The curious case of Sherlocks Heart (closed)

[Asa]

Mrs Hudson was not without her own secrets. She knew who the young woman was roughly. An old family friend. She had know the girl her entire life and was rather fond of her like an aunt or more motherly figure. A wanderer traveler a warrior she was perhaps one of the only people alive that the young woman had ever let get close to her. A confirmed roof over her head if her travels brought her to London. A soundproof single room yet none of them ever saw her arrive or leave.


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She stood watching from the rooftop. There they were thoae same two humans chasing her prey. They clearly had no idea what they were doing. She shook her head and stepping off the roof landed quietly behind her distracted prey.

Naughty naughty possessing an innocent human... let me fix that for you.

A blade finding housing in the chest just below the heart as she moved behind the frozen being uttering an ancient prayer as she snapped the neck dropping the body as the two men rounded the corner and she was gone.

He's dead Sherlock... just like the others

Watson stood up after examining the corpse.

The same hardly fatal stab wound and their neck broken.

And that same burnt sulfurish smell

Sherlock added irately.

But how and who is this person we keep just barely missing. People guilty of the most well hidden yet heinous crimes are being executed nearly before even we figure out who they are.

He was angry someone was apparently faster at solving these crimes than he was and that did not sit well at all with Sherlock Holmes.

For days now Mrs Hudson brought up tea and snacks. Lestrade asked questions about the murders that honestly he and the rest of the force were unofficially glad to see. Someone cleaning up the untouchable side of London for them. Mycroft even had paid visits that normally ended with John dismissing him since Sherlock was smoking or meditating trying to figure it out.

Mrs Hudson also seemed to have added some things to the menu that they never got any of not that it was something to question with such an infuriating case attacking them but still it did not go without notice. Mrs. Hudson wondered if her young friend had anything to do with what was going on.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Sherlock paced the living room of their flat, the bow of his fiddle tumbling in his hand. There was some gap, some hole in this case and it ate at him like a rat nibbling at the back of his neck. No matter how he swatted at it, it wouldn't leave him be. The faces of each victim hung from the wall, a print out of their list of crimes beside them.

"Each victim, a known criminal. Each murder, the same modus operandi. The simple pierce is steady, even and fluid. It implies a great deal of strength to impale a human torso without stopping and starting the thrust." He says, turning and thrusting his bow in the air.

"The entry wound indicates a ventral thrust: the victim caught unaware. Yet, this is not the fatal wound. That is instead a severing of the spinal column at the L3-L4 junction. Again, a great deal of strength to snap the neck of a standing victim." He continues as John sits and types away at his laptop.

Spinning to the wall of victims, Sherlock again narrows his eyes. Flicking from line to line of the arrest records, his fingers idly plucking the strings. There had to be some link, some thing, that bound these victims. While they were all the lowest of the low, it did not change the fact that someone was killing these people without remorse and leaving without a trace.

"This is your job, or you think it so, don't you?" Sherlock mutters as though he is talking with his unknown and unseen foil. "You've worked at being this invisible, this strong, haven't you?" He whispers, eyes still dancing, desperate to find some string to tie around this endeavor.

 

[Asa]

He still at it isn't he. Poor dear. Well I brought you both some tea before stepping out to the shops for a bit. Is there anything ya need me to pick up John?

Mrs Hudson may gripe that she was not their housekeeper but that motherly instinct to fawn over them was strong.

She had just started to turn to go when the phone rang. Lestrade.

Thames. Near park... NOW! Be ready to get his smug fat lipped brother out of my hair since I can't arrest him and I can't shoot him.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Sherlock sneered at Mrs. Hudson's constant mothering. "Slip some sleeping pills in it to make me sleep again, nanny?" He asked ascerbicly. He turned back to his wall of victims as John took the call from Lestrade.

Sherlock threw his fiddle at the chair in the living room and yanked his coat off the hook by the door. Running out the front of 221B Baker Street, he was already yelling for a cab when John caught up behind him. The damn cab was unsuitably slow and sherlock drummed on his thighs in the back until they finally arrived at their destination.

Somehow, Mycroft was already there, yelling about how many police were here this time. He seemed more interested in keeping the crime scenes quiet as there were already rumors of the return of a Jack the Ripper-esque figure in London again.

"Jack the Ripper frequented Whitehall, not Trafalgar Square..." Sherlock muttered as he swept through the police cordon and knelt beside the medical examiner.

"Puncture back to front again followed by a spinal fracture?" He asked, wanting confirmation it was the same MO they had seen in the past murders.

 

[Asa]

Yeah that's right and that same sulfur smell.

Lestrade pointed off to the side much to Mycrofts annoyance.

Got the better of the more sensitive systems around here.

Mycroft ignored Lestrade and turned his sole attention onto Sherlock.

So have we found a case that has bested my illustrious little brother? How long will it take you to deduce even the simplest of points to offer anything that even that simpleton can work with? I am already getting questions from far higher than you can fathom that I can not answer because you have not offered one single clue about any of this Shirley... now how long do we have to wait for you to get anywhere with this or give up?

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Sherlock nodded. The smell of sulfur was a niggling piece of evidence. More and more it felt like the hole in this case. If he could find an explanation for it, the other pieces may fall into place. He heard the crunch of expensive leather soled shoes on the gravel behind him before Mycroft set off on one of his tirades again.

"Brother, I appreciate your frustration, but cases like these do not move on a time table, not can you force them to obey your schedule. I will unravel this mystery in my own time and in my own way as I always have. If your superiors do not wish for my help, I am happy to return home and leave this case in the hands of Lestrade and his men. Now do you want this case closed or do you want it solved?" Sherlock said, standing squarely before his brother as an equal, despite Mycroft's political power.

 

[Asa]

I expect something in a week Sherlock before whoever this is wipes out half of London.

Dismissing his brother he turned to John.

Do keep him on task Dr. Unless you can tell me.more than he can right now.

John stood up from the body a confused look on his face and on the coroner's face as well.

The unknown attacker ... was at least 6 inches shorter than the victim.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Sherlock wheels to John. "You're quite sure of that figure?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense for the wound to be a straight as it is from front to back." Dr. Watson confirmed.

"Yes, to get the power needed, the attacker would use their whole arm behind the thrust. And, to maintain the line, it would have to come straight out from the shoulder. If their shoulder is that low, they must be shorter than the victim...." He looked back at the body, eyes narrowed.

"And the attacker is possibly female if the height discrepancy is that much." Sherlock says, extrapolating from the data so far. "But then, where is the evidence of our attacker leaving the scene?" He murmurs, kneeling down and looking for any sign of foot prints. Being this close to the river, there is surely some clue left behind in the mud, even a heavily traveled area such as this.

 

[Asa]

Various footprints of joggers and a few strsycat footprints but none that were necessarily close to the body but the small housecat sized paw prints.

The coroner pointed out. Well maybe the cat got mad and offed him he was known for illegal dog fights among other things.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

"Levity in the face of this case will not assist us in capturing this villain," Sherlock said, not bothering to look at the coroner as he scanned the ground for anything that might help.

"Another victim that enjoyed inflicting pain on others. In this case, animals, but not unlike some of the others. Our murderer is seeming more and more like a vigilante with each victim we find, but how are they finding their quarry? I wonder if Inspector Lestrade might shed some light on that." Sherlock said, springing to his feet.

"What say you, Inspector? You yourself on numerous occasions have made mention of your departments likeness to a colander or sieve. Might we have your colleagues to thank for spreading the information about our unfortunate victims?" Sherlock accused, watching Lestrade for any hint or reaction that might tip him off to the link between the police, and this vigilante.

 

[Asa]

High profile cases like this are handled by only myself or your favorite detective.

Motioning over to the female who tolerated his presence because of Lestrade and now Mycroft no matter how.much she hated both Holmes.

How on earth could a woman do this Sherlock seriously. How many female bodybuilders do we have in the whole of England. That's more of an american thing for women.

John studied the area as well.

Too many footprints from all of us but yeah those little paw prints are the only foot prints closer to the body than us.

This case was beginning to irk John as well.

I want to be present when Molly examines the body maybe then we can figure out something else about the blade at least.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Sherlock turned back to those curious cat footprints. Strangely, the body doesn't cover them. They seem ante- and postmortem. The cat seemed to deliberately miss the body. Was the cat here during the attack? Why was it not scared off?

Sherlock shook his head, surprised to find himself dwelling on such superfluous details. He nodded in agreement with John. "I would surmise it will be the same findings as the other killings. Our murderer would no sooner rid themselves of the blade as they would a finger. I'd wager she considers it very personal. It's integral to the justice she is meting out." Sherlock theorized, looking down at the clean wound in the chest of the latest victim.

 

[Asa]

Mycroft snorted at the idea that the attacker could be a woman but left without so much as a goodbye but a stern look to John and he was gone.

Pompous twit Lestrade grumbled. Dealing with one Holmes was bad enough but now this case had him neck deep in them.

We aren't going to get anywhere here Sherlock let's get going

John sighed. There was something gnawing at him about a almost negligible change in Mrs Hudson as well and hoped she was not hiding another cold.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Sherlock nodded. "Let's get to the coroner's office and witness this autopsy. Lestrade, we will meet you over there." Sherlock strode away from the scene, leaving Scotland Yard to see to body and the rest while he and John found a cab.

On the ride over, Sherlock kept his eyes out the window. His mind brought up each victim like a slide in a carousel of frames. Each one looked so much like the next. Each stab and each neck snapped with such precision. He wondered if this murderer might not be like himself and therefore incapable of making a mistake that might leave a clue for him to find.

 

[Asa]

They may be right you know... for a woman of that height to do something like that just how strong she would have to be Sherlock. That sulfur smell at every one of the victims. And not on the body or their clothes just in the air every time.

John was beginning to share Sherlock's frustration with the case.

This assailant does not care if they are seedy underworld or untouchable wealth. I had heard of soldiers so highly trained to hide that they could literally almost be standing right in front of a target and no one would see them at all. Even in broad daylight.

-----------------
Mrs Hudson sat at the table in her flat sipping tea talking with a young woman.

So how long have you been in town dear. I know you said when you first popped round that you had to go to Warwick for a bit.

The young woman smiled.

Been back a couple of days just didnt want to disturb anyone. I dont have much time today but perhaps we can go to that fish and chips shop dad told me about that all of you would go to after classes.

I'd love that dear.

Mrs Hudson smiled as the young woman finished her tea hugged her friend and headed out the door.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Sherlock shook his head. "Yes, John, the training of your colleagues is remarkable, but even thay can't change the laws of physics. Even they can't help but leave behind a boot print, a snapped twig, some evidence of their passing. Our murderer breezes in and out with naught but the aroma of sulfur on the wind. It's like something out of a comic book. Sadly, in this world, people cannot pop in and out."

Sherlock reiterated if for no other reason than to tell himself that this was a world of logic and science. He could feel his mind slipping over a precipice of wild conjecture and dime-store novel story telling. He clung to reality for if not for it, all order in his life would evaporate.

The cab stopped at the morgue and Sherlock hustled downstairs, not waiting for John to pay the cabbie. Bursting into the coroner's office, he frowned a bit as his impertinence had startled Molly. "Apologies... I was in a rush. Have you any news from the latest victims?" He asked softly, finding it hard to remain cold to the sweet Molly.

 

[Asa]

Molly jumped but was rather used to Sherlock and just smiled.

If I had not seen the wounds on these victims I would not have believed it. Who did this Sherlock?

She had seen alot but a wound like this was impressive to say the least.

Best guess a sword unbelievably strong and sharp. But then they would have to take the time to resheath it to break their neck. How does that make any sense Sherlock?

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Sherlock furrowed his brow. "The sword was removed before the neck snap? You're quite sure?" He asked, leaning over the body. As he did, it was the first time that he realized there were no signs of lateral damage. That meant no twisting or use of the sword to bring the victim to his knees for the snap.

"Perhaps the victim's were too stunned by the stab to run away... but then why did they not drop to the ground?" He muttered, staring at the exit wound in the man's chest. It was surgical like all the others. It was unnaturally clean for a stab from the back to the front as well.

"Someone would have seen a large powerful woman that made a stab like this. This is no petite waif that's doing this..." He murmured, circling the table as he fixated on the exit wound now.

 

[Asa]

How are you so sure it is a woman? I can tell you that it is possible that the attacker was maybe left handed. A couple of the victims wounds look like right handed maybe but still I cant imagine it being a woman.

John arrived.

At least 6 inches shorter than the latest victim or did I miss something.

She began studying something.

No that would be right. So yes maybe a woman but yeah she would have to be incredibly strong and built for her size

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Sherlock nodded. The attacker would have to be very strong. Unless there were some way to account for the extra force.

"Sulfur..." Sherlock murmured. "An irritant and the smell is vomitous to some. Perhaps that is how the attack is initiated. A small projectile of sulfur that shatters on impact with the victim, aerosolizing the powder and inducing a coughing fit. While the victim is doubled over, that's when the attacker strikes, leaping down at them from above, using their fall to help propel the blade through the victim. With them so wounded, it's little trouble for the shorter attacker to snap the neck of the victim." Sherlock breathed a bit easier. He was able to find his logic after all in the midst of this mystery.

 

[Asa]

She realized that Sherlock was grabbing at straws and agreed with him. She moved to answer the phone leaving John and Sherlock to examine the body.

You bring up valid points there Sherlock. That would explain quite a bit of the situa...

Lestrade said they found another one. Baker street. No close to your flat but still he figured you two would want to check on Mrs. Hudson on your way.

 

[such_a_bad_man]

John and Sherlock looked at each other. "Baker Street!" They declared, nearly running out of the morgue and back out to a cab as fast as they could. Sherlock demanded as much speed as they could muster, dreading that the attacker may be coming after them now that they were on the trail. Either way, it paid to check in on Mrs. Hudson before they got to the crime scene.

Bursting through the door, Sherlock called out. "Mrs. Hudson?! Mrs. Hudson, are you here?" He went from room to room, searching for the landlady for his flat.

 

[Asa]

What's with the shouting. I'm right here.

She was in their kitchen putting away the groceries she always got for the.

Are you two alright?

 

[such_a_bad_man]

Sherlock breathed easier at the sight of Mrs. Hudson unharmed. "Oh thank heaven. We had heard there was another murder on Baker Street. With our involvement in the case, it was not outside the realm of possibility that the attacker would come here to drive us off the case. However, I see you are unharmed."

Sherlock sighed, turning to his wall of victims and frowns. "I'll have to add the latest ne'er-do-wells to that another time..." He murmured. "No one has been up here, have they, Mrs. Hudson?" He asked, feeling like something was different about his wall of victims. He couldn't put his finger on it, however.

 

[Asa]

I did a bit of straightening to your little puzzle there Sherlock. And I did see some police down at the other end of the road when I was coming back from the fish market.

She paused.

You dont think someone on this street was one of those poor cictims.