His Favorite Melody

Close To Home

Melody pulled out her phone and immediately dialed her mother as Sherlock hailed a cab.

"Hello, dear!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed.

"Hi, mum! I need you to grab the keys to the basement flat and be ready to go downstairs as soon as we get home, alright? Just don't go down before we get there." Melody said as they got into the cab.

"Alright, dear. Is everything alright?"

"I don't know quite yet. I hope so." She said quietly. "Just be safe. We'll be there soon. Love you, mum."

"Right. Be careful, the lot of you. I love you, too, darling."

Melody ended the call and looked up at Sherlock as he encased her hand in his own. They sat in silence while Greg gave John a look of mute shock. John simply shrugged and smiled.

A few minutes later, the cab screeched to a halt outside of the Baker Street flat, and Sherlock almost flung himself out of it. Behind him followed Melody, John, and Lestrade. But he head not for the front door but down the steps to the basement level.

"I'll get mum. You boys go with him and we'll meet you down there." She assured them.

She opened the door to find her mother standing with the keys in her hands. "Hello, dear! Are you all ready to go downstairs?"

"The boys are already waiting downstairs for us." Melody confirmed.

The mother and daughter traipsed downstairs to see the three men standing in front of a neglected door. On the wall next to it was a grimy intercom system. Almost hidden by grime was lettering that read 221C.
Mrs. Hudson  began sorting through the bunch of keys on the ring. "He had a look, didn’t you, Sherlock, when you first came to see about the flat? I can’t get anyone interested in it. The damp I expect. It’s the curse of basements."

Sherlock had his face pressed to the door as Mrs. Hudson continued rambling.

"I had a place once, when I was first married, black mould all up the walls, it was like a weight on your chest. We moved out as soon as we found out I was pregnant with Melody here."

"Door’s been opened. Recently." Sherlock finally interrupted.

"No. Can’t have been. This is the only key."

Sherlock took the key off her, inserted it into the lock, then pushed the door slowly open to reveal a bare room. Pale daylight spilled through dusty net curtains, illuminating the evenly dust covered room. In the centre of the room sat a pair of battered, faded trainers.

"Shoes?" John questioned as rhey entered the room.

"Stay here, mum. We'll be right back." Melody said, gently shutting the door.

She turned to examine the rest of the room, watching Sherlock get down onto the bare floorboards to stare at the shoes.
Suddenly -- the Pink phone started ringing in Sherlock’s hand. Melody jumped at how loud it seemed in the otherwise quiet room

He stood, answering it and putting it on speaker so the others could hear. "Hello?"

The response from the other end of the phone was a terrible whimpering and some sniffling. It was a woman crying. As she spoke, her voice was shaky and wracked with sobs. "Hello, sexy."

"Who is this?" Sherlock demanded.

"I’ve sent you...a little puzzle...just to say...hi." the boice responded between sobs.

They all exchanged glances. What was going on?? There was such a weird disconnect between the voice and the words.

"Who’s talking? Why are you crying?" Melody asked.