The boys upstairs

Macbeth

"So are you two going out?"

Watson splutters and Sherlock looks confused.

"Yes" says Sherlock at the same time John says "no" they look at each other in surprise before John, a little flustered, says "she means dating, not going out on a trip"

"Oh. Then no" says Sherlock bluntly. There is a small pause. "Here we are"

You all climb out of the cab, stepping onto the curb at the entrance of a school. It hadn't yet occurred to you that you were about to see a dead child. Naturally you've seen dead people before but never a child. From his heavy breathing you gather John feels the same way. Sherlock, apparently unfazed, holds the police tape up for you to duck under which you do, following him to what you think will be a classroom but transpires to be a school library.

You tune the boys out as they discuss and argue alternatively with a police officer you assume to be Lestrade, instead focusing on the small body at your feet. She can't be older than sixteen, a small thing sporting two blonde Dutch braids with little baby hairs escaping and a shiny new black puffer coat. For a moment you stare. It's like you can't look away. Her eyes are only half closed, a very deep brown from the look of it. She has only been dead a matter of hours but she is long gone. You stare some more.

"Are you alright?" That's Watson, standing a little behind you. You hear a door shut and you know it's just you three and the girl. You shake your head and Watson nods understandingly. "I'd be more concerned if you were"

"Right" says a loud voice behind you and you jump, suddenly remembering where you are.

Sherlock leans down and begins to examine the body. He is thorough yet respectful, and there is silence as he works. When he straightens up he is frowning and shuffling around on his knees.

"Where's her bag?"

You and Watson exchange glances.

"Her school bag, she didn't go home- she should have her school bag" he adds exasperatedly. You do a quick search of the library and find it at a desk in the far corner. She was doing English, reading Macbeth and annotating the extracts. You smile and carry it to the boys.

"... newly pierced ears, slightly red and swollen- she was an outsider doing her best to keep up with her peers. Her braids are too tight and her jewellery regularly removed for sport. Parents alive and well but no siblings... Trauma to her neck but no finger marks so fabric was used, about six centimetres in width. Curtains? Too far away. Coat? Clothes? No no I'm missing something... so the killer brought the cloth with him, something small, undetectable and not out of place in a school like a... like a... tie! Like a man's tie... yes ok what else..." he continues to mutter frantically as you watch in fascination.

You expected you could probably shoot Watson and Sherlock wouldn't notice. Then again, you note as you see John's small attentive smile, maybe not. And a gun would make a loud noise...

"John" You hiss and he snaps back, focusing on you. "Does the school bell ring after the school day?" You say urgently and he furrows his brow.

"I shouldn't think so" he says, slightly alarmed. You relax and both of you turn back to Sherlock who is smiling.

"Okay she's dead- I know when and how but not why. Why murder a child? What did she do?" It is then that he spots you again.

"(Y/n)- what was she doing in here after school for three hours?"

"Revising" You answer simply, handing him the play.

"Macbeth... what page was she on?"

"84" you answer automatically, showing the bent spine and dog-eared page. Sherlock nods and flips, beginning to read at speed.

"It's not annotated" he comments and you blink. "She only got up to page 13... 84. Could this be a clue? The killer turned to page 84 for a reason... I need anything in here with reference to 84"

"No" you say as he goes to attack the bookshelf full of numbers. They both pause and you think. "It's not the number, it's the passage" and then you begin to read from memory. "Out damned spot! Out, I say! One, two. Why then 'tis Time to do't. Hell is murky. Fie, my Lord, fie, a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? Yet who would have thought the old man to have so much blood in him?" You recite, visualising the page and reading absently. You finish to silence and they continue to stare.

"That might be more impressive than your deduction Sherlock" says Watson smugly and you grin. Sherlock scowls and rolls his eyes.

"She's got a photographic memory" he says, breaking into a small smile as you bite your lip. Actually you were trying not to advertise that.

"Yeah... well" you say but the frowns are back.

"You're right, it's the passage- Lady Macbeth scene five, act one. She sleep talks in guilt, but everything is wrong. There is no blood on the body... oh" he says in quiet realisation, but you are lost.

"Ohh" he says, running his hand through his hair and twitching excitedly. "Everything is wrong... (Y/n) what was that bit about fear?"

You swallow. "What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?"

"Yes he's mocking us... out damned spot- there's no blood on the body.... None can call our power to account- he anticipates no consequences.... Man- that's a girl.... 'Lady Macbeth'- our killer is a male... hell is murky- interesting, a skewed moral compass... PSYCHOPATH" he bellows suddenly and you and John jump. "Perhaps not... but he's cocky. And he makes mistakes" he's grinning again and so is John.

"Watson clears his throat, having been quiet for a while. "If he has no morality then he will do this again, but why? What does he gain from murdering a teenager and using her studies to demonstrate his intellect?"

"Oh Watson... everything. He's showing off. Being clever and despicable. He needed to get the right people on his case- and the right people are you and me apparently. He's been clever enough and despicable enough to do all this just to get my attention. And he's got it."

"The game?" Says Watson suggestively while you raise an eyebrow. Sherlock is smiling properly now, blue eyes alive and coat dashing as he turns to walk away. But not before growling over his shoulder-

"Oh it's on"