“I simply cannot understand why anyone would want to live in a place like this,” Sherlock said, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“What I cannot understand,” John replied, “is why you insist on wearing your black trench coat in the middle of Miami.”
“Black clothes are perfectly acceptable in heat, John. I can recommend a book in our study that discusses black-body radiation... but I suspect there are more important things on telly for you to watch.”
“Actually, Sherlock, I’d rather spend some time at the beach.”
“It seems you’ll just have to settle for a public pool, instead,” Sherlock said, nodding at the closed down pool before them.
“Where is the body, anyway?” John asked. “I just ate lunch and I’d rather not see some poor bloke that’s been rotting under this sun all day.”
“You’re in luck, Mr Watson,” said a voice behind them. Angel Batista approached the two Englishmen and offered a handshake. “The body was found in the pool maintenance area, so he’s been rotting in a nice cool room.”
Maria LaGuerta followed behind Angel. “It is good to have you two as consultants on this case,” she said. “I’ve heard-”
“May we see the body?” Sherlock interrupted. “You two certainly make an adorable couple, but you have kept us waiting for some time.”
The two Cubans struggled for words and Watson sighed.
“The Lieutenant and I,” Angel said with a chuckle, “aren’t a couple. Not anymore, anyway. And we’re sorry that-”
“Ah,” Sherlock said. “Just a physical relationship, then?”
“Excuse me?” LaGuerta asked with an eyebrow raised.
“Oh, come now, Lieutenant... there’s not a breath of wind in the air today, but you seem to have had some difficulties managing your hair. Clearly, you attempted the near-impossible task of combing it in the car. As you were unable to repair the damage done to the back of your hair, I can see the only tool at your disposal was the rearview mirror, thus leaving that section of your hair tousled in a way which, I can assess from a professional standpoint, indicates repeated friction with a pillow.”
“Now it is our turn to apologize,” Watson said, stepping between them. “Sherlock is excellent with crime scenes, but not so much with introductions. Shall we?” he said, gesturing to the maintenance area.
The two Cubans reluctantly led the way while Watson trailed behind to scold Sherlock.
“Let’s remember that we are guests in their country, Sherlock. And that means we don’t accuse coworkers of secret affairs based on the fact that somebody is using a different perfume.”
“Oh really, John, women change their perfume for a myriad of reasons, but a relapse with a former lover is not one of them. Have you learned nothing from living with me?”
“You don’t even know that Batista was the man she had just been with.”
“Wrong. Listen to Batista cough. He has been struggling for air since he arrived. Judging by his teeth, it is a safe bet that he smokes two, maybe three packs a day. For a heavy smoker like him, coughing like that is indicative of an entanglement requiring a certain degree of... athleticism.”
“God, I hate hearing you talk about sex,” Watson cringed. “It’s like catching my grandparents in the act.”
The group arrived at the crime scene in the maintenance area. A man lay face down in a pool of blood, and crime scene investigators surrounded him, taking photographs.
“You might want to breath through your mouth,” one of the lab rats said. “The chlorine tank was punctured during the struggle, and the smell is a little intrusive.”
“Thanks, Dex,” Batista said. “What do we have here?”
Sherlock studied Dexter Morgan as the lab geek cleared his throat before describing the corpse.
“It looks like this was carried out by the Santa Maria gang. Antonio, here,” Dexter said, pointing at the dead body, “owed them a substantial amount of money. He worked as a maintenance man at this pool, so one of the Santa Maria enforcers knew to find him here.”
“That makes sense,” Batista said. “Witnesses placed Antonio at the Golden Fields racing track this morning. He must have been trying to win enough money to pay off his debt.”
“Golden Fields,” Sherlock interrupted. “That racing track is undergoing construction, correct?”
“Right,” Batista said. “You know your way around town pretty well for a guy who only got here a few days ago.”
“I remember things,” Sherlock said curtly.
Dexter cleared his throat to continue. “Antonio was cornered. It looks like the killer came at him with a blunt object.” Dexter walked towards the corpse with his hand in the air, acting out the murder. “There are plenty of wrenches or other tools around here that he could have used, assuming he didn’t bring something of his own. The killer administered a few blows to Antonio’s head during the struggle. He...” Dexter trailed off nervously when he saw Sherlock walk over to the corpse and crouch to investigate. “At one point,” Dexter continued, “the killer accidentally struck the chlorine tank, causing this dent here. It released chlorine gas into the air. Not enough to be fatal, but enough to cause the discoloration of the corpse that you can see here.
“At this point,” Dexter said, pausing to cough, “the killer wrestled Antonio to the ground and performed the signature punishment of the Santa Maria gang: cutting off the ears of the victim while he is still alive. I’d say this is an open and shut case if-”
“Wrong,” Sherlock interrupted.
“What?” Batista asked.
“Your analysis is flawed,” Sherlock said without taking his eyes off of the corpse. “The blows to the head were administered on the ground. There are injuries on both sides of his skull, but they are different types of injuries. The left side of the head has suffered blunt force trauma from the weapon in question, but the damage to the right side of the skull is less concentrated in individual contact points. It shows that the victim's head was on its right side, and that damage was caused by the victim being struck while he was on the ground. Further, the cuts on the ears are too clean. The ears were obviously removed after the victim had died, otherwise he would have struggled, causing more erratic slashing motions.”
“It’s possible that the victim was unconscious or in shock when the ears were removed,” Dexter replied.
“It is possible,” Sherlock said, rising to his feet and locking eyes with Dexter. “But I suspect that something else is at work here. I think somebody followed Antonio here in the hopes of taking him to a more covert location. Something went wrong, and a struggle broke out. With chlorine gas filling the room, the killer knew that he would have to deal with the victim here. The killer bludgeoned Antonio to death on the ground, removed his ears to make it appear to be a gang-related killing, and fled.”
“That’s an interesting theory,” Dexter said.
The two men locked eyes for a few seconds. “Well,” Sherlock said in a chipper voice, “it is still just a theory. You’ve done some fantastic detective work, Mr Morgan. Now, I have to go do some of my own. Lieutenant,” Sherlock said as he walked for the door, “I’ll be in touch.”
Watson remained frozen in place as Sherlock left. After a second, he smiled awkwardly at the Americans and followed his countryman.
“What the hell are you doing?” Watson said after the two had reached their car. “We’ve come all the way here to investigate these killings and you’re not going to-”
“Antonio’s killer was in that room, John,” Sherlock said. “I need to do some research into the life of Dexter Morgan.”
“Look, Sherlock,” Watson said, pointing his finger, “you need to be sure of what you’re doing before we start accusing a man in the police department of murder.”
“I have every reason to suspect that Morgan was the man responsible.”
Watson slumped in his seat and folded his arms. After a few seconds of silence, he said, “I know you can’t wait to tell me, so just go ahead.”
“Antonio had been seen at the Golden Fields racing track earlier today. Morgan was there as well. Both Morgan and Antonio had similar flecks of green paint on the shoulders of their shirts.”
“Hold on, Sherlock,” Watson interrupted. “You cannot go making accusations like this based on paint. It could have come from anywhere.”
“Come now, John, even you can remember the distinctive vomit-like shade of green on the lettering of the entrance sign to Golden Fields. As Batista confirmed, the entrance to the arena was under construction. The construction caused vibrations at the gate and, considering how long it had been since the sign was last painted, everybody entering the field was showered with green paint chips. That includes Morgan and Antonio.”
“Maybe Morgan just went to the horse races on his own. What nature of evidence do you have that shows that Morgan followed Antonio to the crime scene?”
“It’s elementary, Watson.”
“It cannot be that obvious.”