Sherlock phoned John as he hopped a taxi to the crime scene. No answer. Naturally. He was used to being ignored by the doctor since he got married. He rolled his eyes and dropped a text.
"345 Main, body's fallen from the sky. If interested, meet in 5.
"Bloody hell, I don't understand where the fall could've happened at. None of these buildings are high enough to cause this type of damage." Lestrade briefed Sherlock leading him over to the scene. "I'm going to warn you in ad.. Nevermind. You're Sherlock Holmes. Nothing bothers you, right?"
Sherlock followed being silent for once. Greg noticed his partner wasn't present, but that had grown more and more frequent lately. He didn't dare mention it to Sherlock. It was a touchy subject.
"Give me a few minutes alone with the... Mess." Sherlock found himself alone in minutes with the mushed bodies. They looked as if they had fallen from 30,000 feet.
"Impossible.." He muttered before he heard the sound of a plane overhead. "AH HA!" He shouted before leaving the bodies. He couldn't identify them. All he could do was figure out what had happened and how.
"What is it, freak?" Donovan rolled her eyes, still skeptical about him.
"Lestrade? Where is Lestrade?"
"I'm right here. Bloody hell, Sherlock, you're already leaving."
"Clearly I am no longer needed here. I already know what occured here and from where."
Greg just stared at Sherlock. "You've been at the scene for not even five minutes!!"
Sherlock looked at him. "I only needed two."
"Well, go on."
"It's so unmissable. You people must be so miserable." Sherlock groaned. "The body didn't fall from any of these building. It's clear that it fell from.." He stopped speaking and pointed to the sky when another plane flew above them.
"What are you saying, Holmes?"
"Are you really that stupid?" He stared at Lestrade making him feel an idiot. "That.. gunk fell from 30,000+ feet. It was tossed out of a plane, helicopter, something that can go that high. Did you not see this? Oh, and that wasn't the intended victim. This was clearly meant as a revenge murder. She was dead before she hit the ground, but you'd know that if you noticed the bullet wound in what remains in tact of her body. It was a death blow to her heart." Sherlock walked back over to the body and found a passport tucked in her bloody coat. "Amanda Jeffers from Russia. She's here on business." He tossed the passport at Lestrade.
"I didn't notice this.."
"You were too afraid to get blood on your hands that you didn't search her entirely. Also? I think the intended victim was meant to be brunette, maybe even black haired. This one clearly dyes her hair and it's obvious that she has as you can see in the passport photo if you open it up, she's a natural blonde and her eyebrows will confirm it. You should be searching for a dark haired young woman between the ages of 22 to 26. She'll be around the height of 5'2"-5'4". I am certain that she would've been adopted or in foster care her entire life. Her parents would've been murdered recently as would any other family that she had here in Lon.."
"We worked a case not too long ago, Sherlock, remember? It was the Levitsky case. I thought we had closed that case..."
Sherlock smiled when that familiar voice hit his ears. It was John. He knew he couldn't resist that text he had sent. Of course, he'd remember that case off the top of his head. He'd written a long and detailed blog entry on it that Sherlock had thought he was never going to finish.
"Evening, John!" Sherlock turned to him. "This is exactly what this is. It was never fully solved. We only caught the hired man. I thought it was closed as well, but.." He stopped. "Let's go get a bite, shall we? We've got to catch up." He grabbed John's arm and pulled him away from Lestrade and Donovan quickly.
"Bloody hell, Sherlock!" He yanked his arm away from him.
"This is that same case, John. Mycroft brought it to me as my morning gift. There's a young girl in danger, and he wants us to make sure no one gets to her. I know where she is and who she is." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and clicked it into his photo gallery where he had snapped the photos of the girl.
"She's bloody attractive."
"John, you're married." Sherlock stated the obvious.
John cleared his throat and his mind of those thoughts and nodded. "Right, where are we going?"
"We're going to the foster home that she used to take up residence at. I believe she has taken a job there helping the young teenage girls cope with moving into the "real world" after the reach adulthood."
John nodded and hailed a cab. Sherlock was smiling at the smaller man. His partner was back, and he would do anything to keep him on the case. He needed him.