Miss Moriarty is Holmes!

Chapter 7: Beer with Greg

The previous chapter will probably be my longest chapter (Since it contains 3K plus words, my usual chapter contains 1 or 2K...so it's new and I must try harder. And it contains 7 pages!)

By the way, who's the actress playing Joan Moriarty if you were to decide, folks?

( Sherlock's POV)

Three of us stood outside the house, making conclusions and theories as well after we saw the victim of the dead man in the bath tub drowned in the water and her own blood. We were too late for it. But people die everyday anyway.

Several hours ago, I studied the body very well, getting details and ignoring her almost naked body in the blood-painted water. Also, I did study the whole place.

Her eyes and mouth were opened, seems like she was looking at me with a shock expression printed on her pale face for the last minutes of her life.

Clothes were ripped off, too much force from the man. He drags her to the tub and stabs her then turns on the faucet which explains why he's not wet. I turned my head around and spotted a towel with small blood soaked in its cloth. He wiped the tiny blood that splattered in his face and several body parts and hears someone above, shouting. He threw the towel and exited to this place. I shook my head and paused. With the knife or not? There comes the flaw. And I'm stucked.

"Sherlock." Ella's voice slapped me to reality. I turned my head to face her and Greg after I rewind the scene, ending in a question. They were standing there, waiting for my opinion. It was dark already.

"Something's obviously fishy and wrong." I finally declared. Greg and Ella nodded their heads in agreement.
"Yes. I'm quite confused with the knife and the blood. It doesn't make sense." She said, nibbling the skin of her fingertips. She's frustrated, lacking details for the case. I deduced.

"There was a cult under the house, the man murders the woman and tries to take his life."

"But was interrupted by his friend?" Greg asked.

"Seems so." I agreed.

"He was interrupted by the calling of his friend while or after he murders her. But how can he even hear when it's even hard for us to hear the water rushing below? My, this is quite confusing. The floor above is thicker. Also, how his friend knew? Peculiar, isn't it?" Greg added.

We were so exasperate with the answers. Thinking deep and digging in very deep thoughts.

"Ella, how did you form a conclusion same as mine about the supposedly 'accidental suicidal'?" I suddenly asked her.

"The man is divorced and alone, which one of its suggestions to me was probably depressed. I don't get the knife, though. How it bothers me that much. He wasn't beaten up but his neckline was wrinkled by grabbing and pulling. He still has the pictures of him and his wife---the one who was murdered by the victim. Victim's victim--- at the table and cabinets. So, he misses her terribly---it supports the idea of depressed..." She trails off and paused. "Do you want me to continue?"

"Exactly." I smiled.

"Exactly what, Sherlock?"

"We have the same thoughts and ideas. Same thoughts as well in different words. Thank you for explaining."

She shot me a smile that says 'No problem'.

"So, this means?"Greg asked, raising his shoulders up and down, definitely not getting the point that Ella and I effortlessly conclude.