Sherlock Imagine-Just Friends (Book 1)

Part 8

You stood in the bedroom of Eddie Van Coon with your arms crossed looking down at the body.

"You think it's a suicide." Sherlock stated as he came up behind you.

"It's possible. If the message at the bank was intended for him, it could have been a death threat. He could have come home and locked the doors behind him. He might have wanted out and he saw that this was his only option." you explained.

"But?" Sherlock saw the hesitation inside of you.

"But, something about that doesn't seem quite right." You looked around the room for an answer, but found nothing. You knew that something was wrong with this picture, but you weren't sure what it was. You sighed. "Well, it's obviously not a suicide. But how?" you asked.

"He was left-handed." he answered with a satisfied smile. You looked at him waiting for an explanation. "The phone." he started and pointed at the phone on the side table. "The pen and paper are on the left side so he can hold the phone with his right hand and write with his other. There's a knife and butter in the kitchen, butter on the right side of the blade meaning he used his left hand to spread it." he explained.

You looked back down at the body. The bullet wound was in the right side of his head. "So why would a left-handed man shoot himself on the right side of his head." you said and nodded.

Sherlock went about his business and began to examine the body and the room.

"Gone three days judging by the laundry." Sherlock said. "Look at this. Something was tightly packed inside." he told John as he entered the room.

"Yea, thanks, I'll take your word for it." John replied.

"Problem?" Sherlock asked.

"Yea well I'm not keen to rouche around some bloke's dirty underwear." John answered.

Sherlock continued his business about the room. He pulled a black piece of folded paper from the mouth of the body. You took a plastic evidence bag from your things and handed it to him. He took it from your hands and placed the piece of paper inside without even looking at you.

"Excuse me." you heard from behind you.

You, John, and Sherlock all spun around to find a complete stranger standing in the doorway.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't tamper with the evidence." he said with a tone of authority.

"Ah, Sergeant. Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said and handed the bag over to him. You looked at the new face with curiosity.

"Yea, I know who you are. And it's not Sergeant. It's Detective Inspector Dimmock." he answered.

"Well, Detective Inspector, I'm afraid that this one is for me to handle." you replied with the same tone of authority in your voice.

"And just why is that?" he asked.

"Detective Inspector Watson." you said and held out your hand for him to shake.

"Ah, you're the other one. Lestrade told me there would be." he said, rejecting your hand.

"Then he must have also told you that when he is away I am the one in charge around here. So I would suggest that you show a little more respect." you said, pulling away your hand without looking the least bit embarrassed.

Dimmock clenched his jaw as a sign of defeat. "Of course Miss Watson." he said, hatred filling his voice.

You rolled your shoulders back slightly to make you look and feel more powerful. Dimmock handed the evidence bag over to you and left the room.

"Well," Sherlock started. "That was quite a show." he commented with a proud kind of look on his face.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "Shut up and do your job."