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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Enzo stands next to his brother as they both look at the mirror, which is now covered in ciphers and pictograms. John walks in after slamming the door downstairs "You've been a while." Sherlock remarks, looking at a book. John paces the room, his shoulders rigid and his fists clenched "Yeah, well, you know how it is. Custody sergeants don't really like to be hurried, do they?" he tells him. Enzo winces slightly "Just formalities: fingerprints, charge sheet; and I've gotta be in Magistrates Court on Tuesday." John continues. "What?" Sherlock asks absentmindedly. "Me, Sherlock, in court on Tuesday. They're givin' me an ASBO!" John glares. "Good. Fine." Sherlock says clearly not paying attention. Enzo rolls his eyes at his brother "You wanna tell your little pal he's welcome to go and own up any time." John says. Sherlock slams his book shut "This symbol: I still can't place it." he complains, turning round and putting his book down.
John starts to take off his jacket, Sherlock going over and pulling the jacket back onto his shoulders "No, I need you to go to the police station, ask about the journalist." he tells him, Ezo throwing on his own jacket. "Oh, Jesus!" John says, clearly exasperated. Sherlock grabs his coat from the back of the door "His personal effects will have been impounded. Get hold of his diary, or something that will tell us his movements. Gonna go and see Van Coon's P.A. If we retrace their steps, somewhere they'll coincide." he explains as they head down the stairs and out the door.
Sherlock and Enzo head to the bank, meeting with Van Coon's PA who is looking at an online calendar "Flew back from Dalian Friday. Looks like he had back-to-back meetings with the sales team." Amanda tells them. "Can you print me up a copy?" Sherlock asks. "Sure." Amanda nods. "What about the day he died? Can you tell us where he was?" Enzo asks. "Sorry. Bit of a gap... I have all his receipts." Amanda tells them, getting them out. "What kind of a boss was he, Amanda? Appreciative?" Enzo asks as he and Sherlock start going through the receipts. "Um, no. That's not a word I'd use. The only things Eddie appreciated had a big price tag." Amanda tells them. As the brothers go through the receipts, they spot a bottle of luxury hand lotion "Like that hand cream. He bought that for you, didn't he?" Sherlock says. Amanda looks at him in surprise, playing with her hair pin.
Enzo finds a taxi receipt dated 22 March for £18.50 "Look at this one. Got a taxi from home on the day he died. Eighteen pounds fifty." he says. "That would get him to the office." Amanda tells them. "Not rush hour; check the time. Mid-morning. Eighteen would get him as far as..." Sherlock trails off. "The West End. I remember him saying." Amanda remembers. Sherlock finds an Underground ticket "Underground. Printed at one in Piccadilly." he tells her. "So he got a Tube back to the office. Why would he get a taxi into town and then the Tube back?" Amanda asks. "Because he was delivering something heavy. Didn't want to lug a package up the escalator." Enzo responds, searching the receipts. "Delivering?" Amanda asks in confusion. "To somewhere near Piccadilly Station. Dropped the package, delivered it and then... stopped on his way. He got peckish." Enzo tells her, holding a receipt for Piazza Espresso Bar Italiano.
