The Science of Deduction

A Study in Pink

Freya bolted down the stairs of 221B, John at her heels and holding the laptop. They burst outside onto the corner of the busy street and Freya stepped out into traffic to hail a cab. The irony wasn't lost on her.

John slammed the cab door behind him once he was inside and started giving the cabbie directions according to the map on his laptop screen. Freya pulled out her phone and was calling Lestrade. She knew the man would be annoyed at her practically waiting until he was out of her flat before calling him with a lead, but she couldn't do anything about it now.

She huffed in irritation when someone else picked up the office phone.
"May I speak to Lestrade please?" She asked anxiously. "I need to speak to the Detective Inspector."
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but the Detective Inspector isn't in his office," the too-kind voice replied. "May I take a message?"
"No, you may not! You can go find Lestrade and tell him it's an emergency!"

Next to her, John was busy calling out directions to the cabbie. They turned a sharp left corner and Freya grabbed onto window. The person on the other side of like was silent, hopefully doing as she requested. A few seconds later, a familiar voice answered.
"Freya?"
"Lestrade, listen! The cabbie was the murderer the whole time, and Sherlock left Baker Street with him. John and I are on the way right now, we're tracking the phone, but we're going to need backup!"
She was trying to keep her nerves calm as she spoke. This was the most excitement she had had in a while and she had missed it. This made her feel alive.

"Where are you?" Lestrade asked after pausing to yell to his officers that they were needed for backup.
Freya glanced out the window of the cab. John shut the laptop and began climbing out of the vehicle, motioning for Freya to follow him. John paid the cabbie as Freya looked around and tried to determine her location.
"They're at Roland-Kerr Further Education College," she finally was able to tell Lestrade. "Hurry. I don't know what we're going to find inside."
She hung up before he could tell her to wait for his officers.

John had tucked the laptop into his coat and was regarding the tall, dark building with an expression of fortitude. Freya was grateful to have him with her; the bravery of the solider.
"So how do we do this? They could be anywhere?" John turned and asked her. She sighed lightly, her eyes flicking up the entire five stories of the massive building.
God, she really hoped not.

"We stick together, for one thing," she replied, moving towards the entrance. "And we hurry. We'll try every door on the first floor before moving up to the second. They haven't got that much of a head start on us. We'll find them."
"Right."
The front doors were unlocked and so Freya and John easily slipped inside. John took the lead, jogging down the long corridors and trying every door on the left hand side of the hallway. Freya did the same on the right hand side.
Two pair worked with amazing efficiency, winding their way around the first story of the long building. Every once in a while they came upon a door that wasn't locked and they took the time to search the entire room and check the view from the windows.

But time ticked past and they were no closer to finding either Sherlock or the cabbie. John threw open the door leading down another long corridor and came to a stop when the hallway split into two.
Freya ran past him, taking the left side, trying every door she saw. John did the same on the opposite side, turning to call back to her, "Anything?"
"No," she breathed. "Nothing." Her chest was heaving with exertion and she saw that John's was doing the same.

They followed John's side of the hallway, unwilling to split up and make matters more complicated. John shouldered open the first door he saw, the door swinging back and slamming into the wall behind it.
Freya was across the hall, pushing open the doors and scanning the dark rooms. Her actions of turning the knob to another door were frozen when she heard John shout, "Sherlock!"