Chapter Text
Sherlock stepped out of the cab and walks quickly to the latest crime scene. He rolled his eyes at Donovan’s glare and continued inside the small apartment. He notices a picture on the way in, a man and a woman standing over a small child. The man has dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes, the woman; his wife presumably, has strawberry blonde colored hair and brown eyes. The boy they are holding seems to be around the age of three or four and has bright-white blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Sherlock notices only the one picture however, placed right by the front door.
As he continues through the apartment he sees that it lacks other personal touches as well. The furniture is sparse and there is absolutely no clutter. Either hasn’t been living here long or it is a temporary residence Sherlock concludes. Sherlock follows the sound of Lestrades voice and finds himself in the small bedroom. The body of a woman is lying over the bed.
“There you are Sherlock.” Lestrade calls to him.
Sherlock ignores his brother-in-law and walks directly to the body. The woman is the one from the picture clearly but her face seems much more drawn and tired. She has bags under her eyes and she looks much thinner than the photograph. Strawberry blonde is not her natural hair color he notes up close. Her roots had started to show and she had neglected to fix it. Her natural hair color seemed to be a dark brown color, which when taking in her facial features and complexion seemed to fit better, probably of Spanish origin. There is massive bruising around her crushed windpipe indicating a man with extremely large hands.
“We are trying to locate the husband now if you want to talk to him.” Lestrade said by his side.
“Pointless, he didn’t do it.” Sherlock replies.
“How do you know?”
“Look at the photograph in the entryway, the man, clearly her husband, has much smaller hands. Whoever strangled her did it with one hand, one large hand. It would have taken a lot of muscle, her husband simply wouldn’t have had the strength to do this one handed.”
“He still might know something.”
“Doubtful, they had been separated for quite some time.” Sherlock continues to examine the body.
“Explain Sherlock.”
“Take a look around! Not a lot of personal touches, nothing indicating anyone lives here with her. There is a kid in the photo but nothing indicating the child lives here. So they separated a while ago. She was still hoping to make it work however.” Sherlock asserted. Lestrade grunted and turned away to listen to one of his officers briefly.
“Well apparently he can’t be found anyway. His sister filed a missing persons report for him and her nephew about a month ago.” Lestrade said when he turned back.
Sherlock thinks on this new information. Looking back over the body. The kill looked like a professional job in everything but the strangling. That bit was personal. Why was the husband and son missing? Clearly the woman still loved them. Sherlock looked around and spotted a laptop on a nearby table waiting to be catalogued. He promptly walked over to it and opened it up.
“Sherlock its password encrypted you’ll have to wait until we get our experts onto it.” Lestrade warned. Sherlock just rolled his eyes and thought for a moment.
“What are the husband and the son’s names?” He asked finally. He waits while Lestrade looks over the file that someone passed him.
“John and Hamish.” Lestrade finally responds. Sherlock immediately types ‘JohnHamish’ into the computer and after a moment the screen unlocks. Sentiment Sherlock thinks. As soon as it does Sherlock’s hands fly across the keyboard uncovering a number of further encrypted files. It takes him a few minutes; it has been a while since he has needed to hack into private files. The last time he did it was Mycroft’s and what he had found had scarred him immensely. Honeymoon plans for Lestrade and his brother was not something he ever needed to know. Sherlock mentally shuddered. Why his brother had needed to encrypt those plans was beyond him but it had taught him to never touch Mycroft’s files without need again.
He smiled in success as the files began to unlock. His eyes scanned the screen taking in the information. Ah, so the woman had been a hired killer as well. Interesting, that was unexpected, although it did explain the need for a professional hit to take her out. The files continued to unlock one by one. Most of them were inconsequential to the case at hand; of course Mycroft would value the information greatly, the woman had quite a kill list. A video popped up and Sherlock paused for a moment before pressing play.
The video showed a blonde man, her husband, pacing a cell. The man had clearly been beaten, his face black and blue. He had a limp as well. The camera shifted suddenly and showed the boy sitting in a similar cell. The boy looked unharmed for the most part, just extremely scared. Things finally clicked into place. Sherlock turned to find Lestrade only to find him looking over his shoulder.
“Is that her son?” he asks.
“Yes, and the man that was shown before was her husband.”
“Sherlock I don’t understand, explain.” Lestrade pleaded.
“You know you really should get that printed on a shirt” Sherlock quipped before diving into the explanation. “This is obviously a hit, the strangling is a little unorthodox but it is a hit nonetheless. The strangling indicates a personal vendetta against her for some reason. Now it’s who she is that is more interesting. She is a hired killer herself. I should tell you right now that I know from the files on this computer that my brother is probably going to take this case from you by the end of the day. Now why the video of the husband and child? Well clearly they were being held hostage to make her do as she was ordered. My guess is she used to be a very active assassin and then retired and started a family. They probably had no idea of her past, unfortunate for them really. Anyway, it seems an old friend seems to have contacted her about two months ago. She refused at first but then they took her family in order to get their way. The son and the husband are still alive, but for how long I am not sure. Why keep around hostages when you have killed the person you are using them against. At this point I am not sure if much can be done for them. Whoever killed her, whether her own people or an opposing organization, won’t gain much by releasing the hostages. My guess is you will eventually find their bodies.” Sherlock finishes.
“Damn.” Lestrade curses. His jaw clenches as he watches the little boy huddled on the cot crying.
“Indeed.” Sherlock responds as he stands and moves to leave.
“Wait, there are two more cases at the yard that you should look at as well. Same sort of deaths as this one, a quick kill to a person who has little to no family and can’t be traced very easily. Would you mind looking over the files to see if they connect?” Lestrade pleads. Sherlock just nods briefly before leaving. Lestrade was very lucky that he was bored elsewise Sherlock would have just ignored him and left.
As Sherlock leaves the depressing apartment two men in suits pass him. Hm, bit early for Mycroft, Lestrade probably texted him. Sherlock rolled his eyes, Lestrade will do anything to avoid paperwork.
Sherlock arrived at the Yard a short time later. He has barely walked into the building when a young officer hands him a few files. Apparently Lestrade sent word ahead. Good, he could just look them over briefly here and then leave. He motions for the officer to stay while he flips open the first file.
It’s fairly straightforward, similar positioning as the woman he saw earlier. The photographs of the scene show another small-undecorated apartment. This victim had been shot through the temple. The police seemed to think that it had been a suicide but without the gun they can’t confirm that theory. They never will Sherlock thinks. This clearly was another hit. No way for the man to have shot himself at that angle, he would have had to be right-handed, and the man was clearly left-handed. Sherlock unceremoniously handed that case file back to the waiting officer and simply nodded an affirmative that it was connected before opening the second file.
The door to the building opened and Sherlock turned to move out of the way. He looked over briefly expecting to see an officer coming in. Instead there seemed to be no one there. With a shrug Sherlock turns his glance back to the folder when he hears it. Someone is crying, well sobbing rather. Sherlock frowns and puts down the folder completely.
Below him is a tiny figure with white blonde hair. The little boy is sobbing harder than ever and doesn’t appear to know what to do. The police officer next to Sherlock moves to soothe the boy. The boy just backs away and sobs harder.
Hamish, Sherlock’s brain supplies. He shoves the file he is holding to the officer and squats down to the boys level.
“Hamish, that is your name right?” Sherlock speaks quietly. The little boy focuses on him with his frightened eyes. Sherlock decides to use his deductive powers to try to put the boy at ease. “My name is Sherlock Holmes. I am a detective who works with the police officers. Your father is named John and you miss him terribly. Your favorite color is green and you love elephants. You haven’t slept in a day and you are very hungry but you are being extremely brave in spite of it all. ”
At this the little boy stopped trembling and began to walk towards Sherlock. Before he knew it the little boy had wrapped his arms around his neck and was sobbing into his coat. Sherlock scooped the boy up slightly bewildered and looked at the officer who looked equally astonished. Sherlock patted the boys back unsure of exactly what he should do with the crying child now that he had gained his trust.
Hungry, the boy was hungry. With a small sigh Sherlock turned and walked towards the vending machines that were in the side hallway leaving the dumbfounded police officer in his wake. He took out his phone and texted Lestrade on his way.
Hamish found. Come to Scotland Yard now. –SH
He put his phone back it his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Gently patting the boys shoulder to get his attention.
“Hamish would you like to pick out a snack?” he asks softly. He waits for a minute until the little boy picks his head up. He is still crying slightly but his exhaustion has seemed to set in. Sherlock waits while Hamish looks over the snacks.
“How about some pretzels? Or would you rather have those chocolate biscuits?” Sherlock suggests. Hamish points to the biscuits after a moment and then looks at Sherlock. “Those are my favorite too.” Sherlock chuckles. Hamish smiles for the briefest of seconds at this.
Chocolate biscuits and a bottle of water in hand Sherlock makes his way to Lestrade’s office. He rolls his eyes as every officer stops and stares at him on his way. He closes the door firmly behind him to discourage any more staring and then settles down in a chair with Hamish. He waits for Lestrade watching Hamish eat his biscuits slowly. Sherlock finds himself pitying the small boy. His mother is dead and his father is missing and in all likelihoods also dead. Hamish looks so small and fragile, nothing at all like the happy boy in the photograph that Sherlock had seen. Hamish offers him a biscuit, which Sherlock takes and chews on thoughtfully.
Hamish is just finishing off his snack when Lestrade finally bursts in. At this Hamish immediately moves closer to Sherlock, his little hands with a death grip on Sherlock’s coat.
“How Sherlock?” Lestrade stammers.
“I was standing just inside the door and he walked in. I recognized him from the photograph and put two and two together. Hamish meet Detective Inspector Lestrade.” Sherlock explains. He looks at Hamish who looks a little less frightened at Lestrade but still has yet to release his grip on Sherlock.
“Hello Hamish.” Lestrade says gently to the boy. At this Hamish just moves even closer to Sherlock. Lestrade looks back to Sherlock. “Well child services are on their way. If you want to hand him off to Marian she will look after him until they arrive.” Lestrade motions for a woman to come in.
Marian looks nice enough. She has three kids of her own at home and two dogs; She is a kind-hearted woman and loves to bake, Sherlock notes. She walks slowly towards Hamish.
“Hi Hamish, My name is Marian. I am going to watch you for a while ok?” She reaches for the child slowly.
Sherlock grimaces slightly has Hamish throws himself back against him, his little hands moving to grip tightly around Sherlock’s neck. Hamish desperately hides his face into Sherlock’s coat and begins to sob loudly again. The woman recoils backwards with an alarmed face. Lestrade likewise doesn’t seem to know what to do. The woman waits a few more minutes before deciding to flee.
When the child service agent arrives Hamish continues to sob and clutch at Sherlock refusing to be moved. Lestrade looks helpless and confused. The child service agent looks frustrated and concerned. Sherlock can only look down at Hamish in curiosity. How can any one human being, especially one so small, produce this much tears? He wonders.
Hamish is still crying hysterically when Mycroft finally shows up. Mycroft dismisses the agent with a few whispered words and then closes the door firmly.
“Mycroft?” Lestrade questions from his desk.
“It is clear that the boy will not be parted with Sherlock, for whatever reason, so therefore the solution is quite simple Gregory.”
“You can’t be serious!” Lestrade says in horror. “How is that legal?”
“You of all people should know how serious I am.” Mycroft says with a warm glint in his eye. “Since this case is officially turned over to me I have awarded myself temporary custody of the child.” Sherlock snorts at this. Poor child.
“But Myc really?”
“I’m not certain it is a good idea either but the child does seem to be comfortable with him. Until he calms down and relaxes around others it seems we have no choice.”
“You know I am right here.” Sherlock sneers at his brother.
“Indeed you are. And I place under your care one Hamish Harry Watson until further notice.” Mycroft finishes with a smirk.