MARIA - A Sherlock Fanfic

Politics

“Who’s this?” Sherlock asked, pulling out and uncovering the body directly in front of the mirror.
“I, uh…” Molly began, looking between Lestrade and John.
“Quickly,” Sherlock said. He had a case now, and he couldn’t stand waiting for stupid people.
“Ah…A Mister John Pearce. I don’t know much about him, I think he’s a politian?” she finished.
Sherlock sighed. “Let’s start simple then, shall we, Molly? Cause of death?”
“Pills. Poison. Sorry. Um. He killed himself. With pills.”
“Suicide? Hmm. No. That’s not right. What am I missing?” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. This wasn’t an ordinary death. Maria wouldn’t break into a hospital just for fun. There was a purpose. What did he have so far? A mirror and a note. The mirror. It looked heavier than it was. It weighed less than it looked. Something clicked. “The message,” Sherlock said, snapping his fingers. “Read it back to me.”
“Sherlock, sorry for the wait! Don’t- ”John read off.
“See!” Sherlock said, opening his eyes. “Sorry for the wait.”
“Well, it has been three-”
“Please shut up Lestrade, I’m thinking. A mass murderer doesn’t just apologise for a wait. She doesn’t just break the pattern of leaving just her name to say she’s sorry. No, it’s a clue. Wait. Weight. Do you see?” he asked, excitedly bouncing on his heels. He looked between the three. “No, I didn’t think you would. Weight! The man’s weight has something to do with this. Molly, his weight?”
“I don’t remember. 180lbs? I think?”
“Molly, you are being less than useless right now.”
“No, no. I’m sure. 180lbs. Anna, the new girl, was saying how rare it was for someone to be exactly 180…”
“180….” Sherlock repeated. “No, that can’t be it. That’s normal, for someone who looks like him…. Wait! Molly. Back a bit. You said he was a politian?”
“Um, yes, I think so.”
“A politian. For someone whose job is all about appearances…” he trailed off. “Got it! I’ve got it! Don’t you see?”
They gave him blank looks.
“He’s a politian. His whole job is to look good. And look at him. Who’s to say that he didn’t feel that losing a few pounds would be good for his image? But he couldn’t just start going to the gym, could he? No, no, he’d want something high tech, something cutting edge. All gain, no pain. So what does he do? He buys some of those dieting pills, you know, the ones that inflate in your stomach and all that. What he doesn’t realise is, someone’s switched the bottles! What he thinks is an easy weight loss solution, is really a murder weapon!”
There was a silence.
And then Sherlock’s phone rang.