The Side of The Angels (A Sherlock Holmes Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Thirty-Five: Bread Crumbs

The house was crowded with police when we arrived, however, the thought that really caught my eye was the woman wrapped in a shock blanket, crying into a tissue.

"Miss Mackenzie, House Mistress." Greg explained.

"I can't imagine how she must be feeling." I whispered.

"Go easy. Claudia, keep an eye on him." Greg pushed the both of us towards her and I gave Sherlock a look that repeated what Greg had said.

"Miss Mackenzie," I started, "I'm Claudia Lestrade, this is Sherlock Holmes-"

"Miss Mackenzie, you're in charge of Pupil welfare yet you left this place wide open last night! What are you, and idiot, a drunk or a criminal, Now quickly, tell me!" Sherlock yanked the blanket from her shoulders and I shook my head.

"All the doors and windows were properly bolted. No one, not even me, went into their room last night. You have to believe me." She sobbed.

"I do. I just wanted you to speak quickly. Miss Mackenzie will have to breathe into a bag now." He walked away and I repositioned the shock blanket around her shoulders.

"Sorry about him. The officers will see to any needs you might have. I can't imagine what you must be feeling. My condolences." I reached into my coat pocket, pulling out a fresh package of tissues and handing it to her.

"Thank you." She said shakily.

"That's quite the boyfriend you've got there." Sally said, walking up behind me.

"Yes, and it's quite funny that you're single and he's not." I shot back. She looked taken aback. I offered her a false smile and followed Sherlock into the building. John fell into step beside me.

"It's weird." He said.

"What is?"

"You just showed me that you're somehow his polar opposite and exactly like him all at the same time." I nodded.

"Weird indeed." We met Sherlock in the hallway and walked into the kids' rooms.

"Six grand a term, you'd expect them to keep the kids safe for you." John pointed out. Sherlock crouched down, looking into a cupboard. "So the other kids had all left on their holiday?"

"They were the only two sleeping on his floor." Greg replied. "Absolutely no sign of a break in. The intruder must have been hidden inside someplace." Sherlock looked under the bed before picking up a lacrosse stick. he dropped it on the floor with at 'thunk'. He then walked over, opening a trunk and pulling out an envelope. It was much larger, but it looked exactly like the one I had found on our front step. Sherlock pulled out the contents revealing a book of Grimm's Fairy Tales. He flipped through the pages.

"Sherlock-" I started.

"Show me where the brother slept." They all left the room, not giving me another thought. Don't mind me. Just trying to provide information that might be important. I followed them down the corridor into the boy's room

Sherlock was standing in front of the window, by the boy's bed.

"Boy sleeps there every night, gazing at the only light source, outside in the corridor. He'd recognize every shape, every outline. The silhouette of everyone who came to the door."

"Ok, so?" Lestrade asked.

"So, someone approaches the door who he doesn't recognize. An intruder. Maybe he can even see the outline of a weapon." Sherlock walks over to the door, leaving the room and closing it. We could see his shape, and the gun he made with his fingers. He opened the door again. "What would he do in the precious few seconds before they came into the room? How would he use them, if not to cry out? This little boy, this particular little boy, who reads all of those spy books. What would he do?"