Cuts

Chapter 11

We ended up at the Scotland Yard, in the man from the crime scene’s office, who I found out was named Dimmock. I sit down in one of the seats. “Brian Lukis, freelance journalist. Murdered in his flat…” Sherlock says and turns his laptop around. “… doors locked from the inside.”

“You’ve gotta admit, it’s similar.” John says.  Dimmock scowls at the computer. “Both men killed by someone who can …” John hesitates. “…walk through solid walls.”

“Inspector, do you seriously believe that Eddie Van Coon was just another City suicide?” Dimmock squirms in his seat. Sherlock sighs pointedly. “You have seen the ballistics report, I suppose?”

Dimmock nods. “Mmm.”

“And the shot that killed him: was it fired from his own gun?” Sherlock asks.

“No.” Dimmock asks reluctantly.

“No. So this investigation might move a bit quicker if you were to take my word as gospel.” Sherlock says. Dimmock looks back at Sherlock silently. Sherlock leans forward over the desk and speaks quietly but intensely into his face. “I’ve just handed you a murder enquiry. Five minutes in his flat.”

We get to Lukis’ flat as Sherlock ducks under the police tape at the bottom of the stairs inside the door of the flat. He goes upstairs and Dimmock, John, and me following. We go into the living room and I see an open empty suitcase on the floor. There are books everywhere on the desk and on bookshelves and scattered about on the floor. Several open newspapers are also lying on the floor. Sherlock walks over to the kitchen area and looks through the window at the nearby rooftops of lower buildings. Pushing the net curtain back for a better look, he smirks at us. “Four floors up. That’s why they think they’re safe. Put a chain across the door and bolt it shut; think they’re impregnable.” Sherlock walks into the middle of the room again. “They don’t reckon for one second that there’s another way in.” He turns towards the stairs. I look up and see a skylight.

“I don’t understand.” Dimmock says.

“That should be put onto a shirt.” I say.

John smirks at me.

Sherlock goes out onto the landing. “You’re dealing with a killer who can climb” He hops up on something to get a closer look at the skylight.

“What are you doing?” Dimmock asks.

“He clings to the walls like an insect.” Sherlock says. He unhooks the latch and pushes the window upwards. “That’s how he got in.” He says softly.

“What?!” Dimmock asks.

“Climbed up the side of the walls, ran along the roof, dropped in through the skylight.” Sherlock explains.

“You’re not serious! Like Spiderman?” Dimmock asks.

“He scaled six floors of a Docklands apartment building, jumped the balcony to kill Van Coon. “ Sherlock explains.

Dimmock laughs in disbelief. “Oh, ho-hold on!”

“And of course that’s how he got into the bank. He ran along the window ledge and onto the terrace.” Sherlock says. He steps down onto the landing and looks around. “We have to find out what connects these two men.” He looks at the books scattered up the side of the staircase. He jumps down a few stairs and picks up a book. He shuts it after a couple seconds and heads down the stair. I roll my eyes as John and I follow.

Sherlock gets us a cab to West Kensington Library. Sherlock leads us inside the library and down some aisle. “Date stamped on the book is the same day that he died.” Sherlock says. He goes to one of the shelves and starts to pull out books and examining them. John and I start to pull some books out on nearby shelves on the other side of the aisle. We see some yellow paint like from the office and smile at each other.