Sherlock - The Game Is On!

The Abominable Bride- Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Third POV

Sherlock's vision clears. Mary and Michelle sit a short distance away and peer to him whilst clasping hands onto each other whilst John leans over him and shines a penlight into his right eye. Mycroft sits at Sherlock's bedside. They're no longer in the plane and Sherlock is lying fully clothed on a bed, in a hospital. "And there he is. Thought we'd lost you for a moment. May I just check: is this what you mean by 'controlled usage'?"

"Mrs Emelia Ricoletti. I need to know where she was buried." Sherlock demands. "What, a hundred and twenty years ago?!" Sherlock struggles to sit up whilst John tries push him back down. "Yes."

"That would take weeks to find, if those records even exist. Even with my resources..."

"Got it." Mary gestures to her phone.

Some time later, John and Mary get out of a police car and follow Sherlock, who has just taken a spade from the boot of another police car, with Michelle standing near by. He leads them into a cemetery. Mycroft and Lestrade follow them and there are several uniformed police officers in attendance. "I don't get it. How is this relevant?" John asks. "I need to know I was right, then I'll be sure."

"You mean how Moriarty did it?" Michelle questions, quite rightly so, afraid for her fiancées health. "Yes."

"But none of that really happened. It was in your head." John stated. "My investigation was the fantasy. The crime happened exactly as I explained."

"The stone was erected by a group of her friends." Mary gestured. "I don't know what you think you'll find here." Mycroft snidely remarks. "I need to try!" He snaps at his brother. They walk past the rear of the gravestone they're looking for. On the front is carved:

EMELIA RICOLETTI
BELOVED SISTER
FAITHFUL BEYOND DEATH
DIED DECEMBER 18 1894
AGED 26

Sherlock stands beside Emelia's grave holding the spade. The others are standing on the path at the foot of the grave and some of the police officers are nearby, one of them also holding a spade. "Mrs Ricoletti was buried here, but what happened to the other one, the corpse they substituted for her after the so called suicide?"

"They'd move it. Of course they would."

"But where?" Sherlock questions John. "Well, not here!"

"But that... That's exactly what they must have done. The conspirators had someone on the inside. They found a body, just like Molly Hooper found a body for me when I..." John and Michelle cast a dark look whilst Mary raises her eyes to the heavens. Sherlock stops abruptly. "Yeah, well, we don't need to go into all that again, do we?" He shifts his grip on the spade, ready to start digging. "You're not seriously gonna do this? Are you?" Michelle questions, dubiously. "It's why we came here! I need to know." He bends forward to the grave. "Spoken like an addict." John murmurs. "This is important to me!"

"No, this is you needing a fix." John looks back to him. "John..."

"Moriarty's back. We have a case! We have a real-life problem right now."

"Getting to that! It's next on the list! Just let me do this." Again he bends to the grave. John blows out a dangerous breath: "No, everyone always lets you do whatever you want. That's how you got in this state."

"John, please..."

"I'm not playing this time, Sherlock, not any more." He steps back, flexing his left hand, then speaks more calmly: "When you're ready to go to work, give me a call." He takes Mary's arm. "I'm taking Mary home."

"You're what?"

"Mary's taking me home." He corrects. "Better." Michelle smiles lightly as they turn to walk away. Mycroft walks forward to Sherlock and Michelle. "He's right, you know."

"So what if he's right? He's always right. It's boring." He pauses, looking down, for a moment. "Will you help me?" He whispers, looking across to Greg then Mycroft and lastly Michelle. The trio exchange unsure glances. Michelle takes her coat of hastily, throwing it over the grave stone angrily, before snatching the shovel of an officer. "Cherchez la femme." Mycroft murmurs. Sherlock and Michelle raises their spades and plunge into the earth.

Hours later, portable lights have been set up to illuminate the area. Sherlock, down to just shirt and trousers and Michelle, down to just her vest and trousers; Dog tags twinkling from the light; With hair tied up, almost neck deep in the grave, shovel tons of earth. Next to them Greg, also in shirtsleeves, is also digging. Both of the men wear thick gloves.

Mycroft stands next to the grave, shining a flashlight down into the hole. Sherlock, Greg and Michelle shovel out a few more loads and then, when Sherlock plunges the spade down again, it's met with a hollow thump. He slowly straightens up, realising that they have reached the coffin. Sherlock grimaces slightly, "Bunch of pussies." Michelle murmurs coldly before bending down and starts to hand shovel more earth out.

Greg groans in pain as he and Sherlock, now out of the grave, bend down to lower the coffin to the ground at its foot. Michelle pulls herself up, standing up back on 'normal' ground level. Greg uses a crowbar to lever up one end of the coffin lid and then hands it to Sherlock to lever up the other end. Michelle walks over to Mycroft, who hands her a towel to clean herself with.

They then lift off the lid and set it down beside the coffin, inside which, illuminated by Mycroft's torch and now, Michelle's flashlight, is a very rotted almost skeletal corpse with worms wriggling in the eye sockets of the skull. Surrounding the corpse are the rotted remains of a wedding dress. Greg stays back and Sherlock, leaning over the coffin, puts the back of his hand to his nose and mouth, appalled by the smell. "Urgh!"

Mycroft and Michelle direct their lights into the coffin. Kneeling down beside the coffin and breathing heavily, Sherlock starts to rummage around and under the corpse, searching for a second body. "Oh dear. The cupboard is bare." Mycroft sarcasm shines through. Sherlock rises up on his knees and stares into the grave. "They must have buried it underneath. They must have buried it underneath the coffin."

Standing up and leaping over the coffin, he jumps down into the grave and starts grabbing handfuls of earth, tossing them over the side of the hole. The other three walk to the edge of the grave and look down at him, then straighten up and exchange another look. Greg and Michelle share a sigh and they look down into the grave again as Sherlock pants heavily while he continues throwing out handfuls of earth. "Bad luck, Sherlock." Lestrade spoke.

Sherlock continues frantically scrabbling in the grave. "Maybe they got rid of the body in another way."

"More than likely. At any rate, it was a very long time ago. We do have slightly more pressing matters to hand, little brother. Moriarty, back from the dead?" Sherlock is still frenetically pawing handfuls of earth together, but stops when a harsh female voice begins to whisper: "Do not forget me."

He raises his head and turns. Up above, Greg, Mycroft and Michelle turn and look towards the coffin, clearly hearing the voice as well. "Do not forget me." Mycroft shines his torchlight into the coffin. Greg's jaw drops and Michelle stares in disbelief as the corpse's skeletal right hand begins to lift from where it was resting on the body's chest. The arm slowly straightens out.

As Sherlock frowns at the sound of creaking bones, the coffin seems to shake and the corpse's head begins to lift up. A woman's furious scream can be heard and Sherlock's eyes widen as the skeleton plunges into the grave on top of him. It flattens him to the floor...