[COMPLETE] ??? ???? ?? ??? ??????「Sherlock」

"Yᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴏᴄᴋᴇᴛ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ?"

❧

THE BODY OF AN EIGHT-YEAR-OLD BOY HAD BEEN pulled from the Thames early that morning, its skin sickeningly pale and bloated. It had to have been submerged for at least three days, given the visibility of its empty veins and the way the skin was almost gooey to the touch. John observed with a grave look upon his face, his lips welded shut in a thin line. They had dealt with bodies before, but a child? Especially one so frail looking. "He's missing his kidneys, his liver— everything," Anderson explained from not far off. His irritating voice drilled into Sherlock's temples with the ferocity of a hungry hookworm. The boy was practically splayed out like a dissected frog, split open down the front, two gaping holes where his eyes had once belonged. Finally, after rising from where he had knelt upon the cold moist cobblestones, he stepped away from the body bag and allowed the paramedics to cart it away.

"Teeth were pulled, so no dental records," Donovon added, exchanging a glance with Lestrade, who strolled up whilst waiting on the other end of his flip phone. She had her arms crossed along her chest. "And the fingertips—"

"Were melted straight off," finished John, meeting Sherlock's eyes and confirming their own speculations. "They left us with hardly any main source of DNA, as well as no leads."

The detective allowed his eyes to wash over the River Thames, taking in the murky aroma of its brownish-green depths. "Have you questioned the public?"

"We have yet to even bring the case out of the woodwork. This is a child, Mr. Holmes. The boy's parents need to still be contacted— if we can even trace them through testing." How clever. The killer had known enough to remove any form identification from the victim. Multiple thoughts ran through his mind: had this been a hate crime, targeting the child's parents? The killer had removed nearly all means of identification, but surely eliminated the possibility.

This child had to have been alive when he was killed. Perhaps it had been cannibalism, although he doubt it. Was it right to have left Julia alone at their flat without even asking about Mrs. Hudson if she needed anything? He visibly flinched as she intruded into his mind with that distracting head of orange hair. Right— no, back to the case. Sure, the child had been slaughtered and gutted like wild game, but the body would have been preserved for other edible purposes. There was the possibility for molestation at hand, which would make sense when it came to the boy having faint bruises around his ankles and wrists.

"Look into every missing child's case we've had in the past few months and compare the photos—" he ordered, turning to Lestrade for a moment.

"Sherlock, shouldn't we be more concerned about searching for evidence along the bank?" John interjected.

He was getting to that. "— compare the photos to the body. This boy looks to be of American decent, he has ears large enough to be mistaken for a bat. You would be able to indicate the boy's identity if you searched for it in his parents — most likely his father — but since you have no way of testing the body, I would suggest skin samples, perhaps even hair. Look for anything: there's a birthmark on his left index finger and just above the eye, deformity of smallest toe on his left foot. Judging by the callouses on his hands, he most likely worked at an early age. That, or he's in apprenticeship to take over his father's business in shoe-making. Regardless, if you have to, snap off some of his ribs and use them as samples. Also, there was a bit of scuffing down along the bank over there, so perhaps look into that as well. Footprints, Italian leather, worn out arches. A man of good taste did this." Sherlock proceeded, ignoring his partner and not even giving him a shred of decency. "There may be possible samples of rubbish bags. If the killer was as smart as to burn off fingerprints and do some unneeded dental work, then he may have worn gloves, given the indents along the boy's ankles. There may be something down there of use. Call me if you find anything." Finally, after giving his instructions, Sherlock wheeled around and stalked away, his confused colleague following at his heels.