Deducing Tragedy Part One: See No Evil

Hanna was sitting in her chair with a cup of tea when Sherlock got back to the flat. He noticed something was off almost immediately but couldn’t place it. “Since when do you lot own cats?” Lestrade asked bending down to pick up the small creature that was rubbing itself against Sherlock’s leg.

“Cats?” Sherlock frowned.

“They are mine,” Hanna beamed from her seat. “John said that it was ok, and Mrs. Hudson signed off on it. But I guess that was before you were moving back in, I suppose I could go live with Molly, although she hates cats…”

“Don’t be absurd, you are staying here,” Sherlock said waving off her idea. “Why do you have cats?”

“Because The Monster is allergic,” she said standing up and retrieving the wiggling crying creature from Lestrade’s arms. The animal calmed down the moment it was in her arms and she cooed softly into its neck as she walked away.

“The Monster?” Lestrade asked raising an eyebrow.

“It’s nothing of your concern,” Sherlock muttered eyeing a second animal that had made itself at home on John’s chair. “Is the couch here yet?”

“Does it look like it’s here?” She called from the kitchen as she began to put the clean dishes away. “John and Mark went to get it a half an hour ago. They couldn’t be much longer.”

“Mark?” Lestrade frowned.

“Her older brother,” Sherlock sighed taking off his coat and hanging on the hook next to Hanna’s.

“How on earth do you know that?” She asked walking to the living room. “I’ve never said anything and Molly isn’t one for talking about family unless it’s important. How could you possible know?”

Sherlock smirked, “your cats are very important to you, they keep away the monster so why wouldn’t they be? Too important to let a mere acquaintances take care of them while you moved so that leaves close friends and family. Molly didn’t have them because I was living with her while I was supposed to be dead. So that would bring us to friends but you don’t have friends if you did I’d imagine John would have had you invite them over to the gathering last night but there was no one there I didn’t know. So not a friend, but who is left? You just said the name Mark, with the sort of ease of someone who knows him very well. Like you said Molly isn’t one for talking about family, I didn’t even know the two of you were related until I asked Lestrade about you on the cab ride over here. So if you are her sister its reasonable to think that there is another Hooper that I didn’t know about.”

“How did you know he was her older brother?” Lestrade asked and Sherlock shrugged.

“Let’s just say I know a youngest child when I see one.”

“That’s brilliant,” Hanna smiled at him.

“I know,” he smirked. “John has told me.”

She chuckled as she turned back to the dishes. “And he wonders why people think you’re a couple. Lestrade, are you staying for dinner? We’re ordering Chinese.”

“Not tonight,” he said, surprised at the offer from the blind girl. “I'm only staying for a couple hours and then going home. Like most people I can only take so much of this one,” he gestured to Sherlock who rolled his eyes.

“Damn, I was gonna use your card to pay,” she shrugged. “Oh well, next time,” Sherlock snickered and Lestrade shot him a glare.

“Hanna would you actually mind assisting us?” He asked putting his hands in his pockets. “I think between the three of us we should be able to get this settled relatively quickly. God knows it’s gone on for far too long as it is.”

“What are you talking about?” She asked closing the now empty dishwasher and walking back into the living room.

“Jack Jr.” Lestrade said. “That’s what the press has taken to calling this guy. Jack –“

“-the Rippers Son,” she finished his sentence. “The man who kills the party girls.”

“Like his predecessor killed prostitutes, this man kills girls who are looking for sex,” Sherlock said. “But not just that, Jr. has a type. Every girl he has killed was blonde with blue eyes, between the ages of nineteen and twenty two. He is killing someone in particular, or at least their embodiment.”

“He’s choosing people to fill a role,” Lestrade nodded. “Like you said Hanna.”

“Lot of good it did you the first time around,” She muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

“But who is he killing?” Sherlock pondered, walking over to the window. He noticed that the table that had been there before was replaced with a beautiful piano. “When did we get a piano?”

“I bought it Monday from a couple up the street,” Hanna shrugged. “I like to play and they said they would move it for me. They brought it in shortly after you left this morning.”

“Right, anyway…” he trailed off. Sitting down he let his fingers slide across the keys before beginning a soft melody. “Who is he killing? His mother? Wife? Sister?”

“He uses a knife on these women,” Lestrade offered. “That is a personal attack, she meant something to him.” Hanna said nothing, her head bent towards the ground as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Her arms wrapped around herself almost like she was cold.

“Serial killers are typically loners,” Sherlock said. “If he had a sibling it’s likely they weren’t close. It’s also unlikely a sister would be the object of his fixation.”

“That song,” Hanna spoke up suddenly.

“A Lullaby,” he said without pausing in his playing.

“I know it.”

“I gathered.”

She walked over to him and sat beside him on the piano bench. She continued to rock back and forth as he continued to play. Her eyes closed as she swayed with the music, her lips parted and she started to sing, “Like a fleeting thought, like a double life, like a gentle feel of a warming taste. Like a passive breath, like a cooling blow, when you stopped and held me close.” Sherlock glanced at her as he played, something like the ghost of a smiled appearing on his lips.

“Inside I nearly froze.” She sang, her voice flowing with more strength as the music carried her away. “Your touch is almost healing, you left me feeling. Tired, I could not close my eyes. On fire, but frozen inside. To run or to hide.” John and Mark walked into the room and quietly stood beside Lestrade as they watched the odd pair at the piano. Mark smiled proudly at his little sister, she was singing again; it’s about time.

She took a breath, a smile on her face as the song came to an end. ”Speechless, my words would not melt. Whispered, I wanted to shout. Without you I felt, like a setting sun, like a lost goodbye. Like an incomplete lullaby.” Sherlock finished the song and Hanna nodded softly before standing up.

“That was amazing” John said speaking up for the first time and Sherlock spun around.

“John, I didn’t know you were home” he said straightening his shirt. “Where is the couch?”

“Out in the truck” the other man, he assumed to be Mark, said. “Didn’t want to bring it in here until we knew where it was going”

“In Hanna’s’ room” Sherlock said like it was obvious.

“What?” John demanded at the same time Mark said. “Oh hell no”

“Sherlock” Lestrade spoke up. “What is the couch for?”

“For me to sleep on of course” he raised an eyebrow. “It’s the only way for this to work. The living room has no room for a couch; John’s room is also too small. Hanna’s room is the only one with enough space.”

“There is no way I'm allowing you to sleep in my-“

Hanna interrupted her brother, “its ok guys, he’s right. My room is the only one with enough space for two people.”

“So we’ll switch room” John said. “You don’t need to stay in there Hanna.”

“John its fine” she giggled. “Unless you want to because you REALLY missed your best friend. If that’s the case, I completely understand and support the two of you.”

“NO!” John shouted as Sherlock frowned in confusion and asked, “What?”

“Well then I don’t see why it’s a problem” she smirked. “We’re both adults. I'm sure we can handle ourselves, can’t we Sherlock?”

He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Of course”

“Ok then” she turned back to the other three. “Go get the couch and put it in my room along the wall opposite the closet. Greg, can you help me gather my cats and put them in their crates so that they aren’t in the way?”

“Sure” Lestrade shrugged as he moved to reach for the grey cat on John’s chair. Hanna bent down to pick up the one that was crying softly as it circled Sherlock’s feet.

When she stood up she smiled at Sherlock, her unfocused eyes drifting over his face. “I love that song”

He nodded slightly before turning away towards the window. She chuckled and walked over to Lestrade, who was struggling to convince the cat to enter the small cage. Hanna put both cats in the crates while Lestrade located the last animal and brought it to her. By this time Mark and John had returned with the couch. They struggled to get it into the living area and then maneuvered it around, through the kitchen to Hanna’s room. All while Sherlock stood back watched with disinterest in the things happening around him.

Shortly after that Lestrade left the rest ordered Dinner. Molly dropped by with a box of things she thought Sherlock might need if he was staying at Bakers Street that night including pajamas, a change of clothes for tomorrow and his violin. Her and Mark left after dinner, Hanna hugged her family goodbye.

When everyone was gone Hanna turned back towards the two men standing near the chairs. “I think it’s time for bed” she said holding out her hand. “Sherlock?”

“You know your way around” he said brushing past her to gather his box. “I’ll be in the room preparing my bed.” John watched Sherlock stride out of the room and shook his head in disapproval.

“Hanna? Do you need help getting to your room?” he asked putting a friendly hand on her shoulder.

“You guys moved things to get the couch in there” she said softly. “I'm not sure of where everything has been put…”

“So that’s a yes” he smirked taking hold of her small hand and begging to guide her towards her room. “You are a beautiful singer”

She chuckled, “thank you.”

“You were really into the song” he noted.

“Music… it’s always been a passion of mine. The way songs, melodies, a beat, or a simple string of words can capture the essence of human thoughts and feelings…” she trailed off as they got to the door. “It’s the closest I’ve come to, what I can only describe as…Magic.”

“Are you two done blabbering?” Sherlock asked opening the door to glare at the both of them.

John rolled his eyes, “Yes Sherlock, we’re done”

“Good” he turned, disappearing into the dark.

John gritted his teeth. “Goodnight Hanna. Have fun dealing with him”

She laughed as Sherlock called from inside the room. “I heard that! And believe it or not, I understand some sarcasm!”

“Goodnight John” she said still giggling. “And thank you”

“Just let me know if you want to switch rooms” he said.

“That won’t be necessary” Sherlock said reappearing in the door way. “From the state of this room, we’ll be able to coexist famously. Wont we Hanna?”

She rolled her eyes, “we’ll find out. Goodnight John” she said again before entering the room, and closing the door behind her.