London Crown

Part 1

Italic = Brandon's Thoughts/ Conclusions

A cold and lonely day proved cover for the Inspector as he tried to calm the storm of questions. "Alright! Alright, one at a time, please." The D.I. spoke. Slowly, the chitter died down causing the detective took a deep breath. "Now, one at a time. Any more questions?" The detective asked. Hands flew into the air as if trying to catch falling money. The detective points to the journalist for Lonely Planet Publications.

"How can suicides be connected?" The journalist asked.

"They all took some kind of poison. All were in a place they had no business to be in and non showed sign of..."

The journalist interrupted. "But you can't have serial suicides." Everyone agreed with the journalist, Hester looked towards the Sergeant.

"Alright, calm down! Let Inspector Hester talk." The Sergeant called out. "Apparently you can." Hester spoke with a sigh.

"These four people, is there any connections?" Another journalist asked. "We haven't found anything, yet, but we will." Hester said. Before anyone could questions anymore the door flew open to reveal a tall, lachy figure.

"Wrong." Was all that was heard before the room erupted with questions. The tall figure walked up to the Inspector.

"Your nervous. You don't want people to worry, but you think the best way to keep people safe is not to have anyone commit suicide." The figure spoke.

"Brandon." The Inspector warned.

"You need help not just anyone's help, but mine. Now we don't have anytime to waste." Brandon spoke monotoned.

After wandering out of the building they gathered on the busy streets of London. Brandon, the world's only consulting detective, hurried down the street, pushing his way through the busy humans. As he looked around he noticed a woman sitting alone in a cafe. Just stood up, alone. Single, widow, rusty color forming on her finger, from the states. Mother killed her husband out of spite causing a whole investigation. Conclusion, Sydney. The consulting detective made a sharp right into the cafe and sat down in front of Sydney.

"Sydney, we have another case. Now is not the time to mope around about your dead husband and your date that stood you up." Brandon spoke emotionalist.

"What about Neal? Isn't he always around you?" Sydney questioned.

"He's already at Royal's, we should get there before he complains." Brandon said as he quickly got out of his chair, walking to the front door of the small but loud cafe. As Brandon walked out he quickly caught a taxi cab, sliding into the back seat.

"Where to?" The cabbie questioned.

"Royal Free Hospital." Brandon responded coldly.

As the ride carries on the cabbies looks through his back mirror to take a look at Brandon. When they finally arrive Brandon steps out after slipping the cabbie the money. Standing in front of the tall, yet empty, hospital Brandon made his way inside. He walked through the long corridors until he reached a door with his and his partners names. Brandon slips into the room and walks towards the chemical stored away for other experiments.

"We have four dead bodies ready for whatever you do to them." A small voice spoke from behind him.

"Lead the way, Sydney." Brandon requested.

Walking into the room next door, there were four dead bodies lined up in a row. Brandon made his way to the first one, he unzipped the bag the body laid in. 18 years old. Just married, ring on left hand, highest of her class, bumps from writing to long. Sibling problem, brother is an alcoholic. Doesn't like blood. Conclusion Bethanie.

"So?" Neal questioned.

"She had a nice life nothing too bad except her brother has a drinking problem. She was just married and the highest of her class. There's no way she'd want to end her life herself." Brandon concluded.

Neal hummed in acknowledgment while taking a look at the first body. Brandon studied the last three bodies, even they didn't have a reason to commit.

"Could someone have set them up?" Neal questioned aloud.

"Yes, but who? It's never could but always who. The one who hates them the most. The cabbie." Brandon concluded while taking out his phone to message Inspector Hester.

"What could that cabbie have against them?"

"Simple, they had a longer time to live. Our killer has some health issue that's causing him to have a short life span." Brandon spoke matter of factly.

"Alright, but how are we going to find a unhealthy cabbie out of over a hundred?" Neal questioned.

"Doctor Dawson, you really need to keep up. I already know which cabbie to chose. Had him as one on the way here." Brandon respond.

"Great, your getting rides with murders and not even trying to stop them, just great." Neal exaggerated.

Brandon ignored the doctor's comment when he heard a knock on the door, being to0 into his work he didn't try to get it. Neal sighed and got up knowing if he didn't get it then no one would. When Neal opened the door there on the other side was a bottle, but not just a normal bottle. The bottle was a normal pill bottle that had three pills inside that were all the same.

"What in the world?" Neal questioned.

Before Neal could question anymore, Inspector Hester and the cabbie arrived. Hester looked between Neal and Brandon, sighed then left without a word.

"Is there a reason I'm here?" The cabbie questioned.

"Yes, you're the reason these four people are laying on that table right now." Brandon responded.

"And how do you know it was me," The cabbie laughed. "Could been anyone."

"Yes but then they would try to cover their tracks, however, you did not. You left it wide open for anyone to see." Brandon spoke monotoned.

"Well, can you blame me. Doctor says you only got three month to live, you have to have some fun, but I'll tell you this Helmes." The cabbie paused looking around. "I work for some just like but higher in power, brain power. Keep that in mind while you solve this case."
With that the cabbie walked out of the room, without an more questioning. Brandon stood there confused trying to think of some higher than him in brain power. A loud static sound came from the televisions from around the room. When there was pop a dark figure was seen, but not a face.

"Miss me?" The figure questioned.

"Merritt." Brandon mumbled before everything went black.