Clara's head was leaning on her hand as she and Sherlock threw out ideas. She was utterly exhausted, since it was nearly three in the morning.
"Strangled him under the water?" Sherlock threw out.
"No bruising, and people would have seen a diver get out of the water."
"Mmmph." he drummed his fingers on the table. "Previous internal bleeding?"
"No bruising." She replied again. "Poison?" His eyes lit up.
"Now that's more like it. Much simpler. But what poison would do it?"
"No opiates, it doesn't look like an overdose and they would have found it in his system with ease. Nothing that they would have been looking for... No arsenic, and they would have found most poisons in his system." Clara's eyes lit up."Biotoxin?"
"Oh, oh!" Sherlock cried, exuberance overtaking his face, and then he grabbed his microscope and one of the slides of skin. "Lets try looking at it a bit closer..." he did, and his grin was blinding. "Let's see..." he began to dig through The Encyclopaedia of Bacteria and Fungi. "Oh, Clara, you're brilliant!" He stopped at a specific place in the book.
"I know." she said, but then looked confused. "Wait, why am I brilliant?"
"Clostridium Botulinum!" Sherlock cried, slamming his fist on the table. John came around the corner, suddenly looking like he really wished he hadn't.
"Pardon?"
"It's one of the deadliest poisons on the planet!" John's look was very blank. "Carl Powers!" Sherlock almost sang.
"Oh, now I understand why you think I'm brilliant."
"Wait, are you saying that he was murdered?" Sherlock smiled.
"Remember the shoelaces?"
"Yeah."
"The boy suffered from eczema. It'd be the easiest thing in the world to introduce the poison into his medication. Two hours later, he comes up to London, the poison takes effect, paralyses the muscles and he drowns." Clara felt relief swell in her chest. Maybe who ever kidnapped Mary-Kate would let her go now.
"How come the autopsy didn't pick that up?"
"It's virtually undetectable." Clara said, crossing her legs. "Nobody would have been looking for it." Sherlock grinned, and opened up his laptop to The Science of Deduction. Clara looked over his shoulder as he typed.
FOUND. Pair of trainers belonging to Carl Powers (1978-1989).
"But there were still tiny traces of poison left inside the trainers from where he put the cream on his feet." He typed a bit more. "That's why they had to go."
Botulinum toxin still present. Apply 221B Baker St.
Sending...
Sending...
Message sent!
"So how do we let the bomber know?"
"Oh, he knows." Sherlock said, placing his hands together under his chin.
"The killer kept the shoes all these years." John said.
"Yes. Meaning..."
"He's our bomber." Clara finished. The pink phone rang. The crying woman sobbed.
"Well done, you. Come and get me." The woman wept.
"Where are you?" Clara asked. "Tell us where you are!"
YOU ARE READING
Elephant's Memory (Sherlock BBC)
FanfictionThere were many things that Clara Evangeline, at this point, had never done. Clara Evangeline had never been accused of murder. Clara Evangeline had never lost a child to the hands of another human. Clara Evangeline had never gone running through...
