Chapter Text
Prologue
Police tape sets up a visual barrier between the crime scene and the intrigued spectators. Inside the flimsy wall is an array of cars with flashing blue lights and miscellaneous police officers. These are mainly in charge of keeping curious onlookers and reporters from seeing more than they need to. Another imposing barrier, this one of human form, is encircling the actual body.
Outside the wall is an assortment of people from different walks of life. There is a mother herding her children away from the scene, a tall man from a higher social class, reporters from every news channel around, and a group of young people with camera phones eager to see the gruesome sight.
He doesn't care about such things, the man with the turned up collar. The one with the military bearing seems the opposite of his companion. Quiet, steady, with a touch of steel strengthening his spine, one would rue the day they crossed this man, and yet he maintains the persona of a friendly sort.
The tall one is lanky and pale, looking as though he doesn't eat or sleep on a regular basis. His bearing is one of aloof indifference to anything and anybody around him. He is the center of attention in the huddle of detectives, obviously imperative to solving the case as he studies and examines every inch of the surrounding area.
But these are just the musings of a silent passerby. We already know this pair.
Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, the consulting detective and the doctor.