10. On the Road to Infamy

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10. On the Road to Infamy

            For the first few days, I scouted out Baker Street to see if I could catch John Watson stopping by. Literally, I’d stand near a corner on the opposite sidewalk, pretending to do different things while looking for him. The first two days didn’t give me any luck, which frustrated me. The only results I got were horny guys trying to ask for my number. I’d thought about having some fun with them. I mean, hey, they didn’t know who they’d be dealing with. I could have possibly killed them, that would definitely catch Sherlock’s attention, but I wasn’t after his family—I was after his blogger’s.

            Today marked day four of scouting out 221B Baker Street. I was glad nobody noticed how I spent days on end in the same exact spot minus the times I had to leave to go eat or use the bathroom. People were so oblivious to things sometimes. I wonder if Sherlock’s noticed my pattern yet. He’s got to have better things to do than notice a killer watching his flat.

            I’d spent all day doing nothing, with the occasional checking my phone. Since Jim had his own things to do, I left him alone. He didn’t like to be interrupted when it came to work; I learned that the hard way once. I never again made that mistake.

            Once night had settled in, London’s nightlife came out. Lights lit up the city, giving it a beautiful makeover. It looked much better at night than it did during the day. During the day it was mostly dreary with barely any sun to be seen.

            I looked across the street again, only to find success. Finally. Lithely, I grabbed my pocketknife and put the blade out. I could see the duo now, hailing for a cab. I wasn’t going to let them speed off into the night, I wasn’t up for staking out Baker Street another minute. I looked around, quickly selecting a victim. The only way I could get their attention was by causing a scene, and nothing caused a scene like a stabbing.

            I detached myself from the wall, walking in the opposite direction that many people were. Once I located my prey—a middle-aged, graying man—I took action swiftly. I delivered a low stab to his abdomen. He cried out in pain. As I removed the knife, he buckled to the ground. I walked away without a backward glance, hearing panicked voices behind me.

            From the corner of my eye, I saw Sherlock and John hurry across the street all while trying to avoid getting run over by traffic. I smiled. Time to leave a trail. I picked the person closest to me—a young woman—and struck at her. I let the knife stay in her just a bit longer before I yanked it out. Her cries were louder.

Another breadcrumb to the trail.

Come on, chase me already. I thought of the chip that was in my other pocket. Jim had given that to me after I told him what I planned to do. It hadn’t been hard to get the tracking chip. Whether or not he paid a price for it or killed someone to get it, as long as I had it and could place it on John Watson successfully, I didn’t care how he got it.

I picked my third victim—a rather striking young man. It was a shame I had to stab him just to leave more of a trail for the consulting detective and his blogger to follow. Oh well, wrong place at the wrong time, I thought nonchalantly. You’re in my way.

“Help!” cried a high-pitched voice. “That woman there stabbed him! She went that way!”

I didn’t even look back as I broke into a sprint. I wielded the knife still, slicing into people along the way. Let’s see how many people I’ll wound or kill just to get their attention. I should have gotten it at that party. This will definitely get me noticed more. Hopefully I’m not The American after tonight.

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