Melody stood next to the river as Sherlock, John, and Greg huddled around a body. She had seen several signs for an unveiling of a painting recently, so she kept to the side and scrolled on her phone, looking for information on it. Everything she fou d in every article seemed perfect. A bit...too perfect. Something about the whole thing seemed to scream 'fake'.
She took her chance when there seemed to be a lull in the conversation, and approached the men, smiling widely. "Not quite sure what you lot are chatting about, but I’ll tell you one thing. That lost Vermeer painting is a fake."
After a beat, Lestrade looked at her in mild confusion, qnd voiced a single word- "What?".
"Agreed. We'll certainly slide that into our investigation." Sherlock nod before turning back to the others. "We need to identify the corpse. Find out who his friends and associates are -."
"Wait, wait! What painting? What’re you two on about?" Lestrade pressed.
Melody held up her phone to show Greg her research.
"It’s all over the place. Haven’t you seen the posters? Dutch Old Master. It was supposed to have been destroyed centuries ago and now it’s miraculously turned up. Apparently it's worth thirty million pounds or so."
"Ok. So....What’s that got to do with the stiff?"
"Everything." Sherlock replied excitedly.
"Wait, really?" Melody asked in mild surprise.
"Yes. Don't sound so surprised. You're rather smart, you know?" Sherlock said, brow raised. "Have any of you ever heard of the Golem?"
"Golem?" Greg inquired.
"It’s a horror story, isn’t it? What are you saying?" John questioned.
"The Jewish folk-story of the gigantic man made of clay?" Melody offered.
"It’s also the name of an assassin. Real name Oskar Dzundza. One of the deadliest assassins in the world." Sherlock informed them before gesturing at the corpse. "That’s his trademark style."
"This was a hit?" Lestrade asked in awe.
"Definitely. The Golem squeezes the breath out of his victims with his bare hands."
"What’s this got to do with that painting? I don’t see -."
"You do see. You just don’t observe."
"All right, girls. Keep calm. Sherlock? Wanna take us through it?" John asked, intervening before an argument broke out.
Sherlock nod and straightened up, obviously enjoying himself. "What do we know about this corpse? The killer’s not left us with much. Just shirt and trousers. They’re pretty formal - maybe he was going out for the night. But the trousers are heavy duty. Polyester. Nasty. Shirt’s the same. Cheap. And they’re both too big for him. So, some kind of standard issue uniform. Dressed for work, then. But what work? There’s a loop on his belt. Must be for a walkie-talkie."
"Tube driver?" Greg guessed.
Sherlock pulled a face.
"Security guard?" John decided.
"More likely. That’d be borne out by his backside." Sherlock confirmed.
"His backside?" Mel gawked.
"Flabby. You’d think he led a sedentary life - yet the soles of his feet and the nascent varicose veins in his legs say otherwise. So, a lot of walking and a lot of sitting around. Security guard’s looking good." Sherlock confirmed.
John smiled, pleased with himself. Melody smiled widely and gave him a small high five.
"And the watch helps. The alarm shows he did regular night shifts." Sherlock continued.
YOU ARE READING
His Favorite Melody
FanfictionMelody Hudson. Not only was she an excellent assistant to the worlds only Consulting Detective, but she was one of the only people who knew exactly who he was when he thought no one was around. She was the Melody he couldn't get out of his head. His...
