"God help me." He continued.
"Amy." I said, bringing her back to attention as Sherlock called to Watson.
They both looked at Greg.
"Oh, do as he says. Help yourself." Greg sighed, leaving disgruntled.
Amy walked around the body.
"Boy is she rich..." She mumbled, as Sherlock and John had their little dialogue.
"Once we leave here I'm going to need you to pick up a few things for me."
I asked her, sending her the list.
"Like what?"
"I sent it to you." I explained as her phone dinged a second after. She checked the list and scoffed.
"Six Toblerones?! Do they even have those here?" She exclaimed.
"If they don't find something else. This is most definitely a six Toblerone problem." I responded, giving John space as we waited for him.
"Yeah, asphyxiation probably." He said, getting up with a psychosomatic limp.
War Doctor then...
I thought to myself, his limp confirming my thoughts.
He has a slight tan, no war Doctor gets a slight tan if they're a local... Afghanistan then.
John continued to babble on until Greg asked what we had. I turned to him, speaking.
"The victim is in her late thirties professional going by her clothes-"
"Probably something in the media going by the frankly, alarming shade of pink." Sherlock said, challenging me this time.
I clenched my jaw as he started to speak again.
"Traveled-"
"She traveled here from Cardiff today and intended to stay one night." I interrupted loudly.
I continued, "Obvious from the size-"
"Of her suit case." We said at the same time, looking at each other, and glaring.
"Suitcase?!" Greg asked us.
"Yes suitcase," Sherlock continued shortly, obviously angry with me but not trying to show it, attempting to make me look second rate to him. "She's been married for at least Ten years-"
"Unhappily married might I add and-" I interrupted.
"She had a string of lovers. None of them knew she was married." He said, getting the last word in like he always does.
Greg smiled. "For gods sake if you two are just making this up-"
I started to turn from Sherlock, kneeling on the floor next to her "Number one: her wedding ring," I started, taking out my black pointing stick that I use for cases, "it's Ten years old at least and it shows. All the rest of her jewelry has been cleaned regularly but not her wedding ring the state of her marriage is right there, Number two:-"
"The inside of the ring is shinier then the outside that means it's regularly removed the only polishing it gets is when She works it off her finger-" Sherlock said, kneeling on the left side of her as I stared daggers at him.
"Speaking of work Number three: she doesn't work with her hands so what does or rather who does she remove her rings for-" I continued getting up.
"Clearly not one lover she'd never sustain the fiction of being single for that amount of time so more likely-"
"A string of them, simple." I smiled, finally having the last word and seeing how uncomfortable it made him feel.
