Chapter 9: The man behind the mask

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That night, I cried silently into my pillow, missing Irene. But living with Sherlock meant that nothing could cause me to hold onto an issue for long, something would always come up every few days. Luckily for me, a distraction from my grief came in the form of my news feed on my phone the very next morning.

*****

*Bing*

I groaned and rubbed at my swollen eyelids with one hand, which were still stinging from my tears and felt around my beside cabinet for my phone. Finally, using my free hand, I picked it up and turned it on to check the notification.

New Year's party this Saturday at MP's manor, invite only

I scrolled through the story, which had pictures of the luxurious manor, but I stopped at one picture and zoomed in to the wall. There was a mark that only a curator assassin would leave on a targeted house.

 My eyes went wide and I let out an audible gasp. Leaping out of bed and throwing my dressing gown over me, I rushed into the living room of 221B and starting yelling.

"Sherlock! Sherlock!" But he was nowhere to be seen. John pushed the door to the living room open, yawning and still in pyjamas.

"He went out about an hour ago, why are you yelling?"

"Look, I found something. Something that only a curator assassin would leave on a household that they're targeting." I zoomed into the mark and showed John.

"Holy shit, how long do we have?"

"I'd say new years, then they have all their eggs in one basket, one bomb and it's all over."

"That's five days!"

"Exactly! So where's Sherlock?"

"Scotland Yard, Lestrade called him out for a case this morning."

I groaned and decided to just send a text.

'New years party at MPs house, curator mark left on a wall, new years attack seems likely.'

'Give me two hours, on a case right now.' -SH

*****

John was writing his blog and I was scrolling through my phone on the sofa when the door to the living room flew open and Sherlock burst through.

"Give me the phone." He snatched my phone out of my hand.

"Hey-" But he gestured for me to shush whilst he looked at the picture.

"We need to get into that party." 

"How?"

"Have you forgotten? My brother is practically the British government itself!"

*****

"Mycroft! This is important! Your government is at stake!"

The Holmes brothers were arguing loudly over the phone whilst me and John eavesdropped outside the door, it appeared that Mycroft was in a very bad mood and didn't want to help Sherlock with getting free party tickets. 

"I have to take the case in Birmingham? That's boring."

There was silence before Sherlock huffed loudly.

"Fine. I'll take the case in Birmingham, if you give me the tickets."

After a few more seconds of silence, the call ended and Sherlock opened the door suddenly, making me and John jump.

"You two would make terrible spies." 

"Don't scare us like that!" I groaned. Sherlock ignored me and John went back to his laptop, so I went back onto my phone. Sherlock started on the Birmingham case and solved it later that night, putting him in a better mood.

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