His Favorite Melody

Details

Melody and Sherlock stood in Van Coon's office, looking around in hopes of finding some sort of clue. Eddie's desk was as sparse as his flat, with no personal items, just a few magazines, and a London A to Z on the corner of the desk. Eddie's PA, Amanda is with them, punching passwords into Eddie's computer. Her hair was fastened back with a little green hair pin, which Melody admired. It was unique and looked quite nice. A gift perhaps?

Eddie's calendar popped up, drawing Mel's attention away from the pin. A note in the calendar said 'DALIAN' - marking a trip lasting three days.

"Flew back from Dalian, Friday. Looks like he had back to back meetings with the sales team." Amanda said as she pressed 'Print' - making a copy of the diary for pair.

"What about the day he died? Can you tell me where he was?" the Detective questioned.

"Sorry. There's a bit of a gap."

On the computer screen there was a large blank space in an otherwise crowded diary.

Amanda's face suddenly lit up - an idea! "I've got all his receipts!"

__________________________________________________________________________________

Dimmock rooted through a file of evidence, John standing silently behind him.

"Your friend..." the Inspector started.

"Hey - whatever you say - I'm a hundred per cent behind you." John assured him.

"He's an arrogant sod."

"Oh. That was mild. People say a lot worse than that."

"Yeah, well, I've decided to take the advice of your friend and give him a chance."

"Yeah, well, Lestrade is used to him."

"No, not Lestrade. The girl. Sherlock's girlfriend. She said to give him a chance and God help me, I trust her. She seems like she keeps him in check." Dimmock said as he offered John a pocket diary. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? The journalist's diary."

John took it and opens it to see an aeroplane ticket tucked inside with the airport name printed in all caps: 'DALIAN'.

Sherlock, Melody, and Amanda stood staring at Eddie's receipts for the week, which were spread across the desk. Taxis; meals; buses; trains-everything was there. Sherlock stared - trying to get a sense of the man's life. Posh restaurants, countless expensive bar bills, new suits, Eddie Van Coon seemed to spare no expense.

"What sort of boss was he, Amanda? Appreciative?"

A wry smile appeared on her face at the question. "Err... no. I don't think that's the word I would use. The only things that Eddie appreciated had a big price tag."

"Like that hand cream. He bought that for you, didn't he?"

Amanda seemed utterly disconcerted by this.

Melody shuffled the receipts around like a card game, trying to get them in order.

"Look there. He took a cab from home the day he died. Eighteen pounds fifty." Sherlock noticed, pointing to a particular receipt.

"That would get him into the office."

"It wasn't rush hour. Check the time. Mid-morning. Eighteen would get him as far as..."

"The West End! I remember him saying."

Mel found a train ticket amongst the receipts. "Underground. Printed at one. In Piccadilly."