Aylia Holmes

5. The Sins of Thy Brother

"On what charge!" Elwin retorted angrily, shielding Aylia with her body as Grail moved to step forward.

"For now, murder," he snapped. "And since you, as her husband, can't testify either for or against her, there is no evidence she was not here in time to commit the murder."

"Elwin," Aylia whispered, looking up at him.

He was glaring at Grail with more hate than she had ever seen from him before.

Cupping his cheek, she forced him to look at her as she whispered shakily, "Elwin, it's going to be all right. You can do so much more for me out here than in there with me. Please, don't get yourself arrested too."

"Ayla," he whispered, his voice breaking as he saw her tears.

"Elwin, please," she said through tears. "Let them take me, my love. I will survive." Softer, she added, "I will survive."

Ignoring Grail's presence, he kissed her, holding her close as she clung to him by the lapels of his jacket. Cupping her cheeks, he pressed his forehead to hers, briefly kissing her lips again before moving his lips to each cheek and finally her forehead.

"That's enough, now," Grail said irritably.

As if on impulse, Aylia kissed Elwin's cheek, the cheek farthest from Grail. As she pulled away, she whispered, "Fetch Sherlock."

Then, tears streaming down her cheeks, she detached herself from him and allowed herself to be put in handcuffs.

.

The moment Aylia was dragged away, Elwin grabbed his bag and sprinted for Baker Street. He was thoroughly out of breath by the time he had reached it, but even so, he took the stairs three at a time and instantly began pounding on the door upon reaching it. Only a few seconds after he had begun, the door opened and Elwin found himself facing Sherlock.

"Elwin, what are you-" he began.

"There's no time," Elwin snapped.

Familiar as he was with Elwin's calm and patient temperance, Sherlock did not hesitate to step aside and allow him in. The moment he did so, Elwin was surprised to find Lestrade already there.

"You," he snapped, striding forward.

"Elwin," Sherlock said quickly, blocking him from Lestrade. "Lestrade, you may go."

Lestrade only hesitated a moment before he obeyed, slipping out the door without a word.

The moment Lestrade's footsteps faded out of hearing, Sherlock asked, "Is this about Enola?"

"Only slightly," Elwin replied. "Aylia was just arrested."

"On what charges?" Sherlock asked, striding over to his dining room and flipping open his bulletin board.

Instantly, Enola herself rolled out with a shocked cry.

"My mistake," Sherlock said with the smallest hint of patronization, reaching out his hand to help her up. "I should have warned you I was opening it."

"No," she retorted, swatting away his hand and getting up on her own.

Looking between Elwin and Enola, he said, "Dare I ask?"

"Sherlock, Aylia asked me to come to you," Elwin retorted. "She needs your help."

"What happened after I ran?" Enola asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Grail arrested Aylia for Mae's murder, that's what happened," Elwin said snappishly.

"Elwin, sit," Sherlock ordered before turning back to Enola. "Tell me everything as emotionlessly as possible."

"A government case?" Enola said in confusion as Elwin turned into the main living area and began pacing.

"No," Sherlock said irritably.

"You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine," Enola said in an uncharacteristically deep voice Elwin had only to assume was an imitation of Lestrade.

"He's a ninny," Sherlock replied. "I needed to know what he had on you." When Enola still said nothing, Sherlock finally said, "Money. Unaccounted transfers going in and out of government offices. My theory is either bribery, extortion, or blackmail."

Elwin rubbed at his jaw nervously as he waited for Sherlock and Enola to get to the point. It was taking all of his patience to say nothing, but his pacing had increased in speed.

"Seperate fillings from five different accounts going via the Treasury into one private bank," he explained.

"So someone is getting rich from this?"

"Yes," Sherlock replied.

"Who?" Enola asked.

"No name," Sherlock explained. "Just a number. I visited the bank and inquired. The money disappeared, arriving at another bank, and then another, and another, and another, and another, and another. Every one of them hidden using different account numbers, twenty-seven in total."

"Well, what can you deduce from that?" Enola asked.

"Three things," Sherlock replied. "Firstly, the man's a game player, perhaps a genius in mathematics, capable of covering his traces at every turn. Secondly, the sources are varied. Five banks, south of the river, but no clear link between them, all anonymous, all going into one pocket."

"And the third?" Enola asked when he said no more.

"He knows I'm onto him," Sherlock finished. "Every time I pull a thread, it lossens, vanishes, and reappears somewhere else. He's leading me a merry dance. It's infuriating."

"No leads at all?" Enola said in surprise.

"One," Sherlock replied. "One week ago, there was a break-in at the Treasury by a man in a taper crown hat."

"A taper crown hat," Enola repeated. "What was taken?"

"A document," Sherlock replied. "They won't talk about it. Sensitive information presumably, but how it connects to all of this has so far eluded me."

"That's great, Sherlock," Elwin retorted, coming to a stop in his pacing where the two rooms conjoined. "I'm sure we all care so much right now."

Sherlock sighed, letting go of the irritation he felt as he remembered what exactly must be going through Elwin's head at that moment.

Turning to Enola, he said, "Your turn. I hope that blood's not yours."