Lorenzo 'Enzo' Ellis Xavier Holmes, the twenty year old brother of Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes. Since the age of fourteen he has struggled with drug use, turning to it when he lost his best friend since birth. Sherlock and Mycroft take care of him...
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Enzo sits in the back of the cab with John as the older man tries to get hold of Lestrade "No, Detective Inspector Lestrade. I need to speak to him. It's important. It's an emergency!" John tells the man ion the other end of the phone. The taxi soon pulls up to the college, the two of them climbing out after John pays "You go that way, I'll go the other." Enzo says, running off to one of the buildings. John nods and runs to the other, the two of them running in and beginning to search for Sherlock. Enzo runs down a corridor "Sherlock?" he calls out, trying to find his brother. Just then there is a gun shot making him run into the room he hears noise coming from "There you are." he breathes, seeing his brother looking out a window as the cab driver lies on the floor. "What are you doing here?" Sherlock asks. "Tracked the phone." Enzo responds, looking at the cab driver. Sherlock grabs one of the pills he dropped and shows it to the cab driver, Jeff as Enzo reads from the man's ID badge "Was I right? I was, wasn't I? Did I get it right? Okay, tell me this: your sponsor. Who was it? The one who told you about Enzo and I – our 'fan.' I want a name." Sherlock tells him, throwing the pill away. "No." Jeff responds. "You're dying, but there's still time to hurt you. Give me a name." Sherlock says, standing on Jeff's shoulder "A name. Now. The NAME!" Sherlock shouts. "MORIARTY!" Jeff cries out before dying. Enzo frowns as Sherlock takes a step back, mouthing 'Moriaty' to himself. Sherlock looks at Enzo, clearing deducting "No." Enzo tells him, walking out the room. Sherlock follows after him "Enzo." he tries. "No you can reprimand me later if it helps, but I need to leave before Lestrade turns up." Enzo says. "Fine, but I'm talking to you later." Sherlock sighs.
Enzo stands next to John as they wait for Sherlock to finish talking to the police "You going to tell me how you knew which side of the building to go to?" John asks. "Lucky guess?" Enzo smirks. "Liar." John chuckles. Sherlock walks over, taking the shock blanket from round his shoulders and bundling it into the car nearby. Ducking under the police tape, he joins Enzo and John "Um, Sergeant Donovan's just been explaining everything, the two pills. Been a dreadful business, hasn't it? Dreadful." John tells him. Sherlock looks at him for a moment, Enzo smirking slightly "Good shot." Sherlock tells John quietly. "Yes. Yes, must have been, through that window." John responds, trying to look innocent. "Well, you'd know. Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case. Are you all right?" Sherlock asks. "Yes, of course I'm all right." John responds. "Well, you have just killed a man." Enzo points out. "Yes, I ... That's true, innit? But he wasn't a very nice man." John tells them. Sherlock nods in agreement, reassured that John is okay "No. No, he wasn't really, was he?" he asks. "And frankly a bloody awful cabbie." John says. Sherlock chuckles, leading them away "That's true. He was a bad cabbie. Should have seen the route he took us to get here!" he tells his brother and John, all three of them laughing. "Stop! Stop, we can't giggle, it's a crime scene! Stop it!" John tells him.
"You're the one who shot him. Don't blame me." Sherlock tells John. "Keep your voice down!" John tells him, realising that they're walking past Donovan "Sorry – it's just, um, nerves, I think." he tells her. "Sorry." Sherlock adds. John clears his throat as they walk away from Donovan "You were gonna take that damned pill, weren't you?" he asks. Sherlock stops and turns back to him "Course I wasn't. Biding my time. Knew you and Enzo'd turn up." he tells him. "No you didn't. It's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever." John responds. "Why would I do that?" Sherlock asks. "Because you're an idiot." Enzo and John tell him the same time. Sherlock smiles "Dinner?" he asks. "Starving." John responds as they start walking again. "End of Baker Street, there's a good Chinese stays open 'til two. You can always tell a good Chinese by examining the bottom third of the door handle." Sherlock tells him.
