Title:Mythology And Murder- A Mystery In the A Different Take Universe

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, DI Lestrade, Sally Donovan, Molly Hooper, Original Character, plus an appearance or two of Mycroft Holmes and Anthea

Genre: Humor, Friendship, Mystery, Drama,

Warnings: Murder, Violence, Allusions To Past Drug Abuse,

Author's Notes: This story is set in the A Different Take Universe I have written. The three main installments are A Scandal In Belgravia, The Hounds Of Baskerville, and Reichenbach Falls. This one here takes place after ASIB.

Summary: A series of murders where the murder weapons are a bit baffling to some has Lestrade and his team frustrated and at wits end. Lestrade has no choice to call in Sherlock. But what no one expected, were the surprises Sherlock would bring with him.


Prologue: A Deadly Discovery


Date: September 29th, 2010

Location: A Gallery In Central London

Time: 5 pm


Ghouls, the lot of them. How can one feel so much delight in a death? It was reminding her how they were all over those serial suicides in the winter.

"Bugger.. Julie, can you see what's taking Mitch so long with that bloody statue?"

"Most likely taking a bit of a nap," she says distractedly, her attention still on the article.

"Will you stop reading that rubbish and go see what's taking Mitch so long."

"They found the latest body two days ago," she answers, setting the newspaper down though.

"And like usual, the police had no ruddy idea," the burly man next to her says with irritation.

"Their doing the best they can," she counters.

"Right. I have to finish this stage before Morgan comes breathing fire."

Julie rolls her eyes at Ryan's grumbling and heads to the back door of the gallery. She swipes her identification card which opens the door and she starts walking down the hallway... it's quiet and dark and creepy.

She never liked the store room, it always unnerved her the few times she had to come back here.

She pauses halfway to the storeroom when she hears a crash. Then the sound of Mitch, the other worker she was sent to find, yelling.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? What is wrong you? Don't-" His words are cut off suddenly and Julie hears nothing but what sounds like a groan and some thumps.

Julie hears a laugh then. That's it for as she runs back to the front of the gallery, screaming for Ryan.


Date: September 29th, 2010

Location: A Gallery In Central London

Time: 6 pm


Lestrade stares at the sight in front of him.

A man named Mitch Harkum dead on the floor.

With a trident pinning him to said floor.

His blood used as a message.

Just like the other three victims; Paulette Dystrom, Lyle Hansen, and Ingrid Everheart.

Bloody fantastic.

The papers are going to have a field day. He hates doing press conferences.

Members of the art world murdered by their art.

Not just any art. No, it had to be more than that. They all had projects dealing with the world of Greek and Roman Mythology.

Each one died by a weapon that was supposed to be a God's. Then, either on the wall or the floor, a message written in the blood of the victim. In Greek.

It was their luck that the only people that knew how to translate Greek told them that this was an ancient dialect and one they had no experience with.

Each death was getting more and more attention by the bloody media. His DCI was starting to get up arse about it too.

Yesterday's press conference resulted in four mass texts from Sherlock Holmes.. once again Donovan got on his case about that.

The only decent thing that can come from this latest murder is in the form of a witness. She didn't see anything, but she heard.

It's a start at least.

Lestrade sighs and gets out his mobile.

"Sir?" He hears Donovan asks sharply. He looks up to see her stepping away from Anderson and coming over to him.

"We need him," Lestrade says flatly. He scowls as she opens her mouth to argue. "I don't want to hear it. Go take care of the barricades please, help the officers keep the press back."

"Yes, sir," she says bitingly and stalks ahead.

Lestrade pinches the bridge of his nose, swallowing his pride as he waits for Holmes to answer.

Four rings later and that superior drawling voice answers. "Sherlock Holmes."