The Adventure of A Curly Haired Girl

The Crimson Riddle

Chapter Six: The Crimson Riddle

Both the detective and his companion were silent on their way to their next crime scene. The threat of Moriarty's return hung ominously in the air.

"What's his next move?" Emily asked. "Is he going to try to kill you again? This time for good?"

Sherlock shook his head.

"No it's too early for any of that." He said as if dismissing his life as an important factor. "Right now it's all about the chase and how we respond to his little games."

"Well, then maybe we shouldn't play."

"That will only aggravate him and cause him to play harder. Although I love cases, I'm pretty certain it's part of my job to make sure the murder count stays at a low."

"Oh, that's the job description of a consulting detective? I thought it was: solve crimes and get killed by psychopaths who have nothing better to do."

If Sherlock was amused by Emily's comment, he did not show it.

"No need to worry Emily, he's not going to try to kill any of us yet."

"Yet." Emily mumbled.

"We do have to be careful though. I do believe he has a close eye on us, and maybe even ears." He nodded his chin in the direction of the cop driving them to the crime scene as they spoke.

Emily turned her gaze back to Sherlock, "Gee, you really know how to calm a girl down and make her feel safe. How do you do it?"

A deep chuckle fell from his lips, "Just stating facts, Emily."

The second crime scene was quite similar to the last, just a different neighborhood and instead, it took place in a small house. Sherlock leapt out of the car as soon as it stopped and took long strides toward a witness sitting by an ambulance.

Emily did her best to keep up and was able to reach them as Sherlock introduced himself.

"You look taller on the telly." A post woman in his early thirties said to Sherlock, her shock blanket was falling of her shoulders slightly, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Benefits of having a nice coat and a small friend."

Emily rolled her eyes playfully and puffed out a sigh.

" Mrs. Taylor is it? Would you please recount what happened when you discovered the body? I'm sure you're going to have to repeat yourself a dozen times to the other detectives."

"Well it was just a normal day," The woman began, "Well except for the fact that I chose to eat at that new Italian restaurant down the street rather than-"

"Mrs. Taylor I did not ask for an autobiography." Sherlock interrupted.

"Right. What did you ask?"

Emily could tell that the woman was clearly shaken up by whatever she had seen.

Sherlock let out a loud sigh, "The murder."

"Oh yes, well I was delivering mail to Robert Mc Landon. He's a very elderly man and he doesn't move around very well. I usually come up to his door to deliver because I don't feel comfortable with him going down his front steps."

Sherlock watched as the woman spoke; he analyzed every little nonverbal sign that was expressed through her body.

"He hadn't been opening his door lately, so I became worried." She continued, but her eyes fell to the floor, " The door was unlocked so I went in to make sure he was okay, and that's when I-"