A Study in Sherlock (1st book in Reality series)

Study in Pink Part 3

The house was exactly like it was in the show. Run down and an eyesore. The inside was considerably better because it wasn't outside in the elements. The hallway's wallpaper was ripping off, the wallpaper which was faded was dirtier than anyplace i've ever been. I went inside with Sherlock and John. They looked very cool and calm, especially Sherlock, which isn't surprising because he had been on crime scenes like this for a while. As we went inside Inspector Lestrade was there, ready for Sherlock.

"I can give you two minutes," he said quickly.

"I need longer," Sherlock replied, then walked off confidently like he was on the runway of Paris Fashion Week. Honestly, he could probably be a model with such a confident strut. "You'll need to put these on," Sherlock instructed us. I nodded while John looked at what he was referring to and what Sherlock tossed him. I hurriedly put on the scrubs while Lestrade looked at John, slightly pissed.

"Who are they?" he inquired.

"They're with me," Sherlock replied. At this point John puts on the overalls however just like Sherlock does in the show, he doesn't put it on as well.

"But who are they?" Lestrade was now demanding answers.

"I told you – they are with me." Sherlock said it so matter of factly that Lestrade didn't dare to ask for more.

"Aren't you going to–" John started but didn't finish when Sherlock shot a glare at him.

"So where are we?" Sherlock urged for the answer.

"Upstairs," Lestrade told Sherlock. Sherlock almost floated up the stairs with his speed.

We went up the stairs of the home. " Jennifer Wilson, according to her credit cards.

"We're running now for contact details. Hasn't been here long. Some kids found her," Lestrade informed us. Well, correction. He informed Sherlock.

We went into the little room with a single window. The floors are decrepit and creaky, everything that would make people avoid this room like the plague, but there was one thing that brought all these people to this little room and run-down house. A body laid face down and a note carved into the floor, left by the victim. The body was a woman, who wore an eyesore pink which covered every article of clothing. Sherlock looked excited, he suddenly looked like he was a kid in a candy store. Or a kid on Christmas getting what he wanted all year. This was a joy which was shown not just by his body language, but his eyes.

"Shut up!" Sherlock cried. I jumped because of the sudden noise.

"Didn't say anything," Lestrade defended himself.

"You were thinking. It's annoying." Sherlock responded. Lestrade and John looked at each other and Lestrade rolled his eyes, he was obviously used to Sherlock's antics.

I took in every detail of the room, trying to note anything important or worth notice. The woman's hair was well done and clean, meaning she got her hair done often and skin clean and bare of any type of acne. So she clearly did something where people would see her often. Her otherwise perfectly pink nails were chipped on her left hand, that was because on the left of her was written RACHE. There were only two things that could be a name like Rachel, or Rache, German for revenge. But why on earth would you in your dying moments write revenge, in German, no less? so Rachel. Her ring was dirty and old, so her marriage was... Iffy to say the least. Her shoes were new and quite expensive, when I passed a shoe shop only a few hours earlier. She obviously cares about shoes.

"What do you think?" A voice behind me asked, interrupting my thought process. I turned around and saw Sherlock looking at me. I nodded.

"Well her hair is well done and clean meaning she gets it done often and her face is clean and free of any acne, so she most likely has a job where people see her often. Because of her clothing, maybe something in the media, I would say news reporter. Her left hand's nails are cracked because she was writing Rachel, not Rache." I stated, he looked at me and raised an eyebrow signaling me to go on. "Why would you write Rache, German for revenge in your last moments? Maybe if the killer wrote it, it would make sense, but she wrote it. So Rachel. Rachel being a typically female name could be a family member or friend. Her nails are perfectly pink on the other hand so she doesn't do much with her hands, and her ring is dirty and old, therefore her marriage is rocky to say the least," I explained.