We arrived at the scene toting the red coat with the suspicious stains.

"Hullo Lestrade." I smiled.

"Hey Keyland... are you sure you want to see this?" He asked with a worried look.

"No I don't, but I think I know who did it... and I need to see the body to confirm that." I replied. Another person joined our group... Donovan. 

"Hello Freaks, the body's this way.." She greeted Sherlock, with yet another toxic smile. Sherlock rolled his eyes and followed her to the body. I clenched my fists, following behind them. 

The body was in a back alley. There was trash scattered across it and the woman looked very out of place in her mostly clean white dress shirt and black slacks. The only thing marring the picture was the red blood seeping through her clothes. 

I took one look at the corpse and my stomach turned. Bloody bite marks riddled the young woman's arms and legs. Sherlock's eyes lit up and he crouched next to the body, examining the bite mark with an intense look.

"Well they are definitely canine puncture wounds." He murmured, as Lestrade came over to join us. Donovan crossed her arms and glared at Sherlock while he worked his magic.

"The young woman herself is hiding something, probably something criminal. Look at the scars concealed under the makeup. But something is missing." Sherlock said clearly. 

"What's that?" Lestrade asked.

"Her jacket." Sherlock and I say at the same time.

"Her Jacket?" Donovan scoffs, her arms crossed leaning against the wall of the dirty brick building. 

"Yes the red fibers connected to this broach suggest the jacket was torn off of the body after she was murdered." Sherlock adds. 

"Well then I guess we need to find the jacket." Lestrade says. 

"No we don't." I say holding out the red fabric in front of me. Lestrade's eyebrows raise. 

"Wait what the hell? How did you get the bloody Jacket?" Donovan accuses.

"I didn't bloody kill her. You daft cow." I spat, rolling my eyes and handing Sherlock the Jacket.

"I beg your pardon?" She gasps.

"Keyland." Sherlock says standing up and laying a hand on my arm. "Why don't you take a look."

I can tell he is trying to calm me down, and if it was anybody but Sherlock it wouldn't have worked.

"Alright." Lestrade hands me some gloves and I lift the arm of the girl and to nobody's surprise she had Moriarty's mark.

"There see." I point. Sherlock crouches down beside me, and turns his eyes toward the mark.

"Fascinating." Sherlock says, taking a photo with his phone.

"That mark Lestrade," I say looking up at the older detective, "Is Moriarty's mark. Everyone in his crime ring had that burn."

"Well...Blimey." Lestrade frowns. 

Sherlock helps me up off the ground with a grin on his face. I stand up next to him and try not to throw up. Sherlock's smile wavers as he see's how shaken I am and he leads me out of the alley. 

My hands are Shaking as I try to blink away the horrid sight of the girl that I left behind me. Sherlock grabs my hand, but I pull away from him.

"Erm, I'm gonna call us a cab. You just sit tight." He says  starting to walk away, then, as an afterthought, he kisses my forehead.

 I watch with a soft smile as he runs away to call the cab. Then jump when a voice behind me clips out. "Well there you go, you two freaks are perfect for each other. Bloody psychopaths."

I spin on my heel to face the rude horrid woman.

"Shut up you don't know him. Say what you will about me but you shut up about him!" I seethe. 

"I don't know him? I've probably seen more of him than you have. What are you one of his fan-girls? What did he say to you to make you follow him?" She says with a bitterness that oozes from her core. 

"I've known that man for Eleven years. He has been nothing but sweet to me. I went to college with him. He helped me find out who murdered my father so when I say you know nothing about him I KNOW what I'm talking about." I glowered.

She looked me up and down and smirked. "You are just like him. You must make the freak very happy."

"Call him freak one more time, I dare you." I snarled. 

"He. is. a. Freak." She clipped. 

Before I can think about what it is I am doing my hand flies up and I punch her in the nose. 

She gasps and screams, her eyes widening as blood gushes from her nose. Lestrade comes running over.

"Keyland!" Lestrade exclaims. 

"Don't you ever call him a freak again." I warn her. 

She squeaks.

"Keyland..." Sherlock says appearing at my side and badly masking a smile. 

.

.

.

One very long time later after Lestrade had convinced both Donovan and I to take a breather and talk tomorrow... We walked up the stairs to 221b.