The Great Game: Chapter 8

                                    

                                          
Emma's urgent case ended up being one of the biggest undiscovered serial killer dumps in all of London. Cops had found at least 10 bodies and counting shoved everywhere in an abandoned hotel that had only just recently gone out of business after an over the top renovation sent it into bankruptcy. According to Emma, cops had been tipped off by an anonymous source and you were the first person she called.
                          
"We need to get an ID on these victims, asap." You ordered an intern, Dr. Arden, shoving dental records and paperwork into his arms. "Take these to Erica, she can scan them and hopefully get us some matches." The intern nodded and scuttled away. 
                          
You turned towards another intern, studying them. "Dr. Hazel, please see if Emma needs help with anything. To be quite honest, you're just in the way at the moment." The other intern nodded glumly, taking the walk of shame out.
                          
"Geez, you really are a witch aren't you?" Dr. McClendon laughed. You turned over your shoulder to see him beginning to study a set of remains. You rolled your eyes at him, turning to get started on figuring out how these victims died.
                          
"So my secret is out? Wow, I thought you just figured I was the caring kind of emotionless being. Now that you know, you won't be offended when I tell you that paperwork you just typed up on this man's injuries are incorrect." You said coldly, kind of appreciative Mark was a straightforward kind of guy.
                          
"Oh?" He looked amused, waiting for you to continue.
                          
"At first glance, yes the fracture across this man's skull looks as if it's just blunt force trauma, but if you took the time to access the inside of his skull you will see that in fact, this man was shot. The shot came from directly above him, entering right where the parietal bones meet, on the sagittal suture. The bullet just so happened to exit miraculously right through his foramen magnum. Now that is a one in a million chance." You held the skull upside down, showing him you were right.
                          
"Well I'll be damned. You're right, but I already knew that." He grinned, you nodded.
                          
"Obviously, it wasn't tha- Wait what do you mean you already knew that?" Mark laughed at this and you studied him, was he making fun of you?
                          
"You're supposed to be the brilliant one, you tell me." He tested and you scanned him with squinted eyes. He did this a lot. 
                          
"To test me, right. Well, I appreciate it, but you won't let any details go past me." You told him cockily, continuing to study the remains.
                          
"Now I know." He stated, ducking next to you to help.
                          
After you had discovered the cause of death for all 10 sets of remains, with the help of Dr. Mark McClendon, you halfway wrote up the reports ready to get back to Sherlock, it was almost dusk now. 
                          
Sure, the serial killer thing was absolutely amazing and not to mention one of the best cases you'd seen at work in years, but you already had your eyes on a different killer. These murders weren't going to distract you from your priorities here. Moriarty was your top contender, and you were ready to prove he was behind this entire mess. You wanted to be with Sherlock, working on the bomber case, together.
                          
As you were pulling off your lab coat to leave, a white faced intern approached you.
                          
"Dr. Arden, you look as though you've got exciting news, please share." His shaking hands handed over a file and you flipped it open, reading it. "Well, this ruins my plans for the night." You groaned, handing the file over to Mark as you slipped your coat back on. All the victims were missing NCA agents.
                          
***
                          
"I remember hearing about those disappearances on telly... do you think they could be connected to our bomber?" Sherlock asked through the phone and you chewed on your lip in thought.