[John crouches down again, this time with more purpose. He's still in shock, but by God will he not be told to go and sip tea while someone else deals with this. He owes Harry this much. It's the very least he can do. The very least.]
Nine fingers. Right hand's missing one.
[That narrows any potential suspect list considerably, at least. How many nine-fingered women can there be in London? John looks up from Harry's neck to see Sherlock tugging on a piece of paper. His eyes narrow.]
They killed her because she's an alcoholic?
[Anger. Focusing on the anger helps. This doesn't particularly make sense, but it's a clue. Now they just have to keep an eye on, oh, every single bloody drunk in the city.]
no subject
Nine fingers. Right hand's missing one.
[That narrows any potential suspect list considerably, at least. How many nine-fingered women can there be in London? John looks up from Harry's neck to see Sherlock tugging on a piece of paper. His eyes narrow.]
They killed her because she's an alcoholic?
[Anger. Focusing on the anger helps. This doesn't particularly make sense, but it's a clue. Now they just have to keep an eye on, oh, every single bloody drunk in the city.]