Born in Black and White

Chapter 30

Sherlock was most perturbed.

He spent most of his morning when not with Kairi, down at Scotland Yard interviewing the family and friends of the murder victim. Judging by the victim's file, these were the people who had the most likely reason to murder Daniel Barnes. He also went through the dead officer's arrest list and narrowed down suspects to only a few recently released criminals. He had interviewed them as well and it lead to nothing. Sherlock felt as if his mind were reeling.

The evidence was going nowhere and it was absolutely infuriating. People either had absolute alibis for the time of death or no evidence to indicate they had been the person to stab and maim and dismember the victim. Sherlock was irate at this point. The case was at a standstill and he had done everything in his investigative power to uncover any sliver of evidence that would indicate the contrary.

He had wasted his morning gabbing with useless individuals who had no importance to the case and it drove him mad. He was vibrating as he paced through the halls of Scotland Yard, shushing out the din around him and focusing on what he knew.

From his most recent bout of interviews and re-examination of the evidence he came to the conclusion that the victim was somehow incapacitated while being tied and staked to render him immobile. However, Molly's testing had revealed no known anesthetic or drug in his system. The body was clean of all trace evidence, not even a fiber, not a drop of spittle, nothing. It was driving Sherlock into delirium. The absolute efficiency and perfection that the recently dubbed Sandman had demonstrated was something that fascinated him. He re-watched the video in his mind, seeing Daniel Barnes struggle and gurgle against his captor's exercise in depravity, the murderer's hands moving fluidly, without hesitation. The movements were practiced, exact, and almost beautiful in their implementation. Sherlock had the realization that he must have done this before, he must have experience in surgery, but he was exhausting the idea of it being a medical professional. Any person with a relation to the victim who also had medical expertise were not on his list of suspects. To be honest, he had no list of suspects. The idea of someone new, of someone random and interesting tickled him in his own dark way.

There was something nagging at the back of his mind that was plaguing him, blocking him from seeing the full picture. The murderer was intelligent, crafty, able to disassemble a body with ease while also being able to manipulate a computer on a very similar plane of expertise to Kairi.

It bothered him most that he was being taunted and toyed with and left with almost nothing to grasp at. In the case of serial killers, which Sherlock had no doubt the Sandman would become, they always slipped up somehow, but it was usually not until they began to grow bored with their victims. The Sandman was only just starting.

On the other hand, Sherlock was giddy with the prospect of a new and exciting killer that was actually a challenge. He detested the boring domestics or the passion driven slaughters, because of money and greed. He wanted to be challenged again, he wanted to be surprised. The Sandman was proving to be most surprising, but Sherlock still felt a hint of distaste and disappointment. The explosion and the video still nagged him. There was something odd about the fact that The Sandman was trying to reach out to him and John.

He still wanted to believe it was Moran, toying with them, but Kairi had been correct in her assessment, Moran did not fit the evidence presented. The Sandman seemed to be pleased with the killing, reveling in the blood and gore. He wanted the challenge, he wanted to beat Sherlock just like everyone else failed to do. Moran, however, did everything for Kairi. This thought burned him to the core, but he focused his attentions back on The Sandman. Moran had been thankfully absent since the incident with the stuffed dog. Sherlock hoped he would stay that way.