Sherlock Holmes and The New Detective

1,16,16,12,5

"Where did you get this?" Sherlock looked up at the girl expectantly.

"I found it. In my dresser. I got what the cipher was in less than five seconds, but it took me a few minutes to figure out what the message was. It was late. It would've only taken me a minute, but I was tired."

As Sherlock decoded the message, the girl explained.

"A threat", she said as she watched Sherlock study the note intently.

She really only had about 25 seconds because he could decode it in about 30.

"Be there or your loved ones will die. Who sent you this?"

"You think I know?" she got up from her chair and snatched the note back. "Size 11, Times New Roman font, printed from an EPSON printer."

"You're smart", Sherlock stated.

"Yes. It's very... interesting, isn't it?"

"Well, yes. Very interesting for a florist who is still mourning the death of her late mother. January or February?"

"February. She died in February. Last year." Tears weren't welling up in her eyes like Sherlock half expected. The other half was expecting her to act strong, which she was doing right now.

"Yet you still go to the gym. Did she go with you?" He shook his head. "No... she was just always telling you to be healthy. You carry that on for her. She's gone, but your promises still stand."

"That's very good, too", she complimented back. "Your friend just moved out from this flat and you miss him. He got married. You're happy for him, but you wish there was some way he could solve some more cases with you. Working with the stubborn police by yourself isn't the greatest. You wish you had someone there to help you solve it, even if you don't need it. He's gone, but the cases go on."

She knew he was a detective from the minute she saw the photos. Either that or a mad man. But when he asked her about a 'case', she knew he was a detective. He couldn't be a police man because he didn't have anything that said he was a police man. No coat, no badge, no nothing anywhere. And if a police man had a bunch of murder photos in his room, he probably wouldn't be able to work.

He also had a room mate because of a few things. One, he had an extra chair. He doesn't seem the type for guests, and maybe just had an extra chair, but there was an old wedding invitation on his desk and a bunch of 'how are you' letters from John. Considering he only has these letters from one person, and said John wouldn't be his brother because who would give one son a completely normal name and name the other Sherlock? And also because who passes letters anymore? It's all about cellphones these days. Calling, texting, skype. No one ever writes any letters. The fact that these letters are also old and mainly just reminders for him like, 'Stop putting dead body parts in the fridge', these were probably just so he would keep himself in check. Not his brother, then it must be someone very close to him, and who is closer than a flat mate? Nobody. But he got married, so he left. Now he lives in a house, or another flat, with his wife, Mary. She got this all from mainly looking at his desk.

"E. What's your name?" Sherlock walked to the chair and sat down on it.

"Emma."

"Well, Emma, how would you like to"

She cut him off. "I would love to solve a case with you."

He smiled.

--------------------------------------

"So, who are we working with?" Emma asked as they were on their way to the crime scene.

"A bunch of people that only see and don't observe."

Emma laughed. Sure, she thought like him, but feelings were a completely different matter.

Sherlock looked from the window to her, confused. "What? Whats so funny? I'm being completely serious."

Emma coughed to clear her throat. "So am I when I say I was wondering about names."

"Well, that doesn't matter now. We're here."

The cab stopped so Sherlock payed the driver and got out. Emma got out seconds after and was met with some unfamiliar faces.

The woman was black with curly hair. Very beautiful. But does she really trust Sherlock Holmes?

Emma walked past her and followed Sherlock inside the flat and up a set of stairs. She was in a living room with brown wallpaper and a flat screen TV that had been smashed. No, not smashed, shot. Who would shoot a TV?

"Uhh... Sherlock. Who's this?" A man who seemed to be in charge pointed at Emma. He was wearing a grey suit and had grey-ish hair.

"Shh..." Emma put a finger on her lips and continued examining the crime scene.

Now back to why someone would shoot a TV and why someone was found dead in their flat.

In front of the TV was the body, gun right beside the hand. The TV wasn't meant to be shot, the bullet just went through the head. And the lady, no older than forty, was face down on the ground. Stone cold dead.

"What do you guys suspect?" Emma asked the group of police.

"Suicide. Shot herself between the eyes, bullet went through the back of her head and into the TV, where she then fell forward", the main inspector said.

"You aren't usually right with these things, are you?" Emma asked again.

"No... Not usually", the main inspector said sadly.

"Well, you are right. Technically. Just change all your notes to fit a murder." She walked over to the body and pulled the head up by the woman's hair, showing the bullet wound. "She was shot between the eyes and the bullet hits the TV while she falls to the ground. But where's the bullet? It should be in the TV but it isn't. You all just assumed and never checked."

She dropped the woman's head and stood up, walking towards the TV.
"Apple TV and an Apple Watch. But she lives in an inexpensive flat. Why? Where is she getting the money that she needs to hide it? No expensive clothes or shoes or purses or jewellery-- only an expensive TV and watch."

She looked over at Sherlock, who seemed to be amused.

"But does that really matter? Because I got something wrong and no one noticed. That shows that you're not paying attention to the right things. This TV, it's not an Apple product. So if that wasn't expensive, she has no expensive clothes, shoes, purses, or jewellery..." She went back to the lady and picked up her wrist. "Why does she have an Apple Watch?"

Sherlock smiled and the main inspector looked confused.

"Who are you?", the inspector asked.

"I'm Emma. Who are you?"