"It's very faint but it's there. Come on, John, you're a doctor..." the way it trails off is like he's hopeful, like he's sure he'll see. Like he's waiting on the other side for John, holding out a hand, encouraging in his own way. But there's also the subtle note of tone in his voice that suggests that sentence could end, 'you're a doctor, or aren't you?' It's often hard to know if Sherlock is being encouraging, or if he's goading. Sometimes it's both.
"Here," he says, and points. It's a close up photo of the neck. He grows tired of waiting for John to catch up before even a few seconds pass, and he's off to the races with walking him, or rather, running him through what he's just seen.
"The ligature marks. They're all wrong for just a hanging... it's almost hard to see, but they're horizontal... right here," now he's bloody well drawing over the line with his finger and the look on John's face is just as vacant as ever, like he can't see it. The thing is, they're also vertical - they were hanged - but there's a light, muddy colored bruise and faint rope burn that indicates struggle.
"See, they were hanged, but first there was a struggle..." Sherlock produces a length of rope from the pocket of his coat and in a startlingly swift move, wraps the ends around his hands and loops the center around John's neck and uses it to draw him back against his chest. For illustrative purposes, of course. There's not enough pressure that there's any danger, not enough to even warrant a struggle. It's just alarming, he'd imagine.
"There were rope burns... not just here," he shifts his hands and lets the rope draw upwards, along the line of his jaw, the way it would be oriented if John were hanging, "but also here..." his voice rumbles against John's ear as he brings the rope back down, horizontal across his throat and gives a little tug that serves just to rub the rope along his skin.
"And these were muddy, like the rope was moved around, like he fought... whereas the vertical ones left distinct impressions from the shapes of the rope..."
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"Here," he says, and points. It's a close up photo of the neck. He grows tired of waiting for John to catch up before even a few seconds pass, and he's off to the races with walking him, or rather, running him through what he's just seen.
"The ligature marks. They're all wrong for just a hanging... it's almost hard to see, but they're horizontal... right here," now he's bloody well drawing over the line with his finger and the look on John's face is just as vacant as ever, like he can't see it. The thing is, they're also vertical - they were hanged - but there's a light, muddy colored bruise and faint rope burn that indicates struggle.
"See, they were hanged, but first there was a struggle..." Sherlock produces a length of rope from the pocket of his coat and in a startlingly swift move, wraps the ends around his hands and loops the center around John's neck and uses it to draw him back against his chest. For illustrative purposes, of course. There's not enough pressure that there's any danger, not enough to even warrant a struggle. It's just alarming, he'd imagine.
"There were rope burns... not just here," he shifts his hands and lets the rope draw upwards, along the line of his jaw, the way it would be oriented if John were hanging, "but also here..." his voice rumbles against John's ear as he brings the rope back down, horizontal across his throat and gives a little tug that serves just to rub the rope along his skin.
"And these were muddy, like the rope was moved around, like he fought... whereas the vertical ones left distinct impressions from the shapes of the rope..."