His Favorite Melody

You Would Be Surprised

I do not own Sherlock, nor any of it's characters. I only own Melody, and any content not in the Series.

"We're obviously looking at a suicide." Dimmock announced as he rounded the sofa.

"It does seem the only explanation of the facts." John agreed, nodding his head.

"Wrong. It's one possible explanation of some of the facts. You've got a solution that you like... but you're just choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn't comply with it." Sherlock contradicted, causing Melody to throw him a cautious glance. They didn't know this new inspector, but she was pretty sure he already disliked Sherlock.

"Like?" the young DI questioned.

"The wound is on the right side of his head."

"And?"

"Van Coon was left-handed, wasn't he?" Melody piped in. Everything in the flat had pointed to that being the case.

Sherlock mimed shooting himself in the right temple with his left hand, trying to give them a visual. "You're correct. Requires a bit of contortion, though."

"Left-handed?" Dimmock questioned.

"I'm amazed you didn't notice. Melody, would you like to share with everyone what you observed when you looked around this flat?" Sherlock asked, causing the other two men to turn and face her.

Her eyes widened, and her face turned beet red as she looked up at the curly-haired detective. "Uhm, right. Well, there are tea stains from the bottom of mugs where he's been resting them on the left arm of that chair. Pad and paper are on the left side of his phone, probably so he could hold it in his right hand and take messages with his left. And the butter knife on the kitchen surface has butter on the right side of the blade because he used it with his left." She said, pointing at each thing as she explained it.

Sherlock simply looked at her with a proud grin on his face. She had caught everything possible. The only other thing was in the bedroom, where she hadn't gone. "Want me to go on?" Sherlock asked, smirking at the Detective Inspector.

John sensed the man's irritation. "Err, no. I think you've covered it."

"I might as well actually. There's only one left on the list since Miss Hudson did such a marvelous job at observing her surroundings. All his expensive, favourite suits on the left side of his wardrobe, because he'd open the left-hand door...Unlikely that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the right side of the head. Conclusion: someone broke in and murdered him. Only explanation of all of the facts."

"But the gun..." Dimmock replied in mild confusion.

"He was waiting for the killer. He'd been threatened."

"What?"

"Today at the bank. A sort of a warning." John spoke up.

"He fired when his attacker came in." Sherlock continued.

"And the bullet...?" Dimmock pressed.

"Went out the window."

"Oh, come on! What are the chances of that?"

"Wait for the pathologist's report. The bullet in his brain wasn't fired from his gun, I guarantee."

"But if his door was locked from the inside... how did the killer get in?"

"Good. You're finally asking the right questions."

With that, Sherlock walked away, leaving John, Mel, and the Detective standing around in an awkward huddle. Mel flashed the Inspector an apologetic smile, before grabbing John's hand and pulling him along so that they could catch up with Sherlock.