Just a quick disclaimer, I didn't actually write the song in this chapter. All rights go to Vanessa Carlton.
Also, the song is on the side!
That's all....I think..
Happy reading!
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Chapter 3;
I awoke the next morning, to the smell of pancakes.
Oh how I love pancakes.
I quickly rush out of bed, not bothering to fix my appearance, and practically run down the stairs. Once I reached the bottom, I stopped, and strolled into the room as though it was nothing.
I looked around, seeing a little old lady at the stove, cooking. Sherlock was at the window, playing the violin, beautifully.
“Oh hello dear! Sherlock, who is this?” asked the old women, as she smiled at me.
“Oh Mrs. Hudson, this is John’s niece Winter. She’s come to stay with us while she goes to Uni. Now, Winter do you have a piano?” Sherlock asked, coming into the room.
“Well, no, but I do have a small keyboard. Why do you ask?” I asked him, although I was looking at the floor, not wanting to get lost in his eyes.
Again.
“Oh good, will you run up and fetch it?” he asked.
“Why?” I asked.
“Well, I figured you could play something for Mrs. Hudson.” He said.
I looked over at Mrs. Hudson, who smiled at me. I smiled back, and nodded, before heading back up the stairs. I brushed my hair, and changed into a pair of jeans and a Criminal Minds t-shirt. I slipped on my converse, and went to the bathroom. I brushed my teeth, and then grabbed my keyboard, and stand. I went back down the stairs and set up my keyboard. I grabbed the metal chair from the desk, and sat behind my keyboard.
“What would you like to hear Mrs. Hudson?” I asked.
“Oh anything dear, whatever you can play.” She said, nicely.
I thought for a moment, before an Idea came to me.
“Right, well this song is called A Thousand Miles, I wrote it a long time ago.” I said, before I began to play.
I took a deep breathe as the lyrics neared. I was never this nevus to play in front of this little of people. Perhaps its because….
Because of Sherlock.
I opened my mouth, and began to sing, before my thoughts could progress any further.
Making my way downtown
Walking fast
Faces pass
And I'm home bound
Staring blankly ahead
Just making my way
Making a way
Through the crowd
And I need you
And I miss you
And now I wonder....
If I could fall
Into the sky
Do you think time
Would pass me by
'Cause you know I'd walk
A thousand miles
If I could
Just see you
Tonight
It's always times like these
When I think of you
And I wonder
If you ever
Think of me
'Cause everything's so wrong
And I don't belong
Living in your
Precious memory
'Cause I need you
And I miss you
And now I wonder....
If I could fall
Into the sky
Do you think time
Would pass me by
'Cause you know I'd walk
A thousand miles
If I could
Just see you
Tonight
And I, I
Don't want to let you know
I, I
Drown in your memory
I, I
Don't want to let this go
I, I
Don't....
Making my way downtown
Walking fast
Faces pass
And I'm home bound
Staring blankly ahead
Just making my way
Making a way
Through the crowd
And I still need you
And I still miss you
And now I wonder....
If I could fall
Into the sky
Do you think time
Would pass us by
'Cause you know I'd walk
A thousand miles
If I could
Just see you...
If I could fall
Into the sky
Do you think time
Would pass me by
'Cause you know I'd walk
A thousand miles
If I could
Just see you
If I could
Just hold you
Tonight
The song ended, and I looked up from my keyboard, and heard clapping.
I saw Uncle John standing in the doorway, smiling. Mrs. Hudson was standing by Uncle John’s chair, smiling as well. Sherlock was sitting in his chair, but I wasn’t even sure if he was listening, he looked to be concentrating on something entirely different.
“That was lovely dear! You have so much musical talent. Would you like some pancakes?” Mrs. Hudson asked.
I nodded early, and rose from the keyboard. I followed Mrs. Hudson into the kitchen, and she handed me my plate. Uncle John came in, and opened the fridge, where there was a head.
Uncle John turned to look at me, as though he was expecting me to freak out.
“Sorry, about that Winter. Sherlock likes experiments.” Uncle says.
“No uncle, its fine. Doesn’t bother me much, in boarding school, my roommate was the daughter of a mortician.” I said, shrugging.
“Right well, Sherlock, are you ready? Inspector Lestrade is expecting us.” Uncle says.
“Wait, Inspector? Why are you going to see an Inspector?” I asked, finishing my pancakes.
“You know Sherlock is an consulting detective, well, the police need his help. Apparently there has been to teenagers that were killed, but they aren’t sure if its murder or suicide.” Uncle said.
“Oh, interesting.” I said, as I out my plate in the sink.
“Would you like to join us? You could be useful.” Sherlock says.
I smiled, but turn to my uncle for approval.
“Whoa, no. She just got here, and besides you need to focus on school.” Uncle John said.
“Oh come on John. You and I don’t know much about teens these days, although I could probably figure it out. It’d be nice to have her opinion. How old are you child?” Sherlock asked.
“Oh, I’m 22. I’d like to come along, I mean I’d always found this interesting. Despite the fact that people are dead.” I said.
“Alright fine. But if it becomes to much, you can leave.” Uncle said.
I smile widely, and to the stairs to grab my jacket.
“Grab your trench coat and scarf!” Sherlock calls.
“Why?” I asked.
“Well, dear, you’re going to assist a detective, you must look the part!” Sherlock exclaims.
I laugh, and go up the stairs. I grab my purple scarf and trench coat, and head back down stairs.
I laugh, seeing how much Sherlock and I do actually match.
“My, my you too look absolutely adorable! You be careful now, running around with these two can be dangerous.” Mrs. Hudson said.
I smiled, before following Sherlock and uncle out the door. We called a cab, and climbed in. We sat in silence, before finally arriving at the crime scene.
We climbed out, and I found myself in a very familiar place.
“I use to live here.” I said allowed, before realizing it.
“That’s right. When you were small, you lived about three houses away.” Uncle said.
We walked threw the police tape, when three people came out of the front door.
“Oh good, Sherlock, you’re here. Wait, who’s this?” asked a tall man with grey hair.
“Inspector Lastrade, this is Watson’s niece, Winter. She’s here to help.” Sherlock said, seriously.
“Help? She’s just a kid, she could blabbing her mouth to all her little friends. We don’t need that.” Said another man with black hair.
“Anderson please don’t talk. I’ve told you before your voice lowers the entire streets IQ. Besides, she is 22, and we don’t have to worry about her talking, she doesn’t have any friends.” Sherlock said.
“Sherlock, don’t be rude.” Uncle said.
“No, its alright. He’s right, I dont really have friends, I just moved here.” I said.
“Right well, no friends, and matching trench coats, looks like we got are selves to freaks. Congratulations, Lastrade.” Said a dark skinned women, with dark curly hair says, while giving me a scowl.
“Thank you Sgt Donovan, now both of you, get back to work.” Lestrade said strictly.
“Now tell me about the crime scene?” Sherlock asked.
“Right well, its too young teens. The girl’s parents found them this morning. They said that they were in a rough patch of their relationship. They were found with many different kinds of drugs in there system, but there cause of death looks to be suffocation. Sgt Donovan thought maybe the boy killed the girl, then himself, or vis versa. But I figured that we better call you, it was just easier.” Lestrade said.
Sherlock nodded, as we followed Lestrade inside, and up to the bedrooms.
Sherlock and I entered the room, and looked about, while Lestrade and Uncle John stood back.
“Murder.” Sherlock and I said at the same time.
I snapped my head to look at Sherlock, finding his already looking at me with a questionable look on his face.
“Now there is two of them!” Lestrade cried, causing us to laugh.
“So, Sherlock, how is my niece supposed to help you?” Uncle asked.
“Right, well, clearly she is twelve times brighter then most people, if she can tell already this is murder. But I need her help, more or less, to figure out the cause of the teens attitude and behavior towards there death. Clearly they knew they were going to die, but they question is…how?” Sherlock said.
“So, Lestrade, what were there names?” I asked.
“Blair Jennings, and Derek Levine. Derek goes by-“
“The Blade Master.” I said, cutting Lestrade off.
“You know them?” Uncle John asked.
“No, but I do know of them. There both renown gangsters, locally of course. But no, before you ask, this isn’t the work of another gang. It would be a lot messier, and besides, they would have made there mark known.” I said.
“She’s right. Other gangs would be proud of their work of taking out the leader of another gang. This…this was planned but by someone not willing to get caught. They knew they were going to die.” Sherlock said, scanning the room.
“But how? How did they know?” Uncle John asked.
I stood silent for a moment, scanning the room, and thinking. I walked over to the girls body. Face down on the bed, her greasy blonde hair scattered about. On the nightstand next to her, there was …. Blood stains?
The wood was dark, so they were rather hard to see, but they were there. I lifted the girls arm, finding cuts, deep cuts.
“Did Blair Jennings have a history in self harm?” I asked.
“Yes, actually. The mother said that months prior to her death she was very depressed, and self harmed.” Lestrade said.
I bent down onto one knee, getting eye level with the nightstand.
“Sherlock, can I borrow your magnifying glass?” I asked.
Sherlock nodded, and I began to get a better look at the bloodstains.
‘Help Her’ it read.
“Did Blair have a daughter? Cousin? Sister? Some other female that could have been over here last night?” I asked.
“No…not that we know of. Why?” Lestrade asked.
“A message. Written in Blair’s blood. It says ‘help her’ but who is ‘her’ is the question.” I asked.
“Very good. John I’m beginning to like this niece of yours.” Sherlock said.
“Check out Blair’s family history, maybe even Derek’s too. Find out who this ‘her’ is. Clearly it was important enough for Blair to write it in her own blood.” I said.
“Well, thank you Sherlock, and Winter, for coming out. We will get started with the rest of the investigation, and keep you posted.” Lestrade said.
I nodded, as Sherlock shook Lestrade’s hand.
I followed them out, and we left the scene, ignoring the comments from Anderson and Sgt Donovan.
We climbed into a cab, and I let out the air I had been holding in subconsciously.
“You did great in there, Winter. How did you manage to see all that?” Uncle asked.
“It was simple really. When I use to go to work with my dad, he taught me all kinds of tips and tricks on how to identify crime scenes and things to look for. Plus with all the crime shows I watch, I guess its just rooted into my brain.” I said.
We arrived back at the flat, which we were greeted by Mrs. Hudson, saying there was someone here to see Sherlock.
Sherlock groaned, clearly already knowing who it was.