The Autobiography of Mycroft Holmes

Chapter 19: Death at a Wedding

Cedars was still missing, and Lestrade had decided not to push back her wedding date any longer. She elected to marry her fiancée on May 15th of that year, with an afternoon wedding and a reception later that night.

As I was the Maid of Honor and Sherlock the Bridesmaid, dress attire was supposed to be given to us. But when Lestrade let us choose our own clothing, I rented a black tuxedo similar to the one that I wore the night of the pre-wedding dinner, and ironically from the same shop.

Sherlock looked perfect as always, standing there in her short burgundy cocktail dress that Lestrade helped her shop for, looking down at my tuxedo with deep disapproval as we waited for Lestrade to arrive at the reception hall.

"For God's sake, Mycroft, could you dress like a normal human for once?" she asked me, the disdain dripping from her voice. Sherlock had finally spoken to me in the first time in about two hours since the ceremony began.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sherlock, am I contaminating the atmosphere of Lestrade's wedding? Just remember a thing that you do seem to forget often: I introduced you to Lestrade in the first place. There is a chain of command which you do seem to forget the existence of."

"You never let me forget, Mycroft. What are you talking about?"

Just as I opened my mouth to respond, Lestrade showed up and we all walked inside together.

Cedars, by that point, had been missing for nearly a month. We had been searching endlessly for him in places that I knew he frequented, and not a trace of him could be found anywhere. Lestrade and I had spent countless hours in her office, making and re-making plans for our advance in the case. Nothing, nothing, and nothing were our results. Chris didn't really like my having to walk out on our dates most nights, but he knew what I did and he knew I worked with Lestrade, so it was all right for the time being.

In fact, the night before the wedding was another one of these sessions where all we did was sit in Lestrade's office, theorizing and thinking. We sent out field officers to help us with some of the more physical aspects of it, but we for the most part sat still in Lestrade's office. The office at the end of the hall on that high-up floor in the headquarters of New Scotland Yard was becoming even more of a second home to me than the Diogenes Club was, and that disrupted my routine drastically.

After a day of bookkeeping, I did not think of the Diogenes Club as my first destination of the night. I knew that at eight o'clock each night, Lestrade would be waiting by the elevator for me to emerge from the doors after the bell dings, carrying a suitcase full of the files from this case that we had now been working on for almost a half a year.

We found that Cedars owned a summer home outside London that he never mentioned in any of his papers.

Naturally Lestrade and I decided that after she returned from her honeymoon after the wedding, we'd go check out the house in person rather than sending a crew.

Sherlock knew that all this was occurring; just because I was talking to Lestrade more often again, this did not mean that she was any less involved with my younger sister. They still ran around solving cases like they had been for almost a year now. And Lestrade told her more than a few things about our case. She always was a bit loose-lipped.

By the time the party began, it was nearly dark. The meal portion of the reception occurred first, and Sherlock and I sat to Lestrade's right at a table in the front of the room.

Throughout this portion, we came across many people looking for pictures with Lestrade and her new husband or videos to film of each and every moment of the party. I had to smile for a straight hour and a half, as did Sherlock, and that was more than we normally smiled in months.

Lestrade, after this time, told us to go away and get drinks. We remained at the bar, me staying completely sober and Sherlock becoming relatively intoxicated for about twenty minutes. We could not return to the room of people just yet. Sherlock went outside to get air, but then promptly ran back inside.

"Mycroft, I need you to come outside with me."

"Why? Is there something there?"

"Yes, I'd say so. It's a dead body!"

"A BODY?!" I asked her in shock.

"Shh! Don't yell it out loud!" she yelled back to me after I made my much louder exclamation.

She ran with me through the long hall and led me outside. At the bottom of the stairs was Cedars, dead with red slashed scattered all over the surface of his body. They were still bleeding and I estimated that the wounds had been made recently, less than an hour ago. I felt a tightening in my stomach and a pain in my chest. My anxiety that I thought I had finally chased away was returning. I grabbed Sherlock's arm and held her there for a second.

"Get Lestrade!"

*Yeah... Sorry for the cliffhanger. See you tomorrow, and thanks for reading! :) *