Chapter 8 The Missing Puzzle Piece

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Evanna's POV

We all listened to Sherlock's story intently, Mrs Hudson gasping at moments as if it was a pantomime show. The things he said were shocking news, but as they were essential to solving the case I absorbed them regardless of my emotional situation.

"And you solved this all by yourself?" asked John.

"Of course" replied Sherlock, not quite meeting anyone's eye.

I raised an eyebrow. As if...that man's ego...

"Well you know what we have to do then" I said.

"I'll call a cab..." sighed John as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Two hours later we were back in my village. Correction: what used to be my village. And what used to be my home. I guessed this realization was why walking into my mother's room didn't hit me like a bullet train anymore. My eyes searched the room again, everything the exact same as our last visit -excluding the absence of the dead woman on the bed. Obviously.

"The roses" said Sherlock, so quietly it was almost a whisper, and nodded towards the vase of now wilted crimson flowers on the only windowsill.

I nodded back, then sat down on the bed. "I don't think she was stupid you know" I said suddenly. The shock of saying my true thoughts rippled through me.

"I know" replied Sherlock, even though it wasn't a question. "And I agree"

I looked up at him, searching his face to determine the level of truth in the words he just said. 

"Lots of things can change people. The can make them act like something they're not, make them go down a different path, or even make them hide who they truly are," he told me. "And that's what your mother did. She didn't want to attract attention, and didn't want to fight against her-" he paused "-Our parents so she didn't show her true potential"

Suddenly Sherlock looked up as if he had heard someone calling him. He'd had an idea.

Sherlock's POV 

People call a moment of genius a 'Eureka' moment. Relative to me however, this is absurd. The genius in constantly in my brain, and the idea or, if you must put it this way, 'Eureka' moment is simply like adding the missing puzzle piece. It's like putting an extra log onto an already burning fire. It is not a moment of genius, it is an enhancement of genius.

"Of course!" I cried, Evanna standing up as soon as the words had left my mouth. "The use of the roses wasn't just symbolic as being The Crimson Queen. What if that part was a coincidence? A simple use of what was already there? After all once she realized she was dying she couldn't get hold of roses that don't grow in Kent in anywhere near enough time. Therefore they had to have been here before the poison was in her body. Which meant they were significant to the murder because why else would they have been there? To message the people who find her that the roses were the murder weapon!"

Evanna gaped at me in awe.

Then we were interrupted by a loud thump.

We whipped round.

John was writhing on the floor near the window.

The Crimson Queen (A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora