jumpthegun | IC Inbox (v1.0)

There are definite signs of the victim being dragged from inside the house, most likely from the ballroom. What can you deduce from this?

[Come on, John, he believes in you!]

He's been drinking and his partner didn't much like his dance moves?

[He doesn't know. Jesus, Sherlock, really?]

[The look Sherlock shoots at John now is utterly disparaging.]

Think it through, you do have some amount of deductive intelligence to call on.

[To Sherlock's credit, John does mentally review the clues he's been given so far.]

Alcohol on the breath points to drinking. Ballroom's a good enough place as any to nip off to for a drink, I s'pose. But on the cuffs, as well. Something spilled. Either he spilled on himself, someone spilled on him, or he set his arms down in something.

[He tilts his head slightly as a thought occurs.]

You said I could smell alcohol. Was it the same on the cuffs as on his breath? And can I ask what all of us were doing before I found the body?

[Sherlock sighs, a muted and irritated sound. Yet again John focuses on the trivial and misses the vital, it makes him wonder how anyone who isn't him ever manage to solve anything.]

No, the alcohol on his cuffs was wine, the alcohol on his breath was whiskey. There was a party before you found the body, multiple guests invited to celebrate the closing of a particularly difficult case.

[A pause.]

What else do the current clues tell you?

[He wants to point out that he's not the bloody detective here, but refrains, trying to think harder.]

You didn't mention marks around his neck, so that's the noose out for the murder weapon. Might have been the revolver if the killer used the butt, but there are easier ways to kill someone with a gun. Probably not that, then. Someone also managed to drag a grown man from the ballroom, completely unnoticed, during a party. He was left, though which means the killer was interrupted somehow. Maybe they heard me coming? Or they were interrupted by someone else. That implies someone else may be a witness, even if they didn't actually see the body.

I can ask around, see if any of the other guests saw another person outside in the past hour.

Good.

[Well, not good, but better. At least John is picking up on some things now. He waits a second, before deciding that he'll have to spell it out.]

You're strong, John. Should you kill a man, would you carry his body, or drag him and risk leaving evidence behind?

If I'm killing a man, I'm not intending to be dragging his body anywhere.

[Sherlock has seen what he does when committing murder. John hadn't made any great effort to hide the bodies of the cabbie or that circus bloke.]

I understand your point, though. It was someone with decent upper body strength, so probably not one of the women. That bears out with a death by a blow to the head for the death. [He pauses.] We can probably rule out the dagger for the same reason as the revolver. Leaves the lead pipe, the spanner, and the candlestick. Lead pipe and spanner are gonna be harder to come by in an unfamiliar house... but there are probably candlesticks all over the place.

Wrong.

[He raps a hand down on the board, making the useless pieces go everywhere.]

Most of the men represented would have the requisite upper body strength to lift a corpse, even one as tall as me. A woman, shorter of stature, is more likely to drag a body in an effort to conceal it, as lifting it is out of the question.

Unless it was a bluff.

[But really, he's not expecting it to be.]

So, Scarlett, Peacock, or White.

Did I get a chance to see our Mr. Holmes interacting with those three at the party?

No, of course not, you're the detective called in after a murder. Why would you have been at the party?

[But he does lay out the cards, face up, for all the men, and the revolver, as John has ruled them out correctly.]

[But not the rope or dagger. Interesting.]

Do any of the three of them have criminal records as near as my lads back at the Met can tell?

[He nods approvingly, that's a better question.]

Miss Scarlett has a few petty misdemeanours for keeping a disorderly house, and Mrs. White has a prior conviction for dangerous driving under the influence.

How about any possible ties to the victim? I'd also like to see the glasses each woman was drinking from last at the party, see if it matches up to the wine on Mr. Holmes' cuffs. Do any of them appear to be drunk?

Better.

[Now John's getting it!]

All the women were drinking wine, but only Mrs. White appears to be drunk.

I don't think she'd be the attacker, then. A drunk trying to drag a body like that? Especially one that big? She'd make a racket.

Good, so you have eliminated another.

[He puts Mrs. White's card down face up on the table.]

You should have more than sufficient information to piece together the events of the evening now.

[Should he? John doesn't feel like he does. It was either Scarlett or Peacock, so that narrowed the range. No criminal history for Peacock... but Scarlett's... hmm. That disorderly house business. How would that play in? Maybe... well, she just left a body for anyone to find. Maybe?

The weapon has been narrowed to the spanner or the candlestick, and John's leaning heavily toward candlestick. The room, though...]

Wait. How the hell do I have enough information to get the room? All I know is that they probably didn't club him in the ballroom if there were people around. Are we counting just outside for that room?

[It's all so clear to Sherlock, even putting himself in an outside perspective where he isn't the one setting the clues. The look he gives John is the same perplexed one he sometimes gives to Lestrade, like someone trying to work out the thought processes of a species completely alien to his own.]

From what you know of the victim, and the clues you have already uncovered, you should be able to piece together an accurate timeline of events. The location comes along with this.

[John frowns and looks down at the board to get the layout of the rooms.]

I know he has wine on his lips and cuffs and he was probably clubbed with a spanner or a candlestick. Um... is there any construction going on in the house anywhere? Or signs that something's been recently fixed where there might be a toolbox?

[Maybe he can narrow it that way.]

Urgh.

[It's a frustrated noise and Sherlock bats the board to one side and gets up, utterly at the end of his patience.]

This is ridiculous, John, if I give you any more information then I may as well be spoon feeding you the answer. Put yourself in my shoes, in the victim's shoes, and walk through the evening.

[John bristles. This is stupid. He should just stop playing and try to go back to sleep. Except worse things are waiting for him in his dreams than a petulant Sherlock Holmes. He can at least lie down next to Mary and stare at the dark ceiling. The doctor is feeling significantly less vulnerable now than when he'd made his plea for Sherlock not to leave him.

But it's he doesn't like losing, even if Sherlock is far worse about it. John crosses his arms and glares down at the upset board.]

It was Mrs. Peacock in the ballroom with the candlestick. White and Scarlett were probably making a scene, a loud one, between being drunk and disorderly. Peacock used that distraction to club Mr. Holmes over the head with the candlestick and drag him out as fast as she could after he was being an insulting berk to her. Ms. Scarlett's probably already used to the barbs if she's been cited, so she'd be able to deal with Mr. Holmes making jabs. That leaves Peacock, who doesn't have a criminal record, but might have some other secret. Something Mr. Holmes learned when she accidentally spilled her wine on him.

[For just a few moments, it's all Sherlock can do to stare. Is this how John looks when Sherlock issues a deduction, all open mouthed and foolish? But then his surprise melts into a sudden approving grin.]

Exactly right!

[See, he knew that John must have picked something up watching him all those years.]

I couldn't have put it better myself. I mean, I could have put it the same way after a fraction of the time, but-- Well done, John. Well deduced.

[John blinks a few times, his irritation fading away for the praise, and his own expression lightening.]

What, really?

[Sherlock's approval really shouldn't have any sway on his mood at this point in John's life, but he can't help it. Something like this is rare and precious.]

That was... that was almost fun. Hah! [He quiets down quickly.] You're a bloody awful GM, though. Never play DnD.

What are you talking about?

[Seriously... GM? DnD? What did these acronyms have to do with Cluedo?]

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