Where Our Hearts Truly Lie, Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Reminders



“John!” Sherlock called excitedly as he rapped on the bathroom door. “We have a case! Triple homicide, the bodies were found on a boat floating in the Thames!”

“Right, give me a mo.” John called back, and the sound of the shower ceased.

Sherlock paced impatiently. It had been ages since they had worked on a case and John was taking longer than usual in the bathroom. He snatched up a folder from a table for something to do. Inside was a letter from Mycroft explaining the termination process that had led to the end of John’s marriage to Mary that he had been gracious enough to undergo for John’s sake.

“Pompous git.” Sherlock muttered before sitting down to read it through again.


When the bathroom door finally clicked open Sherlock glanced up. John walked out wearing jeans and a jumper, which clung to his still damp skin. Sherlock frowned as his friend disappeared to find socks. It must be horridly itchy to wear a jumper immediately showering, why hadn't he put on his bathrobe? Speaking of bathrobes, John hadn't worn one since his return to 221b. He alway seemed to change...

“Ready to go?” John asked, jolting him from his train of thought.

“Wha- yes.” the detective replied quickly before jumping from his seat and leading the way out the door.


They arrived at the crime scene, a small dock with a single boat tethered to it, just as Lestrade finished putting up a perimeter of yellow tape. The DI grinned at them, “It is nice to see you two in public.”

John attempted a smile and Sherlock briskly inquired, “The bodies?”

“Still on the boat, which was reported stolen a few days ago. The victims are unidentified, two men and a woman. My guys are itching to have a go at them, I am not sure how much time you have.”

The detective nodded curtly and said “Come along, John.” Before striding to the dock, gravel crunching under foot.

Once they entered the barge Sherlock breathed a quiet, “Oh this is beautiful.”

John tutted and Sherlock tried to hide his excitement as he turned to his blogger, “This is quite a unique crime scene, can you see why?”

John shrugged, and Sherlock bit back disappointment. John was not up to working capacity just yet. “This boat is a class room,” Sherlock explained gesturing with his hand, “Each of the victims was killed in a different way.” He pointed to the body nearest, a teenage boy, “strangulation,” he pointed to the next body, a middle aged man, “poison,” and finally to the woman, “gun shot wound. These are examples of different methods, different skill sets. Each victim has abrasions on their wrists where they were bound, probably with manila rope, a bit careless of our murder, it often leaves fiber behind. They were brought-”

The detective stopped talking abruptly when he noticed that John was absentmindedly rubbing the scars left over from the metal clasps on his own wrists.

“John?” Sherlock asked quietly.

The blond man blinked and frowned, “Sorry, go on.” he said before rolling down his sleeves and crossing his arms over his chest.

Sherlock shook his head and clamored off the boat. He hurriedly whisper the details to Lestrade, watching John approach them. “The victims won’t be found in any missing persons adds. They were chosen because they are dispensable, and it is likely they were homeless. ‘Cleaning up the streets’ is a common way organized criminals collect victims without too much public outcry. I will check in with my network, they should have an idea who was behind this. ”

“So this was gang activity?” The DI asked.

“Yes, I would not be surprised if we start finding more bodies in similar conditions.” Sherlock turned to John who had just reached them, “Ah John, there you are, time to head home.”

“I am not done with you yet Sherlock!” Lestrade said sternly.

“No one ever is, Gram.” Sherlock called back as he lead John away ignoring the DI’s annoyed mutter, “It’s Greg.”


Sherlock gazed at the man lying next to him. His flatmate was wearing a long sleeved shirt rather than his usual t-shirt. The detective deduced this was because of that day’s experience rather than the temperature because John had pulled the sleeves far over his hands. As always John’s back was to him, but somehow it seemed more defensive now. He was hiding, Sherlock realized, purposefully concealing what ever evidence remained of Mary’s abuse.

With difficulty he resisted the urge to move closer to the other man, it was his nature to investigate, but he felt his motives were not purely scientific. Sherlock sighed and closed his eyes. In his mind he heard his brother scold, “Human Error.”