The Tale of a Flower
The Tale of a Flower6 mins 194 6 mins 194
The forensic department of the Boston police station exuded with the pleasant smell of lily. It’s a strange combination Sherlock thought as he entered the hall with Watson. Lily, the flower representing renewal and rebirth in the house full of dead. Dr. Irene Adler was examining the
body. Sherlock looked her in secret admiration. He knew she was a prodigy who accomplished everything while suffering secretly with OCD
.“You are just in time.” She said giving Sherlock the chart of the patient.
Moriarty walked to the bar wearing a jacket and black jeans. His hands kept going to jacket and he was fighting the urge every time. The secur ity checked him and let him inside. Even though being one of the cheapest bars in this side of town it was crowded this time of the night. He sat on the edge of the bar not wanting to attract attention and checked his watch his hands impatiently.
The waitress at the bar called out “Sir, the bar is closed.” to the man lying head down in the seat. She went closer to him and shook him. She withdrew her hands swiftly when his hands were cold.
The crime scene was sealed by Sherlock and Watson. The body was left unmoved. A big ‘M’ was drawn on his dorsal hand. Irene was on the scene brushing for fingerprints. “So far there isn’t any fingerprints nor fibers nor blood” she said. “The person has been identified as Mr. Jovalin Alphonso, 40yr old married, an attorney of the state. The place was crowded last night and everyone high. No one even remember him being here let alone whom he had drinks with and there are no cameras on the inside and back door” Watson said.
“Dr. Irene can you smell the almond in the air” Sherlock asked looking at Irene. “I don’t smell anything “Irene said surprised. “Neither do I” said Watson. Irene said “It’s not surprising since 20-40% of the population cannot detect the smell of it” .Holmes stared at the floor puzzled.
“Watson, you don’t think someone could forget a smell, do you” asked Sherlock searching his laptop.
“No, you like Irene though” Watson replied .He turned from the kitchen and saw Holmes grim expression.
“What’s the matter” he asked Holmes sitting near him. “This crime is close to perfect. There’s zero evidence in crime scene. We had all the glasses checked for fingerprints. There’s no motive either. Everyone liked the attorney. No one benefits from his death either. We don’t have
any leads.” said Holmes.
Irene adorned her greenhouse. A mere 10minute walk from her home she spend most of her free time here looking at the plants grow. She had a degree in botany and mathematics before starting out as a medical doctor. Each of the flowers were handpicked from her by various
nurseries across the state. She got lost in thought staring at a pink flower in bunches. She knew oleander was used for its beauty but few knew the secrets it held.
“The cause of death is cyanide poisoning. The fatal dose is 50-60mg of pure acid but he had twice that amount in his blood. Whoever killed him wanted to make sure he dies. Death usually happen 2 to 10minutes after ingestion. You said he was found in bar right. It’s possible it was
administered with liquor to mask the bitter taste. The time of death is between 9:00pm and 12:00pm. The cyanide used was not lab grade cyanide. It was made at home.” said Irene’s assistant Jennifer to the detectives. Watson looked surprised when he asked “Is that even
possible.” “Well my dear Watson cyanide is present in little amounts in Apples, peaches, apricots’, cassava roots ...”
“Okay, I get it .Is extraction possible in fatal doses?” asked Watson. “It ispossible though it requires expertise and instruments”.
“Looks like our perfect gentleman had a secret affair with his secretary” Watson told Sherlock. He added, “His secretary turned herself in when she thought we accused her of poisoning him. She has admitted to calling the victim and fixing a meeting with him in the bar but says she could not go as her husband came home early that night. Her husband confirms her being at home” “Interesting, so who else could possibly know about the meeting.” Sherlock wondered out loud. “That is the problem. No one else did”
Irene took the pipette and dropped two drops of violet liquid into the Beaker in her laboratory adjoined to the greenhouse. She stood there for a moment aroused by the smell of fragrance she made. It was a hobby for her. Even as a child she was amused by the innocence and cuteness
of flowers yet she has seen how deadly some of the colorful flowers turned out to be. The more the pretty the more the deadly.
Remembering her childhood days also made her remember about her tragic past. Her father had cheated on her mother and her mother being a fragile women had killed herself over it. She hated anything and everything fragile for a short time till one day she accidently Discovered what some of the supposedly fragile flowers could do.
“Why are we searching about a doctor in our department when we should be looking for the murderer?” Watson asked Sherlock furiously. “I love her. Trust me, I’m the last person who want to suspect her of anything. I’m sure she is hiding something. I have no clue what. Do you remember how she said she did not smell almonds in crime scene? I know only few people can smell it but I also happen to know she can. When she first joined it was she who pointed out about smell of almonds in air and told everyone to back off in the crime scene we both were involved. We also know the crime scene was spotlessly devoid of any forensic clue. Irene has ocd. Anything she does is too perfect.
Moreover Jennifer told us that the cyanide was home made. Irene loves flowers, she even decorated a morgue with flower pots. Still when I went to her home she did not have one single plant there.”
“What does not having a single plant at homes signify?” asked Watson. “That she has her garden someplace else” replied homes.
“Irene resigned from job. She is on the run” said Sherlock. “What about her secret garden” asked Watson. “You are right” Sherlock said looking Into the database.
“It was lucky meeting her just as she was to leave her garden. Why are you sad. We closed the case.” Watson asked. “The first women I loved happen to be a serial killer with the ex-head of forensic being one of her few kills. She is known by the name Moriarity to the feds. She lives a
double life.” said Sherlock. “I still don’t understand how she knew the attorney.” said Watson. “I don’t think she did. She and his mistress went to same spa. She simply does not like men who cheats”
Sherlock said staring at the greenhouse