A Christmas in 221B

3. A study in an ashman

Sherlock froze. He didn't even blink or breath.

Could it be...

He was really, really confused. Who was this?

Moriarty? Dead.

Mary? Dead as well.
Both died in front of him by the way.

Eurus?

Could it be her?

But why? She had what she wanted. Sherlock made sure that Mycroft provides her some company with her family every year.

Who...

Sherlock was soon pulled out of his train of thought.

-Sherlock? Sherlock. SHERLOCK!

-I ain't deaf John.

-What is that?

-Dead body, I assume. Don't you think so?
Sherlock said sarcastically.

-And I ain't SUCH an idiot.

-Reassuring.

John just face-palmed and walked away from the disaster, laying in the snow on their kitchen table. Hopefully Mrs.Hudson was out for a few hours.

Sherlock didn't even bother himself to hide that horror, and brutally sat on the couch. He needed to find the answer to all of these questions.

Who killed the man?

Why?

There was a note in the victim's mouth. "DID YOU MISS ME?". That didn't seem a coincidence. It couldn't be anyone but him. Anyone but Sherlock.

Who. Sent. The. Note?!

He didn't notice the quick arrival of the evening. He opened his eyes, and saw nobody.

Just the body, laying in this disgusting water, mixed with old rests of blood.

Mrs.Hudson's coat was in the opened closet . He wondered what was her reaction.

A red balloon with a drawn face was there, tied to a chair, which was standing next to him.

He was going to continue his research in his mind palace, and as soon as he continued to try to find an answer a phone call pulled him out immediately.

Lestrade. Not now. Not while I am busy.

He waited, hoping John wasn't asleep and he would come to give him the phone, or answer instead of him, no matter how annoyed he would be. But after a whole minute, he understood that John was deeply asleep.

He kept on ignoring though.

Apparently, DI Lestrade understood that Sherlock wasn't in the mood of talking on a phone, and/or was busy.

Sherlock decided to get some sleep, and try to continue his researches later.

He woke up the next day, before the sun began to rise.

He quickly checked his memories of yesterday's day, and stood up. It smelled awful in there. The dead corpse had begun to get seriously rotten.

He decided to bring the corpse to Molly, so she'll keep it for a while. He approached the body, and was going to touch it, when he suddenly heard a sleepy familiar voice.