The Clown, the Drug Ring, and the Wardrobe
Chapter IIFlorence had just gotten to her future flat to get settled when she was greeted by the unpleasant sight of her soon to be landlord with a bullet hole to his head. Thinking that she was doing the right thing, she called the police only to find out that they jumped to conclusions faster than her former-superiors at the cybercrimes sector ever did. That bloody woman, Donovan, had turned everyone against her in a matter of minutes. Flo had hoped that she could clear things up and call her brother to tell him that she could not make it. She never would have guessed that she would run into him at the crime scene. “John?” She asked in disbelief.
Her brother held one of her hands and pushed a bit of her wheat colored hairs away from her face, “What happened? You’re supposed to be at the café right now.”
“Wait, wait! You know her?” Lestrade asked trying to pull him away. He turned around to ask for assistance when he saw Sherlock with a small smile on his face. “Oi Holmes! Why are you smiling?”
Sherlock, who had also been asking how exactly his flat mate knew the suspect, began deducing her and came to the right conclusion in a matter of seconds.
“Don’t you see it?” Sherlock gave a small laugh, “You did ask for her name, no?”
Donovan nodded, “Yeah, it’s Florence Wat- oh.”
A silence fell in the room as they realized her relation to John.
That uncomfortable silence was broken by Florence who, unlike the other normal people in the room, stared at Sherlock with wide eyes, “How?”
Sherlock was more than happy to show off and began spitting out his observations, “It was quiet easy really. John’s protective nature towards her could be explained if she was either his date or a relative. Since she seems to be in her mid-twenties, the possibility of being his date was not valid according to her lipstick.”
“Her lipstick?” Anderson spoke out.
“Do shut up.” Sherlock said before continuing, “She’s reapplied it recently to go meet John, as he previously stated. But, notice the amount; enough to look presentable but not enough to attract male attention. And then there’s the family resemblance same blond hair, bone structure, same eyes…” He paused as he looked at them. There was something going on behind them, a look that suggested something that he knew was not shared by the siblings. “You’re deducing me, Ms. Watson.”
Her green eyes, that had turned cold and calculating as she deduced him, sparkled when she looked up. “Yes, yes I am.”
John’s grip on his sister’s hand loosened a bit. As a child, Flo had powerful observation skills. They worked wonders, along with her natural brilliance, in the classroom and in more “unconventional” situations. He knew he had not seen her in a while but her skill could not have turned into full-blown-Sherlock-deduction in that time.
Instead of staring in disbelief like the others in the room, Sherlock looked with interest at the girl. The fact that someone related to Watson could be even remotely like him was incredible; he had to see her ability himself. “What can you deduce about me, Ms. Watson?” He challenged.
She smirked. Challenging me, eh? She thought. Flo looked around at her audience: her brother, approximately 6 police officers, members of the forensic team, and the man who had challenged her. Well you’re in for a show.
She did not struggle at standing up and was not even a bit intimidated when Sherlock walked up to her, even though he was about 3 inches taller.
“M’kay,” She began slowly before her feet began pacing and the whirl wind of information came out of her mouth.
“Let’s start with the basics. From what I’ve heard your name is Sherlock, no middle name, Holmes. A consulting detective, it’s the only name I can think of for position in assisting the police force. A detective who just so happens to live with my brother, I can tell because you both have similar marks on your shoes that suggest this. This makes me wonder,” She tapped a foot lightly as she thought, “Why doesn’t Sherlock just live with his own brother if he’s looking for a place to live? But it’s obvious that you two don’t get along otherwise you might’ve answered his last 3 calls to your cell in your coat pocket. Back to my brother then,” Flo continued noticing she struck a slight nerve, “your attitude towards him and the way he reacts to it shows that you haven’t known each other long yet you treat him as though he has always been part of your life.”
She muttered, “An interesting relationship that I’ll ponder later… but he puts up with your eccentric habits like your experiments, the ones that involve nasty chemicals that can stain the inside of one’s coat while working on a desk. I’ll assume another eccentric habit is playing the violin at early hours. Your fingers; the light callouses on your fingertips match those found on a violinist and my brother has some awful bags under his eyes. ”
After finishing this explanation she turned to Sherlock who had a satisfied look on his face. Her deductions had a rather different effect on the others in the room.
The forensic team and lower police officers shamelessly stared at her while Donovan and Lestrade gaped a little. Her brother was caught between shock and pride. Though she approached the challenge with full intention to wow everyone in the room, she was now beginning to feel awkward under their judging gazes. “It really only works if I get a good look at someone.” She clarified.
At that comment Donovan groaned, “Great another freak! Just when I thought I was dealing with a normal murderer.”
“You’d better watch it. She’s my sister; not a freak, not a murderer!” John said defending her.
His sister, however, had dealt with idiots like Donovan before, and lucky for her she had. She observe Sergeant when Donovan was trying to convince the others that she had murdered Mr. Gaffen.
“Please have the courtesy to, at least, act like you respect me before I make everyone aware that you’re ‘scrubbing floors’ for co-workers. You did a great job at Anderson’s didn’t you?” She said. Flo looked over to Anderson who had an offended look on his face, “Didn’t she Anderson? Her knees show that she worked rather hard….”
John tried to contain his giggles; they were at a crime scene after all. “Y-you’re brilliant!”
“Yes she is,” Sherlock responded, “far too brilliant to actually be caught committing this crime.” He pointed at the pile of checkered suitcases that Anderson and his team were ravaging. “If you check the papers around the handles of the suitcases, you’ll see that she arrived at about quarter past one…”
“Giving her the perfect amount of time to drive here from the airport, kill Mr. Gaffen, and leave so she could come back later and act as though she just found the body.” Anderson interrupted, now driven to get the girl arrested for her implications about his relationship with Donovan.
“Yes you would come to that conclusion but what you forget is the jumper.” said Sherlock.
“The jumper? What’s that got to do with this?” Donovan was now speaking with the same purpose as Anderson.
Sherlock made his way to the smallest case, with red and blue checkers, and crouched down before putting on some gloves. He pulled out a stripped beige jumper by its sleeve that had been hanging out of one of the outer pockets, “You see this jumper, and it’s not a woman’s.”
“She could’ve just packed one of her boyfriend’s jumpers.” Anderson tried to reason earning him a loud laugh from Flo. She had never been very social in her life; both as a habit and because people around her never seemed to be able to carry out an intelligent conversation. So, having a boyfriend was not a possibility.
Anderson did not seem to get it, “Aren’t you in a relationship?”
“No” both Flo and Sherlock answered at the same time which John responded by raising his eyebrow at his flat mate. He just shrugged and continued to explain, “So it’s not her boyfriend and it’s not hers. It must be a gift for the other man in her life.” Everyone looked at John who shifted his weight uncomfortably and cleared his throat, “Thanks, Flo.”
“So if you see the receipt,” Sherlock said as he pulled out the paper from inside the jumper, “You’ll know that Ms. Watson bought the jumper at a local store that is about…” In just a few seconds he managed to do the math, “47 minutes from here, without traffic, at 3pm.”
Flo smiled and finished off Sherlock’s speech, “I was still driving when Mr. Gaffen was killed.”
Lestrade was at a loss for words for a moment, “Uh, well. We’re sorry Ms. Watson for-“
“Yes the misunderstanding. It’s fine just please get me out of these things.” She finished for him and held out her still bound wrists. Unfortunately, Donovan had the keys and roughly removed the cuffs from her wrists. When that was done, Sherlock sighed and threw a pair of gloves to each sibling. “Now let’s get to work shall we.”
The Watsons were just beginning to put on their gloves when Anderson spoke up, “Wait, wait, wait a minute! We just suspected her of murder and we’re letting her near evidence!”
“Don’t worry,” Sherlock said making his way to the stairs, “she won’t hold it against you.”