In just a few minutes, he had found clues that the security team hadn't noticed all day. While specialization was key, this detective's efficiency seemed a little too rapid.
Perhaps the Superintendent of the London Police was right. If anyone can crack this case within 24 hours, it's only him, Katherine thought reluctantly. She didn't voice this, but questioned him matter-of-factly: "YES? What does that signify?"
"I don't know," Sherlock replied, standing up. "But I can sense that this word holds a particularly profound meaning for the killer. There's also one other thing."
He paused, walking slowly to the other side of the corpse and lowering his face toward the area between the victim's legs.
To be honest, the posture looked a bit lewd, but fortunately, Executor Balthur didn't interrupt this time.
"Why were all the other internal organs shredded, but the uterus was left completely intact?"
"Perhaps that's the killer's habit?" Katherine said coolly.
"No." Sherlock dismissed the suggestion without hesitation. "This killer is a serial murderer; he brutally killed over a dozen women in the Lower District. This level of surgical skill is rare.
In all the previous victims, every internal organ was removed, including the uterus. But this time, the killer deliberately preserved it, while cutting the rest of the organs into four pieces.
Also, this killer doesn't usually take the victim's clothing.
Why did he change his habits when dealing with this lady?"
He muttered to himself.
Seeing his intrigued expression, Katherine quickly voiced the confusion felt by everyone present: "You seem very familiar with this murderer?"
"Because I've been following him," Sherlock said as if it were obvious. "It's what I do. I know more or less about every killer on the wanted list. Under normal circumstances, I would have started working on his case in about four months."
"…" While the answer was plausible, it left Miss Katherine speechless for two seconds.
"Alright… then what do you plan to do next?"
Sherlock slipped his hands into the pockets of his trench coat:
"The killer is fixated on [4]."
"He abnormally preserved the uterus."
"He took the clothes."
"The word [YES] was carved onto the organs."
He began to pace slowly on the spot, murmuring to himself as he walked.
A long moment passed.
He suddenly reached out and vigorously rubbed his neck and shoulders: "The best next step is for me to go home and get some sleep."
…??
Everyone around froze for an instant.
Even the elderly Priest, who had been softly snoring in the distance, slightly opened his eyes.
"Go back… and sleep?" Executor Balthur's tone finally shifted slightly.
In the commoner's perception, Executors of the Judgment Division were generally unemotional enforcement machines. Bloody purges and cruel interrogations were their trademarks.
They were permitted to marry, though this was largely a way to perpetuate their superior bloodlines. But even so, Sherlock couldn't ignore the identity of the victim in this murder case.
The Executor, Balthur, undoubtedly had feelings for his wife. Whether that feeling was the possessiveness of private property or something else didn't matter.
His wife was chopped up and strewn all over the ground, and at this moment, you say you want to go home and sleep?!
"Watch your words! That is disrespect toward a Church official!"
The young security officer at the alley entrance immediately roared out in a low voice.
He couldn't help it; this was his duty—a loyal, easily enraged, and desperately devout hound, or rather, cannon fodder.
However, without orders from his superiors, he could only rage at the alley entrance, not daring to step inside.
Sherlock gave a slow, half-bow: "Apologies, Your Excellency Executor. I did not intend to offend the Church, you, or your wife. It is simply that there is no longer any need for me to remain here."
"What do you mean?" Katherine was certainly easier to communicate with than the taciturn Executor Balthur.
"It means I have finished observing the scene. Staying here would only waste time. It's better for me to return to my familiar apartment and be alone comfortably for a while. That will aid my thought process." Sherlock tapped his index finger against his head.
Katherine's brow remained furrowed. She understood the statement 'a comfortable environment aids thinking,' but…
"You've finished observing the entire scene?"
"Of course," Sherlock said rapidly. "I've observed every detail here.
Well… for example, I can now roughly deduce that the killer is male, around 190 cm tall, with a strong build, from a wealthy background, ambidextrous, sexually aggressive, lived in the town of Rochester during his childhood, suffered considerable unfair treatment or torment, and has a severe desire for revenge.
He is usually highly self-disciplined but arrogant, enjoys killing, and likes to eat raw beef.
He lives in a large residence, possibly an estate, with many portraits hanging inside and exquisite decor.
He has a hobby of raising livestock, does not have much body hair, prefers to wear form-fitting pure cotton clothing, and has an old injury to his right ribs…"
He spoke faster and faster until the security officer's suppressed growl arrived right on cue: "Civilian! You—you cannot talk nonsense in front of Church officials! You have no piety!"
No one stopped the security officer's outburst. Because neither Katherine, Executor Balthur, nor the elderly Priest actually believed a word of it. They all felt… this detective must be talking absolute nonsense…
Deducing the killer's physical characteristics and personality from the knife wounds, the dismemberment technique, and the angle of the blood splatter was plausible.
But to deduce what the killer likes to eat, where he lives, what he wears, and even an old injury—that didn't add up, no matter how you looked at it.
Besides, he had only been standing in this place for half an hour.
Sherlock smiled, having anticipated this reaction. He was naturally too lazy to explain any of this. But judging by the situation, if he didn't explain himself, he wasn't going to be leaving this place today.
——————
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