Chapter Text
“The three corpses were found on Wednesday during the excavation of Mr. Bradley’s newest property acquisition. The corpses have been identified as male and range in age from fourteen to seventeen. Nothing further has been said at this time.”
John shut off the television and turned to Sherlock. He watched Sherlock’s lips move silently for a few moments before clearing his throat. When that got no response, he cleared his throat again… an again… and again, until he finally got a response; though, in all honesty, it wasn’t really the response he was looking for.
“For Heaven’s sake, John, what is it?” Sherlock sat up, flinging his arms out to the side in a dramatic manner.
John rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know you heard the news, Sherlock. Don’t tell me it’s not interesting enough for you.”
“Three dead bodies…”
“Yes, yes,” Sherlock waved a hand in front of himself, cutting John off. “Boring.”
John raised a brow, but said nothing. If Sherlock wasn’t interested in finding out how those three boys died, who was he to argue in their favor. Aside from the fact that he was getting just as bored as Sherlock claimed to be (and just as annoyed with Sherlock’s constant whining as he was bored), there really wasn’t much motivation to do much of anything.
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The second reported finding revealed two male bodies; one sixteen, one thirteen. The third brought the total corpses found to ten, all males between the ages of thirteen and eighteen. Sherlock and John left for Crayden that afternoon.
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"Who the bloody hell are you?" PC Bill Dorsey asked as Sherlock and John stopped in front of the police tape.
Sherlock stared at him a moment before turning to John. John rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the PC, the question leaving his lips before he'd fully turned away from Sherlock. "May we speak to the person in charge?"
"Are you Sherlock Holmes, then?" a woman walked up to the tape. John stared at her for a moment before pointing to Sherlock. "Right, Lestrade said you'd be stopping by."
Sherlock turned to glare at John. "You told Lestrade?"
John raised his hands in a placating manner. "I did no such thing. You're the one always telling me Mycroft bugs the flat. What's to make you think it wasn't him?"
Sherlock raised a brow, but didn't argue the point. He turned back to the woman. "Yes, I'm Sherlock Holmes and this is my colleague, Doctor John Watson. Show me to the bodies."
"This way," the woman held the police tape up, allowing Sherlock and John to cross. "I'm Inspector Lassiter, this is my scene. Lestrade tells me you're the best and we need the best, Mr. Holmes. We've finally gotten back identification for the first five bodies that were found. We'll see about these five once we've moved them from the scene, but Lestrade says you work best with an undisturbed scene so I haven't let anyone touch a thing yet."
Sherlock raised a brow. He opened his mouth to speak, but John cut him off. "Yes, thank you. We'll have a look see and go from there."
"Very well."