Glass - A Sherlock Fan Fiction

Chapter Thirty Six

Sherlock sat typing on his phone as John interviewed their next potential client. In the time it took the man to introduce himself, Sherlock had solved three mysteries via email.

The client sat in his chair, twiddling his thumbs and talking with a nervous stammer. The bags under his eyes were deep and blue, and he was trying his best not to cry as he talked about the mysterious death of his father. Begging the duo to help him.

"I- I know it seems pretty... pretty obvious. B-but I just know something's not right, Dr Watson."

John nodded sympathetically.

"Of course something's not right," said Sherlock, his eyes never leaving his phone. "Your father was murdered by a jellyfish."

III

Margaux sat in the waiting room, anxiously rolling a dainty bronze ring on her middle finger. She had never testified as an expert witness before, feeling sick at the thought of taking the stand, and her head was throbbing with a headache that had taken root behind her eyes. She tried to focus on the case, going over facts and trying to prepare her answers. But something else was invading her mind – a constant interruption compelling her to double check the date. She obliged, hoping that checking again would calm her down. She opened the calendar on her phone and began to count back the days when suddenly the door swung open.

"You've been called to the stand," said the bailiff.

She sighed, giving him a polite smile and following him out of the room.

She stepped up to the stand, tucking her hair behind her ears and adjusting her jacket.

The bailiff stood in front of her. "Would you please state your name for the court."

She cleared her throat and leaned into the microphone. "Margaux Cave."

"Would you like to affirm, or swear on a holy book?"

"I would like to affirm."

She raised her hand, hoping no one could see it shaking. She felt terrible; ill and tired. Surely it was just nerves. She hoped so. She had never hoped more to be nothing but nervous.

"Do you solemnly, sincerely and truly declare and affirm that the evidence you shall give shall be the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

"I do."

"Please be seated."

She sat down as the judge invited the prosecutor to take the floor. A slender, middle-aged woman stood up and stepped forward. Her hair was a blend of blonde and grey, pulled back into a sleek bun and secured in place with a gold slide. She smiled at Margaux kindly.

"Dr Cave, you work for Scotland Yard, yes?"

"I do."

"Can you tell the court what you do there?"

"Yes, I work for the Scientific Intelligence Unit as a behavioural analyst."

"And you attended the scene of Mr Walton's murder."

"I did."

"Can you tell us how you ended up at the scene?"

"I attended the scene with DCI Greg Lestrade shortly after the report came in. Due to a confession made by Mrs Walton, we attended under the impression that this was a solicited murder. However, after assessing the scene, it was clear that Mr Walton had not been killed by a hit man."

"Can you please explain to the court what brought you to this conclusion?"

"Yes, er." Margaux turned to the screen beside her which lit up with a photograph of the body. The bright light made her headache worse, she squinted slightly as she continued. "As you can see, there was an attempt to conceal Mr Walton's body. This displays a fear of being caught – something a hit man wouldn't worry about. Mr Walton sustained both superficial and fatal injuries, none of which were consistent with a murder-for-hire. He was beaten, hair had been pulled out of his head, he had bite marks on his face and neck, and an excessive amount of stab wounds. It is in my expert opinion that the assailant purposefully prolonged the attack as a means of gaining sexual gratification from inflicting pain. This was later confirmed, as the autopsy revealed evidence of sexual assault on the victim."