As they all went up into the attic, Phoebe moved up next to Sherlock so she could make sure it wasn't going to much for Theo to handle. She already felt irresponsible for allowing Theo to even come to solve a murder.

John immediately began to inspect the body and saw the bruises around her neck and the scrapes that littered her body.

"Theo, you can come up now. It's not too bad," Phoebe called down and Theo quickly climbed the ladder up to the attic.

He froze when he saw the body and then he looked at John.

Phoebe knelt down as well and examined the lady's hands.

"There was very clearly a struggle. Not only the bruises and cuts, but she had skin and blood under her nails on one hand and on the other she has hair stuck under her nails as well," Phoebe said as she pulled the couples strands of ginger hair out from under the woman's fingernails and Sherlock looked around the attic.

"And whoever killed her had the time to drag her up here. It would not be easy to drag the body up here," Sherlock spoke.

"How do you know she wasn't killed up here?" Gregson shot back.

"Use your head, Gregson. There is clearly signs of a bloody struggle on the body, but there is no sign of any excess blood up here. The killer would not have cleaned the attic if this is where they wanted to keep the body. They would've cleaned the scene though if it were downstairs where people would be going through the house. Also, the likelihood of them having the fight up in the attic is extremely low," Sherlock explained as he gave Gregson a harsh look.

"If she didn't have the time to get the body out of the house then it wasn't a very well planned out murder. My guess is that there was an arguement that turned violent which resulted in this murder. The culprit panicked and decided to hide the body on the premises," Phoebe said and Sherlock's lips pulled into a smile.

"How does it feel to be in the presence of a woman smarter than yourself?" Sherlock said as he leaned closer to Gregson. Any opportunity to get under the assistant inspector's skin was an opportunity that he could never pass up.

Gregson rolled his eyes as he scoffed. "Like a woman could make a better detective than me."

Phoebe glared at him and was about to make a comment, but Lestrade stopped the argument before it really even started.

"Anyways! We're letting you in on this case, please try to stay civil. I have faith you'll uncover the culprit without much trouble," Lestrade cut in and Sherlock nodded with a proud grin.

"Rest assured, Inspector. We'll figure this out for you," Sherlock replied and Phoebe stood up to be next to Theo.

"You alright?" She asked gently.

He nodded quickly with a smile. "Yeah! You guys are good at this!"

"Thanks. This is actually my third time working on a case. Sort of. I don't know if the Noahtic counts," Phoebe admitted. "But while it's a bit scary, it's kinda fun."

"You're sister is a natural at this," Sherlock spoke up. "Now, come on. I wanna question the husband."

Phoebe nodded and they went down to the kitchen where the husband was accompanied by another officer.

"We'll take it from here, sir," Sherlock said and Lestrade nodded to the officer to let Sherlock take his place.

Sherlock sat down with Phoebe while John and Theo stood behind them.

"So, what is your name?" Sherlock asked as he put his elbows on the table, his hands in a praying position against his mouth.

"Melvin Maybourne. My wife's name was Genevieve Maybourne," the man answered as he wiped his tears.

"Alright, Melvin, where were you when you received word of your wife being missing?"

"I was out on business in Cambridge. I'm a doctor and one of my clients was on vacation when their child fell ill so I went to see them. I came back as soon as I was told Genny was missing," Melvin explained as his fists trembled.

"Solid alibi. Is there anyone who had ill will with you or your wife?" Phoebe asked as she gave the man a sympathic look.

"Not that I can think of. Everyone in town loves Genny. She was my first love so there are no jealous lovers. My sister hasn't always gotten along with Genny, but not to the extent of murder. She's just protective since she pretty much raised me," Melvin recalled to which Sherlock hummed.

"I would like to question your sister if that's alright," Sherlock requested and Melvin nodded.

"Of course. She lives on the other of the city. I'll give you the address," Melvin said.

🔎

Phoebe road with Sherlock this time and she wrote down everything on a small pad.

"If my theory is correct, questioning the sister will clear up some things," Sherlock spoke up as he relaxed with a grin.

"Theory? How do you already have a theory?" Phoebe looked up in shock.

"Well, of course. Your analysis of what happened got me thinking, especially after he said that his sister didn't aleays get along with his wife. If it wasn't a premeditated murder than there is a possibility of it being hos sister. It's the best lead we have so far."

"I guess. I just didn't think you would figure it out this fast," Phoebe admitted as she put her pad down.

"There is always the possiblity that I'm wrong, but that's why I would like to question the sister before continuing on in the investigation," Sherlock replied and he shot her a smile. "Are you impressed?"

Phoebe laughed lightly as she nodded her head. "Yes, Sherlock. I am impressed."

🔎

Phoebe stood behind Sherlock with Theo and John by her side as he knocked on the door to Diana Maybourne's house, Melvin's older sister.

The door opened and Diana froze. "Hello? May I help you?"

"Yes, actually. I am Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes and these are my associates. We were just with your younger brother Melvin and we were wondering if we could ask you a few questions," Sherlock introduced as he looked the woman up and down.

"Of course! Come in!" Diana replied as she stepped aside for them to come inside.

Phoebe saw the woman's ginger hair and her eyes widened. The hair under Genevieve's nails. She cleared her throat a bit, gaining Sherlock's attention. She began writing on her pad, while giving Sherlock a look.

Diana looked between the two and raised an eyebrow.

"You look a lot like your brother," Phoebe spoke quickly. "What's the age gap?"

The question seemed to fluster Diana and she put some tea on the stove as the rest of them sat at her table. "Fourteen years."

"He said that you practically raised him," Sherlock said and Diana nodded slowly.

"Yeah, um, our parents abandoned us when he was born," Diana explained as she sat down.

"Anyways, getting on subject. Where were you this week?" Sherlock questioned.

"Well I was at work for most of the week. I did my shopping on Wednesday. And the rest of the time I was home," Diana replied as she shifted in her seat.

Phoebe noticed that she was having a hard time holding eye contact.

Diana leaned back for a split second, but it was long enough for Phoebe to see the scratch she had on the side of her face near her ear that her hair had been hiding.

"What happened to your face?" Phoebe asked quickly, drawing Sherlock's attention.

"Oh, I just tripped the other day and hit my cheek on the table," she answered quickly.

Phoebe nodded carefully and she wrote on her notepad.

The hair color is the same from under the victim's nails and the wound can't be a coincidence

Sherlock looked at her pad and hummed and shot Phoebe a grin.

"Well, we're told that you were seen at your brother's house this week," Sherlock lied as he leaned forward on his elbows. "Tuesday? Wednesday?"

Theo noticed that she had stuffed when he said Wednesday. "It was definitely Wednesday, Mr Holmes."

"Right, Theo," Sherlock agreed abd Diana started to breathe heavily.

"I was home! I swear! I wasn't anywhere near the murder!" Diana shrieked.

"Now who said anything about murder, Diana?" Sherlock grinned as he stood up.

"It was an accident I swear! I was only trying to get her to leave him!" Diana shouted as tears began pouring down her cheeks.

"He's your son, isn't he?" Phoebe spoke up and Diana froze.

"How did you?" Diana looked at her as she sniffed.

"He's the spit of you and the age difference would account for him thinking you're his sister. It's actually quite common," Phoebe said as she stood up.

"My parents abandoned me when they found out I was pregnant... I figured it would be easier to tell everyone that he was my little brother. I didn't mean to kill Genny. Promise I didn't mean to. I just hated the thought of her using all his money! She was no good for him!" Diana sobbed as she put her head on the table. "I just want him to be happy."

"I don't think you get to decide that for him. And think how torn apart he will be when he finds out that his biological mother killed the woman he loves," Phoebe said with a hard look.

Diana looked up and had a moment of realization. "He's gonna hate me."

The woman broke down in hysterics, but Sherlock looked at Theo.

"Can you run outside and get Lestrade for me?" Sherlock requested, knowing that the Yard wouldn't be too far behind them after taking the body to the morgue to be examined.

"Of course!" Theo jumped up and ran to the door.

Phoebe attempted to calm the woman down as Theo came back inside after flagging down Lestrade.

"We found your killer, Lestrade. Your welcome," Sherlock spoke with a proud grin as he glanced over at Phoebe.

"We do appreciate your help, Holmes," Lestrade said before putting the lady in handcuffs.

"It's what I live to do, Lestrade. Now, we'll be on our way home. Someone is up past his bed time, I believe," Sherlock said and Theo grimaced.

"What are you my dad?" Theo grumbled.

Phoebe shuddered at the thought. "That would be a terrifying sight."

They started to leave as Lestrade took Diana to Scotland Yard.

"What if you were my mother?" Theo spoke as he looked at Phoebe.

Phoebe stood straight an looked at her brother. "Excuse me?"

"Well, her son thought that they were siblings. What if you were actually my mother?" Theo explained.

"I love you, Theo, but that's a strange thought. I would've been eleven! Not fond of that idea," Phoebe said as she shook her head quickly.

"I think you'd make a great mother!" Sherlock spoke as he held out a hand to hail a carriage.

"Well, I appreciate the sentiment, but I don't think I can return the favor. I would be terrified of you having a kid," Phoebe returned as she laughed a little.

"Children are definitely not my area," Sherlock agreed as a carriage pulled over. "Alright, Phoebe, you can take Theo home in this one. John and I will be close behind."

"Okay. I'm going to get some sleep when we get home, so I will see you boys in the morning," Phoebe said as she looked at Sherlock and John.

"Alright, then. Goodnight, Phoebe," John said with his usual kind smile.

Phoebe walked over and pecked his cheek. "Goodnight, John." She looked over at Sherlock who had his eyes slightly narrowed. She giggled lightly and stood on her toes, pecking his cheek as well. "Goodnight, Sherly."

"Goodnight, Phee. I'll see you in the morning for breakfast," Sherlock said as he gave a bright smile.

"Yes. You did good, Sherlock. Get some sleep when you get home," Phoebe said before turning to get into the carriage where Theo was waiting for her.

After the two left, John chuckled at Sherlock who still had a huge smile on his face. "I'm proud of you too, if you cared."

"Huh?" Sherlock looked over at John who just shook his head with a light laugh.

"Nevermind. Let's just get home," the doctor said with a slight grin.

🔎

Sherlock laid on the loveseat with his eyes rested closed.

A though poured into his mind as he just stayed there.

"Hmm... what about that man? Can you guess his profession?" A woman spoke in his mind as he remembered the moment perfectly.

He hummed and looked at the man in question. "Yeah, I got it."

"You barely looked!" The second lady exclaimed.

"If you guess correctly, that'll be ten times in a row!" The third piped up.

"Beg your pardon, sir. It seems you've become an unwilling participant in our bet," one of the ladies said to the blonde man in fron of the giant spiral staircase.

"A bet? Really?" He questioned.

"Yes. It simply entails us standing here, people watching, while he takes a guess as to their occupations," the lady explained.

"Go on and tell us quickly! What does that gentleman do for a living?"

"Regarding the man's line of work, it's rather elementary," Sherlock spoke as he pushed his hair back with one hand. "He's a mathematician."

"Now explain it step by step!"

"Yes! Please, indulge us!"

"First, there's no denying it's a hell of a spiral staircase. I can see why you were admiring it. Which element, though?" Sherlock started.

The man raised and eyebrow at the assumption. "What makes you so sure I'm a mathematician?"

"Hmm? It's simple. Whilst I was observing, I noticed how long you stood in place, distance, and the angle you chose." Sherlock held up a finger for each point.

The three women all stepped towards the two men in awe.

"I'll continue. Truth can be found through simple deductions based on knowledge and behavior. Despite clearly being absorbed in thought while walking across the lounge, your concentration was broken once you reached the stairs." Sherlock continued as he gave a grin. "Dare I say, almost as if the site had caused your mind to come to a momentary halt and all other matters dissipated."

The blonde gentleman watched Sherlock with a piercing scarlet gaze. He was incedibly intrigued.

"There's no denying the staircase is beautifully adorned and worth admiring. But where was your attention? You didn't step closer to appreciate the intricate ornamentation. Instead, you took a step backward, allowing you to observe the staircase as a hole."

The women were invested this explaination, taking in each word. Shocked by each and every detail.

"What profession matches this behavior. An appreciation for the construction and not cosmetic beauty. An architect? Or a physicist, perhaps. On the contrary..."

Sherlock looked over at the blonde who just watched ihim intently.

"His piercing gaze was not directed at the column because his interest wasn't in the manner in which the stairs were supported. So, the question becomes what was he looking at that caused him to step backwards. He wanted the grand scope. To seek confirmation. The curve of the staircase and whether or not it adhered to a certain principle:  The divine proportion. By which I mean the golden ratio," Sherlock finished his lengthy explaination.

"You're correct. What a keen observer you are. Whilst the logic of your argument was a trifle forced, I am a professor. I teach mathematics at University," the man confirmed as he stood with his eyes rested closed.

"Then you mean..." the lady dressed in blue started.

"That makes ten in a row!"

"Now then, it would be remiss of me not to return the favor," the man spoke as he held his chin between his fingers.

Sherlock let out a breath of surprise as he looked at the professor.

"Where to start? You play the strings, violin specifically, but you're not a professional musician. Additionally you adapt in physical activities, such as boxing. You have an avid interest in scientific experiment and..." The gentleman approached Sherlock before taking a brief sniff. "Do I detect the slightest hint of a chemical dependency?"

Sherlock's eyes widended, only ever been on the deducted side from his brother. For a stranger to read him so accurately with ease was impressive, he couldn't lie.

"Even though you give me the impression of being an oxbridge educated man, I find your dialect to be more in the vein of the working class. As for the why, no doubt it's because you take pride in your ancestry, specifically your mother's side." The man turned away, pleased with his own deductions.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes slightly as he stood still with his hands tucked away in his pockets. In his right pocket, his fingers traced the cold metal of the locket he held dear.

The blonde kept his back to Sherlock, but continued, "and you keep what I can only say is a locket which was given to you by an old friend from your childhood. You miss her company, but can't bare to see the look on her face if you showed up one day to see her again after so long. Well?"

"How'd you ever guess?" Sherlock gripped his locket tighter, blown away by his deductions.

"I didn't. Everything I said was a fact," the professor said with a slight glint in his eyes.

Sherlock let out a harty laugh. "What an intriguing chap."

"Do you think so?" The blonde grinne as he stood, watching the man in front of him.

"Come. There are more people in the upper deck," one of the women spoke as they came to drag him away.

"Still not sated?" Sherlock questioned as he looked at the three women.

"Hardly, We're going to have to make you keep going until you make a mistake," another of the girls said.

"I'm at your mercy," Sherlock said as he allowed the ladies to drag him off, but he paused for a moment, looking back at the blonde. "Oh, professor. See you around."

Sherlock opened his eyes as the door to the flat opened and closed. He looked over and saw Phoebe walking into the flat.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" Phoebe asked as she paused at seeing him look so relaxed on the couch.

"Nah, I wasn't asleep. Merely thinking of something. More like someone, actually," Sherlock admitted as he sat up and allowed Phoebe to sit beside him.

"Who is this someone?" She asked curiously as she looked up at the detective.

"A man I met on the Noahtic. I never learned his name, but I know that he's a mathematics professor," Sherlock spoke and Phoebe hummed.

"Was he by chance blonde with striking scarlet eyes?" Phoebe questioned and Sherlock straightened as he nodded his head quickly.

"Yes! Do you know who his is?"

"I do. We had dinner together on the ship," Phoebe replied.

"What was his name?" SHerlock asked expectantly.

"William James Moriarty."