[Sherlock, of course, is unaware of the images and the text and even the bright noticeable details. It's simply him projecting his mind around him. So when Tom asks, suddenly all the details of the crime scene leap into importance. The exact spray pattern of blood, the ragged edge of the wounds, the way her hand crumpled under her as she fell.
Images of six other murders float up around him like ghostly reflections - each different but then there are patterns, highlighted and glowing - that follow each of them.]
Of course.
[A small smirk. He isn't the world's greatest detective for nothing.]
no subject
Images of six other murders float up around him like ghostly reflections - each different but then there are patterns, highlighted and glowing - that follow each of them.]
Of course.
[A small smirk. He isn't the world's greatest detective for nothing.]