walked up to the yellow caution tape. “Hello freak” She spouted in her usual greeting.

“I am here to see Inspector detective Lestrade” I informed her.

“Why?” She asked snappily although she already knew exactly why.

“I was invited.” I informed her

“Why?” She repeated as if the question would make it so that she could prevent me from entering the scene.

“I think he wants me to take a look” I explained as if I was speaking to a small child which she pretty much was. Probably slower than a kindergartener with the way she thought.

Her face scrunched up into a look of disgust as she spoke her voice nasally, “Well you know what I think”

“Always Sally, even though you didn’t make it home last night.” I returned looking at her with a slight bit of confusion as I ducked under the yellow tape. Deodorant, the deodorant she was wearing was belonging to a male. She was unmarried and so far unable to get a boyfriend.

“Well, who’s this?” Sally asked confused yet still quite rude which was common for her. In fact it was probably why she had been so far unable to settle down. No one wanted to listen to an idiot’s constant rudeness.

“Colleague of mine Doctor Watson, Doctor Watson Sergeant Sally Donovan” I hurriedly greeted still using a bit of manners that stood out in comparison to Miss Donovan's lack of using them.

A mocking smile spread across her face as she looked up at me. “A colleague, how do you get a colleague?” She looked at John before asking, “What did he follow you home?

John looked slightly uncomfortable and seemed as if he considered it intruding to follow. “Wouldn’t it be better if I just waited?”

“Nope,” I replied quickly lifting up the caution tape for his to follow. Hesitantly he ducked a bit to come through and followed as I started towards the entrance.

Sally grabbed her radio and alerted everyone of my arrival, “Freak’s here bringing him in.”

Seeing Anderson I almost wished I could move to avoid him. Anytime spent in his presence felt as if it was lowering my intelligence. Sadly of course he stood right at the entrance so I had to confront him. “Oh, Anderson, here we are again.” I greeted lightly.

He looked at me his nose automatically scrunching up and his talent of speaking through his nose was most definitely still in use, “It’s a crime scene I don’t want it contaminated are we clear on that?” He asked as if he was superior to me in some way. Really it was quite pathetic.

He smelled, yes, the deodorant…“Quite clear, and is your wife away for long?” I asked.

 “Oh don’t pretend you’ve worked that out somebody told you that.” Anderson accused as if he had discovered the hidden secret to my knowledge.

“Your deodorant told me that.” I quickly stated fighting the urge to roll my eyes at him. I didn’t need someone to tell me something so obvious. Anyone could smell. 

“My deodorant?” He asked still not getting what I was talking about. Really he showed the limit of his mind with every word he spoke. He really needed to learn to shut his mouth and maybe, just maybe he might manage to fool people into thinking he actually had some intelligence.

“It’s for men,” I explained simply.

“Well of course it’s for men I am wearing it.” Anderson spoke as if I was the idiot here. Why was he unable to understand I wondered in amazement? Yes, the only thing that ever amazed me about Anderson was his stupidity. Most people had a limit…his seemed endless.

“So is Sergeant Donovan.” I finally said. Maybe he would understand that. Him and Donovan exchanged looks. “ohh I think it just vaporized…”

“Now look what ever you are trying to imply…” Anderson began as if he could cover it up.

Cutting him off I reassured him as I passed them both heading inside. “I am not trying to imply anything I am sure Sally just came round for a nice little chat and just happened to stay over and look she scrubbed your floors judging by the state of her knees.” On a table close to the entrance Lestrade was zipping up his protective suit that would prevent any polluting of the crime scene. Tossing John a spare on lying on the table I informed him. “You should wear one of these.”

“Who is this?” Detective Lestrade asked looking at John in confusion.

“He is with me.” I replied letting him know it was okay.

“But who is he?” Lestrade continued.

“I said he is with me” I returned growing impatient.

“Aren’t you going to put one on?” John asked me after getting his suit on. No, I mentally answered. I never wore them, they looked odd, and didn’t fit my position.

“So where are we?” I asked Lestrade looking up at the multiple winding stair cases.

“Upstairs, I can give you two minutes” Lestrade answered as we began the long walk up the multiple flights.

Two minutes I thought to myself. Depending on the case I figured I might need a bit more time. “I may need longer.” I admitted.

“Her name’s Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards, hasn’t been here long, some kids found her.” Lestrade briefed me on what they knew so far. As always it was pretty much nothing.

Silently I examined the room. I could feel Lestrade thinking a bit behind me…he was inaccurate, he nearly always was, “Shut up”

“I didn’t say anything” Lestrade frowned confused at my seemingly sudden command.

You were thinking it’s annoying.  “I informed him and only barely noticed him exchanging looks of exasperation with John. Her hand closest to the scratched out words was her left…left handed then. My eyes scanned the letters on the wooden floor. R.A.C.H.E…could be German for revenge…but, the positioning of her hand showed she wasn’t finished. It was Rachel. Coat was wet. Umbrella dry, under her collar was wet. All of her jewelry but her wedding ring was clean so she was unhappily married judging by the look of it for 10+ years. The inside was clean so it was regularly removed, serial adulterer.  

“Got anything?” Lestrade asked

“Not much.” I informed him, not enough at least. I pulled off my gloves and started reaching for my phone. Anderson’s irritating voice broke through my thoughts.

“She’s German, Rache , German for revenge she could be trying to tell us something.” Anderson defined trying to show off his knowledge in the most pathetic of ways. Incorrect Anderson I thought moving to the door where he stood just outside of the doorway.

“Yes thank you for your impute” I stated dismissively slamming the door neatly shut to block out the idiot’s impute.

“So she’s German?” Lestrade asked ready to believe even the idiot Anderson.

Doing a quick search on my phone for a place with heavy rain storms near here I found that there was only one fitting the exact type that her clothing suggested she had been in. “Of course not she is from out of town though intending to stay in London for one night before returning to Cardiff so far so obvious.” I corrected.

“I’m sorry obvious?” John asked stunned.

“What about the message?” Detective Lestrade asked.

“John what do you think?” I asked wanting someone else’s input, someone besides Anderson who was automatically incorrect with every assumption.

“About the message?” John asked looking back at the closed door.

Mentally rolling my eyes I corrected him, “About the body you’re a medical doctor.”

“But wait we have a whole team outside” Lestrade reminded me motioning towards the door obviously not happy that I was disregarding the whole lot of them and consulting a complete stranger to him although he should already have seen him back at the flat. Introducing him when he should already know who he was irritated me so I had skipped it.

“They won’t work with me” I pointed out. Lestrade already knew what I thought of them so no further explanation was needed.

Sighing he exclaimed “,I am breaking every rule letting you in here!” Yes, he still cared about following protocol but with the idiots aboard his team it was impossible to rely on them. 

 “Yes because you need me.” I interrupted.

He looked at me for a second before caving, “Yes I do, god help me.”

“Dr. Watson.” I motioned towards him. Feedback time I thought to myself. A doctor’s opinion on the matter might prove to be helpful in coming up with more and one who already seemed quite a bit more intelligent than this lot should definitely prove to be more beneficial. Other people’s opinions helped me think if they were intelligent enough.

John glanced at Lestrade for permission which he was given. “Oh do what he says help yourself.” He I gave in before hollering down to Anderson outside of the room, “Anderson keep everyone out for a few minutes. “

“Well?” I asked awaiting his analysis.

John looked slightly annoyed as he leaned his arm on his leg kneeling halfway next to the body. “What am I doing here?” He asked.

“Helping make a point” I explained simply. It should have been obvious enough. People rarely asked the opinion of others unless they wanted something out of it.

“I am supposed to help me pay the rent.” He reminded me irritably.

“Yes, but this is more fun” I announced with a smile. I loved the more puzzling crimes and this one was definitely one of them. It gave my mind something to think about, kept me from being bored.

“Fun?” John whispered “, there is a woman lying on the floor dead.” He tried.

Pursing my lips in disappointment I spoke. “Perfectly sound analysis but I was hoping you would go a little deeper.” He was correct but anybody could have told me that…Even Anderson.

“Disfixation in the lungs passed out chocked on her own vomit can’t smell any alcohol in her could have been a seizure possibly a…drug" He trailed off.

“You know what it was you read the paper.” I revealed letting him know exactly what this case was. It seemed he was unaware although he should have picked that up from what Mrs. Hudson said back at the flat.

“She is one of the suicides” He stated numbly.

Lestrade seemed to be at an end of his patience. “Sherlock two minutes I said and that’s the only thing you got?”

Sighing I began reciting what I had come up with. “Victim is in her late thirties, professional person going by her clothes and guessing something in the media going by her frankly alarming shade of pink. Traveled from Cardiff today and planning on only staying one night it is obvious from the size of her suitcase.”

“Suitcase?” Lestrade questioned his brow scrunched up.

Yes she had a suitcase, she was traveling and she had certain splash marks on the back of her tights. “Suitcase yes, she has been married for at least ten years but not happily she has had a string of lovers but none of them knew she was married.” I continued explaining.

“Oh for god’s sake you’re just making this up” Lestrade accused with a large amused smile on his face as he stood in his blue protective clothing arms folded over his chest.

Making it up I thought to myself, as if. Explaining how I had come to the conclusions seemed to be necessary yet again. “Her wedding ring ten years old at least. All her jewelry has been regularly cleaned but not her wedding ring state of her marriage right there. The inside of her ring is shiny but not the outside that means it is regularly removed the only polishing it gets is when she works it off of her finger. It is not for work judging by her nails she doesn’t work with her hands then what or rather who does she remove it for? Clearly not one lover she would never maintain the depiction of being single for that amount of time so more likely a string of them.”

“That’s brilliant,” John breathed in absolute amazement. Glancing at Lestrade he apologized “, Sorry”

“Cardiff?” Lestrade inquired not sure how I had figured out that bit of information.

“It’s obvious isn’t it?” I asked…The weather, her coat, the umbrella? How had they not discovered it themselves? I looked at the two of them who both wore blank expressions on their faces. “

“It’s not obvious to me.” John admitted.

Once again I looked between the two of them and realized they must not have picked up on it. “Oh dear god what is it like in your tiny little brains it must be so boring. Her coat is slightly damp she has been in heavy rain in the last few hours there has been no rain in London during that time. Under her collar is damp too she has turned it up against the wind. She has got an umbrella in her left hand pocket but it is dry and unused. Not just wind, strong wind, too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight so she must have come a decent distance but she can’t have traveled more than two or three hours because her coat is still hasn’t dried. So where has there been heavy rain and strong within that travel time? Cardiff.” I finished showing them the weather reports in Cardiff.

“That’s fantastic!” John exclaimed making me smile lightly. Praise, it was marvelous.

“Do you know you do that out loud?” I asked curious, his tone said he was just thinking aloud.
John closed his mouth for a second. “Sorry I’ll shut up”

“No, it is fine.” I confirmed. The compliments were perfectly okay, not annoying in the slightest. Honestly I would prefer it if he kept on complimenting me…it was refreshing.

“Why do you keep saying suitcase?” Lestrade asked interrupting my thoughts.

My mind snapped back to the case as I thought out loud. “Yes, now where is it. She must have had a phone or an organizer, find out who Rachel is…”

“She was writing Rachel?” Lestrade asked curiously

“No, she was writing Rache in German” I stated sarcasm dripping from my every word. “…of course she was writing Rachel, now the question is why did she wait until she was dying to write it?” I finished thinking aloud. Rachel, what was so important about the name? What was she trying to tell me?

“How do you know she had a suitcase?” Lestrade asked confusion way too clear in his voice.

I sighed glancing back down at the dirt splash tights of the deceased woman in front of me, “Back of the right leg tiny splash marks on the heel and calf not present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand can’t get that splash pattern any other way. Smallish case going by the spread, case that size, woman this clothes conscious. Can only be an overnight case so we know she was staying one night.” I explained before scanning the room with my eyes in an attempt to locate the case that would no doubt be a matching pink to her coat, “Now where is it? What have you done with it?”

Lestrade just stared at me before shaking his head. “There wasn’t a case.”

I froze at his words. They didn’t make sense. She clearly had a case, the splash marks indicated it…and a phone, she must have brought a phone with her as well. “Say that again?” I commanded in a whisper. If she didn’t have her case with her then someone else must have been here proving that it was murder…Still there still might have been a case found.

“There wasn’t a case. There was never any suitcase.” Lestrade spoke clearly as I got up and rushed out of the room.

“Suitcase! Can anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?” I asked addressing the people outside of the room. Surely someone had seen it. Maybe that hadn’t reported it to Lestrade yet.

Lestrade’s voice echoed down from where he stood at the highest platform of the stairs. “Sherlock there is no case.”

I was now two flights below Lestrade as I looked up at him. “They take the poison themselves. They chew swallow the pills themselves, there are clear signs even you lot couldn’t miss them. “

He didn’t understand what I was getting at. It was obvious, his face screamed out his confusion for him. “
All right well thanks, and?”

“It’s murder, all of them I don’t know how. They are not suicides they’re killings, serial killings. We got ourselves a serial killer. I love those, there is always something to look forward to. “ I explained my thought mixing with my words.

“Why are you saying that?” Lestrade hollered down from atop the stairs his voice sounding stupid because of the obviousness of what I was talking about.

Breathing in mentally rolled my eyes. Come on surely he understood what I was referring to? “Her case, come on where is her case? Did she eat it? Someone else was here and they took her case. So the killer must have driven her here, forgot the case was in the car. “Again my thoughts mixed neatly with my explanation. Yes, the killer had definitely driven her here which meant the case was still in the car or dumped along the side of the road after he realized it was still there.

“She could have checked into a hotel and left her case there?” Lestrade attempted struggling to maintain the idea that all of these were suicides.

I looked up at him surprised he could be so stupid. “No she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair! She color coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She’d never have left any hotel with her hair still looking…” I paused and clapped my hands in triumph before mumbling to myself”, Serial killers are always hard, have to wait for them to make a mistake. “

“We can’t just wait!” Lestrade yelled down hopefully for his sake without thinking.  

I stopped going down the stairs for a second and yelled back up at him. “Oh, we are done waiting, look around, really look. Houston we have a mistake! Get on to Cardiff, find out who Jenifer Wilson’s family and friends were. Find out who Rachel is. “ I ordered.
Lestrade still looked confused “Okay of course but what mistake?”

Rushing out I hollered back over my shoulder. “Pink!” I had to find her suitcase…Shouldn’t be too hard. A suitcase of that shade of pink would stick out. The driver would have noticed that it was still in the vehicle before he went too far and would have tried to get rid of it…Now to find that case. Excitement was filling me as I rushed off away from the scene of the crime.


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All three of them loved to solve puzzles
They just took different paths
The Villain, the Hero, and the Secretary?
Two of them made sense but the third?
Well, she had her reasons.
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I do NOT own Sherlock Holmes nor do I own any of the dialect that I use from it. What I do own is any additional characters I add into the story and my alterations to the original which make it a fan fiction. Admittedly my fan fiction starts out slower and all parts told from Sherlock's point of view up until the point when he meets my OC will be the same.