Sherlock leads his brother and John into a room on the ground floor, Lestrade putting on a coverall "You need to wear one of these." Sherlock tells John. "Who's this?" Lestrade asks. "He's with us." Sherlock tells him, taking his gloves off. "But who is he?" Lestrade asks them. "I said he's with us." Sherlock responds, Enzo coughing slightly making his brother look at him. John takes off his jacket and picks up a coverall, looking at the brothers who are picking up a pair of latex gloves each "Aren't you gonna put one on?" he asks, making the brothers look at him. "So where are we?" Sherlock asks Lestrade. "Upstairs." Lestrade responds, picking up a pair of gloves himself. Lestrade leads the three of them up a circular staircase "I can give you two minutes." he tells them. "May need longer." Sherlock responds, pulling on his gloves. Enzo copies his brother, trying to ignore the slight shake his hands have "Her name's Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards. We're running them now for contact details. Hasn't been here long. Some kids found her." Lestrade briefs them, leading them into an empty room except for a lone rocking horse. Emergency portable lighting is set up near the woman's body, the woman lying face down on the bare floorboards in the middle of the room. Enzo scans her with his eyes, taking in her bright pink overcoat and high-heeled pink shoes.
"Shut up." Sherlock tells Lestrade. "I didn't say anything." he defends. "You were thinking. It's annoying." Sherlock tells him. Enzo walks round the body, his attention being drawn to the floorboards near the woman's left hand where the word 'Rache' has been scratched. Frowning he bends down, looking at the chipped and broken nails on the woman's left hand
Left Handed
Enzo looks back to the word carved into the floorboards
Rache
German) n.) revenge
Shaking his head Enzo starts putting letters next to the word
Rachel
Squatting down he runs his hand along the back of her coat
Wet
Frowning he reaches into her coat pockets and pulls out a white umbrella
Dry
Putting the umbrellaback, he runs his fingers underneath her coat collar
Wet
Reaching into his pocket he pulls out a small magnifier, inspecting the gold bracelet on her left wrist
Clean
He moves onto the gold earring attached to her right ear
Clean
Enzo moves to the gold chain round her neck with a frown
Clean
Finally he looks at the rings on her left ring finger
Dirty
Married
Unhappily married 10+ years
Carefully, he takes the rings off and looks at the it, looking at the outside then the inside
Dirty
Clean
Regularly removed
Serial Adulterer
He puts the rings back on before standing back up, looking at his brother. Sherlock nods, letting him know that they have the same deductions.
"Got anything?" Lestrade asks the brothers. "Not much." Enzo responds as Sherlock takes his gloves off and pulls his phone out. "She's German. 'Rache', it's German for 'revenge.' She could be trying to tell us something-" Anderson starts, leaning against the door frame. Enzo walks over and slams the door in his face "Yes, thank you for your input." he tells him sarcastically. "So she's German?" Lestrade asks. "Of course she's not. She's from out of town, though. Intended to stay in London for one night before returning home to Cardiff." Sherlock tells him, showing his phone to Enzo before putting it away. "So far, so obvious." Enzo adds. "Sorry, obvious?" John asks. "What about the message, though?" Lestrade frowns. "Doctor Watson, what do you think?" Sherlock asks John, looking at him. "Of the message?" John asks. "Of the body. You're a medical man." Enzo tells him. "Wait, no, we have a whole team right outside." Lestrade pipes up. "They won't work with us." Sherlock tells him. "I'm breaking every rule letting you in here." Lestrade tells the brothers. "Yes, because you need us." Sherlcok retorts. "Yes, I do. God help me." Lestrade sighs, looking down. "Doctor Watson." Sherlcok says. "Hm?" John hums, looking at Lestrade. "Oh, do as they say. Help yourself. Anderson, keep everyone out for a couple of minutes." Lestrade concedes, walking out the room.
Enzo watches as Sherlock and John walk over to the body, Sherlock squatting down on one side as John painfully lowers himself on one knee "Well?" Sherlock asks. "What am I doing here?" John asks, leaning on his cane. "Helping us make a point." Sherlock tells him. "I'm supposed to be helping you pay the rent." John retorts, giving him a look. "Yeah, well, this is more fun." Sherlock responds. "Fun? There's a woman lying dead." John points out. "Perfectly sound analysis, but I was hoping you'd go deeper." Sherlock tells him. Lestrade walks back into the room as John drags his other leg down into a kneeling position, leaning forward to look more closely at the woman's body. He puts his head close to hers and sniffs before straightening "Yeah ... Asphyxiation, probably. Passed out, choked on her own vomit. Can't smell any alcohol on her. It could have been a seizure; possibly drugs." he tells them. "You know what it was. You've read the papers." Enzo tells him, leaning against the wall. "What, she's one of the suicides? The fourth...?" John asks. "Enzo, Sherlock. Two minutes, I said. I need anything you've got." Lestrade tells the brothers.
"Victim is in her late thirties. Professional person, going by her clothes; I'm guessing something in the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Travelled from Cardiff today, intending to stay in London for one night. It's obvious from the size of her suitcase." Sherlock starts. "Suitcase?" Lestrade asks. "Suitcase, yes. She's been married at least ten years, but not happily. She's had a string of lovers but none of them knew she was married." Enzo continues. "Oh, for God's sake, if you're just making this up-" Lestrade starts. "Her wedding ring. Ten years old at least. The rest of her jewellery has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. State of her marriage right there. The inside of the ring is shinier than the outside, that means it's regularly removed. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It's not for work; look at her nails. She doesn't work with her hands, so what or rather who does she remove her rings for? Clearly not one lover; she'd never sustain the fiction of being single over that amount of time, so more likely a string of them. Simple." Enzo explains, motioning to the jewellery. "That's brilliant. Sorry." John says, as Sherlock and Enzo look at him. "Cardiff?" Lestrade asks. "It's obvious, isn't it?" Sherlock tells them. "It's not obvious to me." John pipes up.
"Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring. Her coat: it's slightly damp. She's been in heavy rain in the last few hours. No rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp, too. She's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her left-hand pocket but it's 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 travelled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried. So, where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time? Cardiff." Sherlock explains, showing his phone to John and Lestrade. "That's fantastic!" John tells them. "D'you know you do that out loud?" Sherlock asks him quietly. "Sorry. I'll shut up." John says slightly embarrassed. "No, it's... fine." Enzo tells him. "Why d'you keep saying suitcase?" Lestrade asks. "Yes, where is it? She must have had a phone or an organiser. Find out who Rachel is." Sherlock responds. "She was writing 'Rachel'?" Lestrade asks. "No, she was leaving an angry note in German!" Enzo tells him sarcastically. "Of course she was writing Rachel; no other word it can be. Question is: why did she wait until she was dying to write it?" Sherlock asks.
"How d'you know she had a suitcase?" Lestrade asks them. Enzo points at a few small black splotches on the lower part of the woman's right leg "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. Don't get that splash pattern any other way. Smallish case, going by the spread. Case that size, woman this clothes-conscious: could only be an overnight bag, so we know she was staying one night. Now, where is it? What have you done with it?" Enzo asks, crouching down to look at the splatter marks. "There wasn't a case." Lestrade tells them. Sherlock and Enzo both look at him with a frown "Say that again." Sherlock tells him. "There wasn't a case. There was never any suitcase." Lestrade tells the brothers. Sherlock runs out to the landing "Suitcase! Did anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?" he shouts. Enzo follows, following his brother down the stairs "Sherlock, Enzo, there was no case!" Lestrade shouts after them, he and John going onto the landing. "But they take the poison themselves; they chew, swallow the pills themselves. There are clear signs. Even you lot couldn't miss them." Sherlock responds.
"Right, yeah, thanks! And...?" Lestrade asks. "It's murder, all of them. We don't know how, but they're not suicides, they're killings, serial killings." Enzo explains. "We've got ourselves a serial killer. I love those. There's always something to look forward to." Sherlock smiles. "Why are you saying that?" Lestrade asks them. "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." Enzo explains. "She could have checked into a hotel, left her case there." John suggests. "No, she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair. She colour-coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She'd never have left any hotel with her hair still looking..." Sherlock trails off. "Oh. Oh!" Enzo exclaims, realising the same thing as his brother. "Sherlock? Enzo?" John asks. "What is it, what?" Lestrade asks. "Serial killers are always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake." Sherlock explains. "We can't just wait!" Lestrade exclaims. "Oh, we're done waiting! Look at her, really look! Houston, we have a mistake. Get on to Cardiff: find out who Jennifer Wilson's family and friends were. Find Rachel!" Sherlock tells them as he and Enzo's and run down the rest of the stairs. "Of course, yeah, but what mistake?!" Lestrade shouts after them. Enzo runs back to the bottom of the stairs "PINK!" he shouts, running after his brother.