Sherlock was slightly surprised to see her there (even if he wouldn't admit it), but he continued on to the crime scene.

"And the Freak is here," Donovan muttered with a sigh.

"I'd say he's not so bad but he kind of can be." Elena shrugged. "I'm sorry, I'm sure I'm in your way, and I've taken up enough of your time. It was lovely chatting with you, though."

"No, don't worry about it," Donovan said. "I'm likely to be stuck out here, anyways, and it's good to have someone to chat with." She pulled a face. "I hate it when the Freak shows up, he grates on us all."

"He's... not a people person. At all." Elena made a face. "But at least John's nice enough."

"I don't know how he can put up with him, to be honest," Donovan said. "I really don't. He must be a saint." She paused for a moment. "Hey, you seem to talk to them. Tell me, is it true Watson's got himself another girlfriend?"

Elena blinked at the unexpected question. "Um. Yeah, he does. How'd you hear about that?"

"Word gets around," Donovan said. She grinned a bit. "Everyone at the Yard is a bloody gossip. There's a betting pool over how long this one'll last."

"If I were you, I'd bet on something longer than normal." Elena grinned. "Just as a bit of friendly advice."

"Really?" Donovan asked, interested. "None of Watson's girlfriends lasted longer than a couple of months."

Elena just grinned. "This one's different," she said. "But you'll find out in time. I need to get going; I have an interview in a few hours I have to get ready for."

"Ah, well, good luck, then," Donovan said. "Hopefully the Freak will leave soon and I can get back to my actual job."

"Good luck," Elena said feelingly with a little grin before she headed back towards the apartment to get ready for her interview. She didn't expect she'd end up doing anything more with that case, after all.

For the moment, Sherlock was baffled on the case, and he hated it.

He knew the suicide and murder were connected, he just knew it, but they had happened at two different locations at two different times, and there wasn't much link between the two. The media was trying to call it a coincidence, but he knew better. He just had to prove it. But he hadn't yet, and it was putting him into a foul mood when he got back to his flat.

Elena, after her interview, had been curious and had gone to check out some information on the two victims, looking into them a bit. Really, it was just to pass the time, because she trusted the police (and Sherlock, as far as solving the case went).

Which is why, when she did find the missing link, she figured Sherlock would already know and didn't bother to ask him.

Sherlock was having a hell of a time finding the link. There was very little connecting a man in his forties with a young twenty-something girl from the other end of London, and something just wasn't adding up for him. He growled a bit and threw a pillow across the main room of the flat in frustration. Then he put on his coat and scarf and stormed outside. Perhaps going to bother Lestrade would help him think.

"Sherlock," John groaned when he saw the coat come out. "Where are you going? No, scratch that, I already know. You don't need to go bother Lestrade, he's not going to have answers for you."

"Of course he's not," Sherlock said. "If I don't have the answer, then he can't possibly. But perhaps there's more to the case that hasn't been brought to his attention yet, it would be prudent to check."

"You've already checked with him four times," John said, exasperated. "Pretty soon he's going to start chasing you out, or actually lock you up for disturbing him or something."

"He has no reason to," Sherlock said. "I'm bored, John, and this case makes no sense at all, there must be something that was missed."

John sighed and held up his hands. "Fine, but if you get thrown in jail, I am not bailing you out until the morning."

"That's what you said last time." With that, Sherlock turned and left the flat, his coat flaring behind him a bit. Time to go bother Lestrade.

Elena was at the police station, still getting settled into the job. So far, she'd had about half the other secretaries offer her help and bring her tea and chat with her.

Sherlock made it to the station quickly, walking through the doors as if he owned the place. He would have just yelled out for Lestrade, but even he had better manners than that. So he went over to Lestrade's office door instead.

"Lestrade," he said, "do you have any more on that case? There must be more, there are too many elements that don't fit together, and yet the two are linked. There is something that must have been overlooked."

"You've already seen everything," Lestrade said, only glancing up from his paperwork briefly. "There have been no new developments at this point, Sherlock."

Elena heard the two and blinked a bit. He hadn't gotten it yet? Really, she'd made the connection two days ago.

"They knew each other," she said, looking at Sherlock. "She was a waitress at the restaurant he went to almost every Tuesday night."

Sherlock blinked as the information clicked together in his mind.

"Of course," he said. "And he was the murder, she was the suicide, so she must have killed herself over his death. But why? Was it because she was fond of him? Or was the killer someone she knew?" He turned to Lestrade. "I need more information, get your people on it."