InsaneJournal

parker succeeds by stealing the success of others (inafivepoundbag) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2010-08-24 14:08:00

Entry tags:

parker, sherlock holmes

WHO: Sherlock Holmes and Parker
WHAT: Crowley's been murdered. Sherlock is on the case.
WHEN: Not long after this.
WHERE: Crowley's office, which Parker has since commandeered.
RATING: TBD
STATUS: In Progress

Parker was considering getting a new chair. It wasn't that the chair she was sitting in was uncomfortable, really, but it wasn't designed to lean back while she had her feet propped up on the desk. As that was one of her favorite ways of sitting, she was thinking a new chair was in order. With a small, pleased little grin she cast a critical eye across the office. There were a few things she was going to change, now that this was hers. And it was hers. Or, at least, the safe that contained quite a large bit of cash - plus the profits from the casino - were hers. She really could care less about the stuff.

Dropping her sneaker-covered feet onto the ground with a thud, she hunched forward then surged up, out of her seat. Idly she ran a fingertip along the edge of the desk as she moved around it with that same self-satisfied smile upon her face. Part of her did miss Crowley but, really, it was for the best that he was gone. She hadn't liked the idea of having to kill Sam Winchester. She hadn't liked giving most of her earnings over to Crowley, either. Which is why she'd told Mary about the hit on her son.

Parker liked to think that Crowley would understand. Business was business, after all. She wanted a bigger cut. This gave her the largest amount. It was simple.

Moving toward the bookcase, the blonde paused a few steps away. She frowned ever so slightly, lips pressed together and forehead creased. Then her face went blank. "Oh. It's you. Shouldn't you be with the body?" she asked. Her gaze was on the mirror on one of the shelves of the bookcase, that offered her a view of the door. Or more importantly, the man standing in the doorway. The one man, if the stories were to be believed, who could possibly ruin everything for her.

With a sigh, she turned to size him up. Arms crossed over her chest, back ramrod straight, Parker tipped her head toward the chairs. "Want to have a seat?" That was what people asked, right? She thought so. It seemed the right thing to say.

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reasonbackward
2010-08-24 09:04 pm UTC (link)

"Does it have anything to do with the fact that the contents of the vault are now up for grabs?" Sherlock asked, the attention that he'd had focused on Parker remaining intense for a moment before it started to slip away, his eyes turning instead to the items in the room, building in a mental map of the place to be used later if necessary. "Easy money when you can just open the door."

Love or money, the two main motivating factors in murder, and he had someone sitting in front of him with a clear lust for money. If he had been any regular old DI, that would have been it, open and shut case, but Sherlock was far more observant than that.

No, the tools that those hands (well calloused along the thumb and forefinger as well as along the palms and over the knuckles) were used to dealing with were small and intricate or consisted of tightly woven fibers. And he was pretty sure he hadn't seen any ligature marks on the body. She certainly couldn't have wielded a knife well enough to make such clean, precise stab wounds that anyone that wasn't him would have mistaken for frenzied and brutal.

Leaning forward and picking an object off of the desk that warranted farther study, Sherlock added, "And it would take approximately 5.2 seconds to boost the air vent and disappear, if you find yourself truly aching for an exit. I have been told I make people want to flee when I'm around," He said, setting the object back down on the desk and looking up at her with a quirk of a smile. "And I'm sure you're prepared," He said, glancing towards her pockets.

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inafivepoundbag
2010-08-24 09:18 pm UTC (link)

Parker gave a faint shrug of her shoulders. "It has everything to do with that," she agreed easily enough. "I like money. Crowley knew that. Everybody knows it. Money is good. But I'm not killing somebody for a safe with a little over six figures in it. That's just stupid."Pausing, she stayed still as he observed her then snorted when he spoke again.

"More like 4.5 seconds, tops," she stated in a matter of fact tone. Her lips were curved upward into a ghost of a smile, her eyes shining with obvious amusement. "Four seconds flat if I don't replace the grate."

Reaching onto the desk, she picked up a file and held it out for him. "Here's a list of all of the employees. Eliot and I were out on some business when it happened. I'm not sure about the others. There are cameras just about everywhere if you want the footage. The security room is on the main floor, fifty-seven point four feet from the entrance to the slot machines." Once again she spoke as though reciting from a list, as though not knowing what else to say prompted her to do her best impression of what a normal person ought to say.

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reasonbackward
2010-08-24 09:33 pm UTC (link)

4.5, of course. He hadn't calculated out for the difference in their height and weight ratios. Not that crawling into vents was something that he did often. He could fit, of course, but he much preferred talking his way into a place than taking the hidden back door. But it would do in a pinch. Taking the list of names, Sherlock didn't even offer a thank you or question about who this Eliot person she was talking about was and why he was so important that she needed to make sure he was covered but none of the rest of them.

Flipping up the file, Sherlock scanned the names, registering her monotonous and seemingly scripted speech in the back of his mind. Nothing to bring up right now, no, but it was definitely worth making a note on for later. "Security cameras won't show me anything," Sherlock said, not even looking up for the paper. "A job like this, they've been wiped of anything that might have been useful." Though, looped or wiped would give him some idea of just how preplanned this attack had been.

But still, he had the what, the where, and the how. He just needed the who and, most importantly, the why.

"What sort of business dealings had he had recently?" Best to get the money motive out of the way first. It was typically the cleanest one and potentially not something he would need John here to translate for.

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inafivepoundbag
2010-08-24 10:49 pm UTC (link)

Parker shrugged, leaning back in the chair - as much as it would allow her to, that is - and propping her feet up on the desk. She folded her hands across her abdomen and peered up at the ceiling. "Besides the casino, he was mostly running bets. Padding the books then taking folks to the cleaners," she answered honestly. Her eyes flickered to Sherlock and the corners of her mouth quirked upward slightly. "But like I said. Demon. He could've been doing a hundred different things and he wouldn't have seen fit to tell me."

That didn't mean, of course, that Parker wasn't aware of some of the things going-on. She had been watching the casino for a while. Casing it, in a way. There wasn't much that took place there that she didn't know. She just saw no reason to discuss any of it. Why should she do the guy's job for him? He wanted to solve the murder, he could figure out what Crowley had been up to.

Still. In the interest of not seeming too callous, Parker tossed out an added, "Crowley was a go-to type of guy. If you needed something, he could find it. Comes in handy in a place like this."

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