"John, Sherlock." You called. "I need to tell you something."
"Yes?" John answered as he stopped on walking and turn to face you while Sherlock stopped beside you.
"Erm.. I- I have a n-new mission." you said nervously.
Sherlock didn't said anything nor look at you, he just walk towards the cab leaving you and John.
"Er... how long?" John asked.
You shrug, "One to two weeks?"
"Where?"
"Dublin, I need to retrieve some information."
"Just take care. And please, don't get shot this time." He said, smiling at you as he pats your shoulder.
"I cannot guarantee you that." You winks and chuckled.
"Come on, let's go to Mr. Welsborough's."
You nodded and walks towards the cab.
"Seat beside Sherlock, I'm fine in there." John said as he points the other seat.
You sat beside Sherlock while Lestrade took the front seat.
"How's Rosie, John?" You asked, breaking the silence.
"Uh, she's fine. Waking up every hour especially when I'm about to close my eyes." He said, chuckling.
"Can I visit her before I go?" You asked.
"Sur--"
"Can you two shut up? Especially you (y/n)! I'm trying to think here, can't you see?" Sherlock suddenly burst out.
You knits your eyebrows and looks at him, he's not looking at you or at John. "Fine!" You said, crossing your arms. You put your gaze to the road and the whole ride was silent.
WELSBOROUGH HOUSE
You and the boys are walking along the drive towards the house, "Charlie’s family are pretty cut up about it, as you’d expect, so go easy on them, yeah?" Lestrade said.
"You know me." Sherlock said.
John’s phone started ringing, a Skype call from Mary and John answers it. "Hey, hello!" Mary said, happily. You lean closer to John and wave at Mary who's holding Rosie, she wave back at you.
"Got ’em, don’t worry. Pampers; the cream you can’t get from Boots." John said to her.
"Yeah, never mind about that. Where are you now? At the dead boy’s house?"
"Yeah."
"And what does they think? Any theories?"
"Uh, well, I texted you the details."
"Yeah, two different types of vinyl."
Sherlock looks round and snatches John’s phone from him. "Hey!" John said, you're still not speaking a word since your ride in the cab.
"How do you know about that?" Sherlock asked.
"Oh, you’d be amazed at what a receptionist picks up. They know everything!" She said, making you smirk.
"Solved it, then?" Sherlock said.
"I’m working on it."
"Oh, Mary, motherhood’s slowing you down."
"Pig!"
"Keep trying." He hands the phone back to John as you all approach the front door.
"So, what about it, then?" She asked John as you glances upwards as you step into the porch. "What, an empty car that suddenly has a week-old corpse in it? And what are you gonna call this one?"
"Ooh, the ... uh, The Ghost Driver." John answered.
Sherlock stopped, "Don’t give it a title." He said.
"People like the titles."
"We hate the titles." Sherlock said.
"We?" John asked.
"Yes! (y/n) hates it too!"
John looked at you but you just shrug.
"Give the people what they want." John said.
"No, never do that. People are stupid." Sherlock said.
"Uh, some people." Mary said and you nodded.
Sherlock leans over to look into the camera. "All people are stupid. ...Most people." He straightens up again. John smiles and then winks into the camera while you wave goodbye to Mary and then shuts the phone off.
"Bizarre enough, though, isn’t it, to be him?" Lestrade said looking at Sherlock. "I mean, it’s right up your strasse." Sherlock throws him a look and then heads towards a nearby closed door. A man opens it and leads you and the boys into a room where Mr. And Mrs. Welsborough are sitting on a sofa. They stand as Sherlock walks towards them.
"Mr. and Mrs. Welsborough." He takes Mrs. Welsborough's hand to shakes it. "I really am most terribly sorry to hear about your daughter."
"Son." John corrected.
"Son." Sherlock said.
As you shake Mr. and Mrs. Welsborough's hands as Lestrade said "Mr. and Mrs. Welsborough, they are Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Ms. (your full name)."
"Thank you very much for coming. We’ve heard a great deal about you two. If anyone can throw any light into this darkness, surely it will be you." Mr. Welsborough said.
"Well, I believe that I ..." Sherlock slowly said as he glances to his right and trails off, something catches his attention. "... can."
You look at Mr. Welsborough, "Charlie was our whole world, Mr. Holmes." He said, then he starts talking nonsense so you got lost as you thought about the porch light outside the house.
You came back to reality when John, who is standing between you and Sherlock, speaks, "Sherlock?"
You look at Sherlock and he is looking at the table near the windows. Sherlock gasps in a small breath and turns to them. "Sorry. You were saying?"
"Well, Charlie was our whole world, Mr Holmes. I- I don’t think we’ll ever get over this."
Nodding, Sherlock turns his head toward the table again. "No, shouldn’t think so." He continues to stare at the table, frowning, then pulls in another breath and looks at the couple. "So sorry. Will you excuse me a moment? I just ..." He turns and walks closer to the table. Mr. Welsborough looks at you but you turn your gaze at the table where Sherlock is looking.
"I’ll just, um ..." Clearing his throat, John follows Sherlock, who stops in front of the table and looks down at it. The Welsboroughs sit down and John walks to Sherlock’s side. "Now what’s wrong?"
"Not sure. I just ... ‘By the pricking of my thumbs.’"
Scoffing sarcastically, John said "Seriously? You?!"
"Intuitions are not to be ignored, John. They represent data processed too fast for the conscious mind to comprehend." He turns to the Welsboroughs while pointing to the table. "What is this?"
"Oh, it’s a sort of shrine, I suppose, really." Mr Welsborough stands up and walks over to the boys. "Bit of a fan of Mrs T. Big hero of mine when I was getting started."
Smiling politely at him, Sherlock takes his magnifier from his pocket and clicks it open "Right, yes." He bends down to look more closely at the table, then frowns and straightens up again. "Who?"
"What?"
"Who-who is this?" He gestures to the table. You hear the on going conversation, but you still chose not to say any word, just listening.
"Are you serious?"
"Sherlock." John called.
"It’s ... it’s Margaret Thatcher, the first female prime minister of this country."
"Right." He has bent down to look at the table again but now straightens up.
"Prime minister?"
Starting to sound a little tetchy, "Mm. Leader of the government." Mr Welsborough answered.
"Right." He squats down again, then lifts his head. "Female?"
"For God’s sake. You know perfectly well who she is." John said as Mr Welsborough walks away and John steps closer. "Why are you playing for time?"
"It’s the gap. Look at the gap. It’s wrong. Everything else is perfectly ordered, managed. This whole thing’s verging on OCD." He turns to look at the Welsborough's, pointing back to the table. "My respects. This figurine is routinely repositioned after the cleaner’s been in." He points to the official picture. "This picture’s straightened every day, yet this ugly gap remains." He points to the vacant spot in the middle of the table. "Something's missing from here, but only recently." He squats down again to focus on the scratched leather.
"Yes, a plaster bust." Mr Welsborough said.
"... plaster bust." Sherlock said at the same time.
"Oh, for God’s sake. It got broken. What the hell has this got to do with Charlie?" Mrs. Welsborough said.
Straightening up and speaking loudly as he clicks his magnifier closed, "Rug!"
"What?" Mrs. Welsborough said.
"Well, how could it get broken? The only place for it to fall is the floor, and there is a big thick rug."
"Does it matter?" She asked.
"Mrs Welsborough, my apologies. It is worth letting him do this." John said.
"Is your friend quite mad?"
"No, he’s an arsehole, but it’s an easy mistake."
"Look, no, we had a break-in. Some little bastard smashed it to bits. We found the remains out there in the porch." Mr. Welsborough said, sounding angry.
"The porch where we came in?" You said, speaking for the first time.
Mr. Welsborough nodded and said, "How anybody could hate her so much, they’d go to the trouble of smashing her likeness."
"I’m no expert but, er, possibly her face? Why didn’t he smash all the others? Perfect opportunity, and look at that one." Sherlock points to the official photo. "She’s smiling in that one."
"Oh, Inspector, this is clearly a waste of time. I mean, if there’s nothing more .."
"We know what happened to your son." Sherlock said.
The parents stare at him hopefully. "You do?" Mrs. Welsborough asked, looking at Sherlock then to you.
You just smiled pitiful at her and nodded.
"It’s quite simple. Superficial, to be blunt. But first, tell me: the night of the break-in. This room was in darkness?" Sherlock asked.
"Well, yes." Mr. Welsborough answered.
"And the porch where it was smashed: I noticed the motion sensor was damaged, so I assume it’s permanently lit." You said, slightly getting into the conversation. Sherlock nodded.
"How’d you notice that?" Lestrade asked, sounding amused.
"We lack the arrogance to ignore details. We're not the police, Mr. Lestrade." You said harshly.
"So you two were saying he smashed it where he could see it." John said.
"Exactly." Sherlock said.
"Why?"
"Dunno. Wouldn’t be fun if I knew."
"Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, please." Mrs. Welsborough said.
"Erm, actually it's (last name)..." you mumbles.
Not minding what Mrs. Welsborough said, Sherlock straightens up and turns towards them. He takes a breath. "It was your fiftieth birthday, Mr Welsborough; of course you were disappointed that your son hadn’t made it back from his gap year. After all, he was in Tibet."
"Yes." Mr. Welsborough answered.
"No." You said, looking at Mr. Welsborough.
"No?" Mr. Welsborough asked, and you nod your head.
"The first part of your conversation was, in fact, pre-recorded video. Easily arranged. The trick was meant to be a surprise." Sherlock said.
"Trick?"
"Obviously. There were two types of vinyl in the burnt-out remains of the car: one the actual passenger seat; the other a good copy. Well, good enough. Effectively a costume." You explained.
"You’re joking." Mr Welsborough said to you.
"No, she's not. What he wanted was for you to get close enough to the car so he could spring the surprise. That’s when it happened. I can’t be certain, of course, but I think that Charlie must have suffered some sort of a seizure." Sherlock said, looking at you.
You nodded in agreement and asks Mr. Welsborough, "You said he’d felt unwell?" Mr. Welsborough nodded and you continue on speaking, "He died there and then. No-one had any cause to go near his car, so there he remained in the driver’s seat hidden until that drunk driver’s car smashed into his car. When the two cars were examined, the fake seat had melted in the fire, revealing Charlie, who’d been sitting there quite dead for a week."
Mrs. Welsborough breaks down in tears. "Oh, God!" Staring at you in shock, Mr. Welsborough reaches across to comfort his wife.
"Poor kid." Lestrade said.
"Really, I’m so sorry. Mr. Welsborough, Mrs. Welsborough." Sherlock said and he walks rapidly out of the room and is soon examining the concrete on the porch with his magnifier. "This is where it was smashed." He said as you, John and Lestrade are just joining him.
"That was amazing." Lestrade said, looking at you.
You raised an eyebrow, "What?"
"The car, the kid."
You just hmmms and nodded whilst Sherlock said, "Ancient history. Why are you still talking about it?"
"What’s so important about a broken bust of Margaret Thatcher?" John asked him.
Straightening up, he answered "Can’t stand it. Never can. There’s a loose thread in the world."
"Yeah, doesn’t mean you have to pull on it." John said.
"What kind of a life would that be? Besides, I have the strangest feeling." Sherlock said as he shakes his thought away.
He stands up, pointing to the black cab parked nearby as he walks towards it. "That’s ours. You and Lestrade take a ... bus." He said to John.
You frown as John laughs in disbelief, "Why?"
"I need to concentrate, and I don’t want to hit you."
"Then why is she coming with you?" Lestrade asked him.
"Since she's not speaking a word until Mrs. Welsborough pleaded she can come with me."
"No, I'm not coming with you." You said, crossing your arms.
"Yes, yes you are." Sherlock said as he walks toward you. He grabbed your arms and drags you towards the cab. "Get in."
You just sighed and rolls your eyes, "Fine!"
Sherlock gets in and tells the cabbie your destination. "Mall, please."