Sherlock: The Next Generation

Від FernStone

233K 4.9K 1.8K

Sherlock had never expected to fall in love. Emotion, sentiment, had never really been a thing that had affec... Більше

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Christmas
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Valentine's Day - Johnlock
Valentine's Day - Martin x Max (Aka Maxin)
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Author's Note
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Afterword

Chapter 73

1.1K 42 32
Від FernStone

Author's Note

First off... Wow O.o this has over 100000 reads! Like geez, when I first started writing this I hope a few people might enjoy it. The amount of people that read it, just wow, you guys are all so amazing and I'm so glad that you are continuing to enjoy this and put up with the bad chapters that occur and current infrequent updates. Love you all, really! Especially those who comment, just makes my day :) So yeah, thanks for all of that. Anyway, this chapter begins a sort of plot that will continue into the sequel... Surprisingly pleased with it. Next chapter is going to be awesome as well I hope! One clue: it involves a certain ship you all seem to ship. I'll let you guess exactly what it is...

So, enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 73

"Hamish, you'll want to come and see this."

"A case? Great, I'll be there right away. Text me the details." Hamish quickly hung up on DI Williams, jumping up off his chair (he had refurbished most of 221b, though it didn't look that different from his dads' time) and grabbing his coat as he headed out the door. It was pulled on as he walked, along with his dark navy blue scarf. He checked the message Williams had sent him before getting into a cab, giving directions and making sure that the driver knew there was a sense of urgency to this. There had been a murder!

"You got here quick," Williams commented as Hamish arrived at the building where the murder had taken place. The house seemed to be abandoned, windows boarded up with wood. So the victim had been lured here. Motivation behind the crime, then, not just a random killing. Revenge? Definitely a strong competitor for what it could be.

"What did you expect? Am I not always prompt," Hamish rolled his eyes at the older man, who just shook his head slightly. Williams was one of the youngest Detective Inspector, most talented out of the bunch and had taken the job that had been Lestrade's when he retired. "So what are we looking at?"

"Woman of a middle age dead by something that does not wound, most likely poison. Most of the facts we've managed to gather point towards suicide but we're not sure."

"That's why I'm here," Hamish spoke with a slight drawl, following Williams into the house. "Because, as per normal, the police need help."

"Something like that."

 A silence fell over them as the properly entered the house, broken now and then by floorboards creaking. The walls that made up the house were covered in mould, a damp smell coming off them and wafting up the nostrils. A dark staircase spiralled to their right and was only lit by what light managed to get through the window coverings. Williams navigated the dimly lit corridors, handing Hamish a torch so he could see better as they entered the main living room. The body was lying in the middle room. Frowning, Hamish bent down, looking closely at the body. Woman in her early seventies. Brown hair, blue eyes, plain in appearance. Clothes not quite casual, not quite smart. She was coming home from work. Lines on the face indicate that the job can be stressful, but not enough for it not to be enjoyable. Hairs covering her legs were that of a cat; too thin to be a dog's. One cat. Slight grease stains on the fingers, she was eating a fish and chip take away on her way home. No children, but obviously loved them. So a school or nursery teacher. Clothes indicated nursery. Ring, dirty on the outside but polished on the inside. Not hers, shown by lack of any marks on ring finger upon removal of the ring. Planted there by the murderer then...

"The murdered woman is Miss Helen North. I am sure you will be able to find out her details and make the right enquiries to see if she is indeed missing. Which she is, of course, considering she is dead at my feet," Hamish frowned, moving away from the body to investigate the surroundings. If his suspicions were right then there would be more clues somewhere...

"How do you know?"

"Let's just say I knew her once." A long, long time ago. Hamish's memory was a little hazy and but he was suspicious of the fact that she, someone who he had sort of known, was murdered in a place that was all too familiar to him. It was all a bit... odd. It was not like there were much connections between Hamish and Miss North, but that did not make Hamish feel any better. A drop of blood caught his eye and he followed the trail. There it is. A bit different than he had expected, though. Painted in blood on the wall, in a dark corner to prevent the police from seeing it (being the blind idiots they were), was the word 'rache.'

"Revenge," Hamish murmured under his breath. He was pretty sure that was the actual meaning this time, since Miss North did not have any children. Hamish pulled out a small vial, collecting some of the blood so he could do a DNA test. He doubted that the murderer was stupid enough to write in their own blood but it was worth a try. "There's some evidence over there you missed," he commented as he walked back past Williams to leave. "Also, get some people searching the nearby area for a bag or suitcase."

"What?" Williams looked confused, frown on his lips.

"She most likely had one. Chances are it is pink. If you find any bags in nearby dumpsters, please contact me. If not I will be in touch in due time." With a slight nod Hamish left, hurrying out of the place with a shiver. He definitely recognised the house where the murder had taken place. He couldn't quite place it, maybe he had erased it from his mind. Probably... He had gotten a bad feeling from the place. He was sure there would be more similar murders following this one if they did not find the murderer soon.

Something which they, supposedly, did in the space of a few days. With the help of the police (well, their resources) Hamish had managed to quite easily track down whose blood it was. The police had of course taken this information and gone and arrested the man whose blood it was. Turned out all the evidence pointed towards him poisoning the victim. Hamish didn't believe it but the police did. Idiots. Even when Williams called the case closed he didn't believe it. It couldn't be that easy. It wasn't like he was even needed for that case, it had been so easy to solve! After quite a few complaints, Williams told him to drop it. They had arrested the man and Hamish didn't need to look into it anymore. But Hamish wasn't going to admit that he was wrong.

He slouched into his chair, an annoyed sigh escaping his breath. No one could see his logic... No one in London at least. This called for a phone call... Although it wasn't one he was loathe to make. Like his dad he preferred to text. But there were a few people he would quite happily called.

"Hello, John Watson speaking."

"Hi, papa," Hamish smiled slightly, perching on the arm of his chair.

"Hamish? You called yesterday, you don't normally call two days in a row."

"You sound suspicious."

"Of course I am. For all I know you could be low on funds and looking to get some money out of your poor old father. Let me tell you right now that it won't work."

"I'm not looking for money, papa," Hamish laughed, rolling his eyes. Though he didn't like to admit it he missed his papa and dad. It was weird being the only one in 221b. He even missed Molly, even if they had their fights like all siblings did. "I would like to talk to dad."

"Of course you did. Have you ran into a problematic case?"

"Eh, sort of."

"I'll just get him. He's out tending to the bees." John and Sherlock had taken up beekeeping a short while after moving into their rather large house in the country. Sherlock had always been intrigued by bees.

"Great," Hamish smiled, waiting as John got his husband and handed over the phone.

"Hello, Hamish. What's the problem?"

"Copycat murderer, killer found far too fast."

"Of what?"

"The study in pink.

Sherlock paused, and Hamish was sure he heard something about a stupid blog muttered under his dad's breath, before he spoke again."Who was the victim?"

"Miss Helen North."

"That name vaguely rings a bell. John! Where do I know a Miss North from?"

Hamish heard a mumbled response from his papa before Sherlock returned to talking to him. "Ah, so that Miss North."

"The very one. Her connection to me isn't exactly massive, didn't know her that well or anything, but it is still there. And I recognised the location. My exact memory is fuzzy but I do recognise it."

"You said they arrested someone on suspicion of this murder?"

"Found them guilty of it, actually. Rache was written in their blood. It wasn't them, though. Only an idiot would leave something like that behind even if they were completely driven by revenge. And the whole thing seems to clever to be the work of an idiot."

"It could merely all be coincidences..." Sherlock didn't sound so sure.

"Uncle Mycroft wouldn't be happy to hear you suggest that." Mycroft believed the universe was rarely so lazy or something like that. "I doubt it, anyway."

"I'm sorry, Hamish, I don't really have anything else to offer on the matter. However, I am sure something like this will appear again."

"As do I. I think that this is part of something bigger."

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