Sherlock - The Game Is On!

The Six Thatchers- Five

Chapter Five

Welsborough House - Afternoon

"Charlie's family are pretty cut up about it, as you'd expect, so go easy on them, yeah?"

"Gregory, you know what my darling is like." I laugh out lightly. "Yeah, don't I know it." Lestrade grumbles on unhappily. "Hey, hello!"

"Got 'em, don't worry. Pampers; The cream you can't get from Boots."

"Yeah, never mind about that. Where are you now? At the dead boy's house?"

"Yeah."

"And what does he think? Any theories?"

"Uh, well, I texted you the details." John begins to prop his phone up, showing Mary on FaceTime. "Yeah, two different types of vinyl." Sherlock snatches the phone. "Hey!"

"How do you know about that?"

"Oh, you'd be amazed at what a receptionist picks up." She leans closer to the phone and whispers loudly and dramatically. "They know everything!"

"Solved it, then?"

"I'm working on it."

"I've solved it!" I chime happily. "Oh, Mary, motherhood's slowing you down."

"Pig!"

"Keep trying." He hands the phone to John and swings his arm around my shoulder, placing a chaste kiss to my temple. "So, what about it, then? What, an empty car that suddenly has a week old corpse in it? And what are you gonna call this one?" Mary questions while Sherlock glances to the front porch. "Ooh, the... Uh, The Ghost Driver."

"Don't give it a title."

"People like the titles." I mentioned, John hums in agreement. "I hate the titles."

"Give the people what they want."

"No, never do that. People are stupid."

"Uh, some people, Sherlock... Unless you're planning to be sleeping on the sofa." Mary chimes, mysteriously. Sherlock leans over to look into the camera. "All people are stupid..." He glances between Mary and I. "Most people." He corrects whilst winking at her.

"Bizarre enough, though, isn't it, to be him? I mean, it's right up your strasse." Sherlock throws him a look whilst I head towards the nearby closed door. A man opens it and leads the us. "Mr and Mrs Welsborough. I really am most terribly sorry to hear about your daughter."

"Son." I murmur. "Son." He corrects. "Mr and Mrs Welsborough, this is Mr Sherlock Holmes and his fiancée Lady Michelle Phillips." Lestrade introduces. "Thank you very much for coming. We've heard a great deal about you both. If anyone can throw any light into this darkness, surely it will be you." Mrs Welsborough gestures between us.

"Well, I believe that we... Can." Sherlock pauses looking towards the window. "But Charlie was our whole world, Mr Holmes. I..." Sherlock is now totally focussed on a small round table in front of the window.

At the back of the table is a framed large white card on a stand; the card is an invitation to David to attend a reception at 10 Downing Street, sent by Margaret Thatcher when she was Prime Minister. In front of it to the left is a framed official photograph of Thatcher and to the right is a framed photo of her and David. In front of the solo Thatcher photo is a small commemorative plate with a painting of her, and in front of the other picture is the small painted figurine that we saw earlier.

I focus deathly on the space between the plate and the figurine and sees that the leather cover of the table is scuffed. "Sherlock?" The Welsboroughs look towards the window, then turn back to Sherlock and I. "Mr Holmes?" Sherlock gasps in a small breath and turns to them. "Sorry. You were saying?" I pardon. "Well, Charlie was our whole world, Mr Holmes. I... I don't think we'll ever get over this."