Cecilia Holmes, Daughter of Minerva (Sherlock/Percy Jackson crossover)

Chapter 14

It was nearly completely dark by the time the train made it to Mackleton. Another teacher from the Priory was there to pick us up, and he drove us out to the school, which was another twenty minutes. Finally, we made it to the scene of the crime. It was a large estate, but small for a school. It could house probably two hundred kids and a dozen or so teachers. Immediately I spied the side of the house where Arthur's room must be, for it was covered in thick ivy and there was a shed not too far away. We walked up onto the porch, but before we entered, another older professor walked out.

"Doctor Saltire and his secretary are here," he said, urgently. "And he wishes to speak with you, Huxtable."

"Yes, of course," Doctor Huxtable said, and I could feel the tension heighten. He gestured for us to follow him.

We entered the warm house and sitting in the lobby just inside was a man. He stood and my mouth almost dropped open. He was tall, almost half a head taller than Sherlock, and had broad shoulders, making him look more like a lumberjack than a doctor. His dark red hair and a beard finishing the look. Beside him stood a younger man, a teenager more like, who was just as tall but not as broad. He had short auburn hair and blue eyes. I assumed that this was Doctor Saltire and his assistant, who's name I couldn't remember. Jonathan? Jeremiah?

Doctor Saltire's intense, blue eyes glared first at Doctor Huxtable and then at Sherlock and me. He looked like he was going to explode, but his secretary spoke first.

"I called your cellphone this morning, Doctor Huxtable, but you never picked up," he said, in an obviously American accent.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. My cellphone died during the trip to London."

"And that's precisely why I was calling you," the secretary said, coldly. "I was hoping to prevent you from going there. Doctor Saltire is surprised that you would invite Mr. Sherlock Holmes to undertake this case without consulting him first."

"Well, I knew the police weren't getting anywhere and I can't help but fear for poor Arthur."

"Who said the police weren't getting anywhere?" the young man snapped. He quickly composed himself. "You know, Doctor Huxtable, that Doctor Saltire is anxious to avoid public scandal and wants as few people as possible to know of his circumstances," the secretary said, and I couldn't help but notice the edge of sarcastic bitterness in his voice.

"And so," he continued, his gaze turned on Sherlock. "We politely request that you, sir, return to London on the next train."

I looked at Sherlock. Surely we wouldn't actually go back?

"I'm sorry," he responded, calmly. "But I find this northern air..." he took a deep breath. "Invigorating. I think I'll stay for a few days and explore the country. Whether I... er," he glanced at me. "We, are welcome here at the Priory or at the Mackleton hotel is the only decision you have to make."

The silence that followed was thick.

"I agree with Mr. Wilder, Doctor Huxtable," Doctor Saltire said in a booming voice. "You should've consulted me first before bringing this... consulting detective into our business. But, since he has probably heard all about the situation by now, we may as well put his powers to use. I would be honored if you and your daughter would come and stay with me at Holdernesse Manor, Mr. Holmes."

"Thanks for the offer, Doctor," Sherlock said. "But, for the purpose of my investigation, I think we will stay here."

I couldn't help but notice how he didn't refute Doctor Saltire for saying I was his daughter.

"Very well. But if there is any information which I or Mr. Wilder can give you, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, sir. I may pop in sometime at Holdernesse. But, before you go, I do have a question or two."

"Ask away. Anything to save my son," he said, and for the first time there was sincerity in the big man's voice.

"Do you have any idea where Arthur might be or who might've taken him?" Sherlock asked, studying him.

"No," was the simple reply.

"And..." Sherlock hesitated. "I am sorry if I allude to that which is painful for you to remember, but I wouldn't do so if it wasn't necessary. Do you think that Arthur's mother had anything to do with this?"

The Doctor looked thoroughly surprised.

"I... I..." he paused, "I do not believe that is possible, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock nodded.

"It is most likely then that he is being held for ransom. Have you received any demands?"

Doctor Saltire shook his head no.

"One last question, and then I will be satisfied," Sherlock said, walking up to the burly man. "You visited your son the day before he disappeared, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did."

"Did he say or do anything that might be suspicious? Or did you say anything that might've upset him?"

"No," the Doctor said, shaking his head.

"And you?" Sherlock said, looking to Mr. Wilder. He appeared surprised.

"Me?" he stuttered. "No. He seemed perfectly happy."

"I see," Sherlock said with a nod. "That'll be all, gentlemen. Thank you. I will do my best to find your son, Doctor Saltire."

"Thank you," Doctor Saltire said, before turning and exiting the lobby, Mr. Wilder right behind him.

"I'm sure you will find him, Mr. Holmes," Huxtable said. "But for now, let me show you to your rooms."

"Before we do that, Mr. Huxtable," Sherlock said. "May I see Arthur's room?"

"Of course."

"And Heidegger's?"

"Yes," Doctor Huxtable said. "Follow me."