Deducing Tragedy Part Two: Speak No Lies

Ann Arsvitae, I thought as I walked down the street. The name I chose for myself when I died the second time. The Art of Life, what was she? Because she didn’t feel like me; she felt like a stranger, a different persona that I could adapt at a moment’s notice. When I was her I was cold, cut off from emotions and all other irrational distractions. When I was her I was devoid of feelings and it allowed me to think. I suppose I was a mirror of the old Sherlock, like John said.

But as I walked down the street, tears started to form in my eyes and slip down my cheeks. I didn’t like being Ann, I hated it in fact. But I couldn’t handle the guilt and sorrow that being Hanna entailed. When I got on that plane to fake my death all the memories came flying back; striking me with the heartbreak and death that I was a part of. And I was a part of it, not matter what the others said; I was part of Tomas’s destruction. I could have done something, told Sherlock or Lestrade who was killing those girls but instead I kept quiet. I hid away inside Baker Street and kept my mouth shut.

And then there was Sherlock. God damn he was beautiful. Seeing him in the hall at Saint Bart’s I felt nothing, because I was Ann. But standing under that tree, those speeches had broken through my shield and reached Hanna. When the chaos started and he looked right at me my heart hurt with need. Need to run to him, need to hold him and need to kiss him and apologize.

“Enough,” I hissed wiping away the tears that had fallen. “Enough of that; enough feeling sorry for yourself. You don’t get to feel bad, you don’t deserve it. You’re an accomplice… you are a Monster Hanna Hooper. You don’t get a happy ending! Your happy ending died-” my sentence stopped short when my phone chimed.

The translation is done.

Good, I thought slipping back into my shield. Hanna Hooper faded away and Ann Arsvitae fell back into place. This is why I adopted the shield; I thought putting my phone back in my pocket and hailing a cab. Because as much as I hated Ann, I hated Hanna more.

~

"Lestrade where is my team?" I demanded as I arrived at Scotland Yard. He did a double take, his eyes going wide with shock before they narrowed in confusion.

"Hanna-"

"My name is Ann Arsvitae," I said cutting him off. "Leader of Team Alpha, the ones in charge of tracking down The Ripper."

"Oh," he said, blinking repeatedly. "Yeah, sorry you looked like someone I once knew."

"Inspector Lestrade I am not interested in who I look like," I said with a silencing look. "I am however interested in the note that my team has finished translating so I will repeat my initial question: where is my team?"

He blinked again, hesitating only a moment longer before nodding towards that back, "Right this way."

He led me through the building, stealing glances very chance he had. He wasn’t the only one though; Donovan and Anderson among others blatantly stared as we walked past. I ignored them though and kept my eyes locked on what was in front of me until finally I saw my team.

Lestrade has us tucked into a glass conference room. My team was hard at work finishing the set up. Maps and scribbles covered the walls along with the faces of the two London victims.

"Before anyone says anything read me the translation," I said walking into the room.

Eva stepped forward looking very annoyed. Probably because of Jeremy, I thought as she began to read. "Dearest Ann, how are you? I hope your night was as pleasant as mine was. The vigil was beautiful; they cared so much for the dearly departed Hanna. Sherlock especially was surprisingly sentimental. I know he surprised you; your tears were a lovely thing to see at such an event.

"Seven bodies have dropped since you began this case and you are still helpless to find me. Perhaps our dear Ann is ill-equipped to find me. Perhaps you need the help of a certain Consulting Detective. Or maybe, just maybe, you need the help of one Little Blind Girl.

"Till next time Love, R," she looked up at me, her eyes wide with fear. I suppose my expression was rather murderous as everyone had taken a step back.

"Right," I hissed through clenched teeth. "This man needs to...." I trailed off rather than finish my sentence and be charged with premeditated murder. “Ben, what did you find on the body?”

“He used latex this time,” he said handing me a file, “we ran the tests and there was nothing out of place in the blood or on the body. She was clean.”

“Jordan what do you have on her phone records?” I asked and there was silence.

“Ma’am?” he asked looking very confused.

“Our victim got a phone call that drew her away from the Vigil!” I shouted at the boy. “And you didn’t think it would be nice to have the phone records to see if she’s had calls from this person in the past?!”

“Right,” he nodded hurriedly before walking over to his computer and typing away.

“And you Jeremy!” I shouted turning to him, his eyes going wide. “What the hell is on your shirt?!” I demanded and he looked down.

“Um…” he trailed off, looking down, “Hitler riding a triceratops and holding a rocket launcher?”

“Why?”

He raised an eyebrow, “because… well, my normal answer would be “fuck you that’s why” but you’re my boss so…I don’t really have an answer…”

I paused a small smiled spreading across my lips, “thank you for volunteering to be on babysitting duty for the remainder of our time here. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, they are your responsibility now. Watch them, do not take your eyes off the one in the trench coat, he is a slippery bastard.” He walked away sulking and I turned back to the file in my hand.

“Did you know her?” Ben asked in a quiet tone as we stepped away from the group who went about their business. “The Victim?”

“She was a waitress at a club I went to when I lived at Baker Street.” I said in a low tone, “She was always kind to me, assisting me through the crowd to a place where I could dance without getting in the way of others or knocked down. She got drawn into Tomas’s network because of her kindness.”

“It’s not your-“

“She was an idiot,” I cut him off before turning back to the boards and looking over the map of London. Ben sighed heavily before turning away and getting back to work.