Sophia Holmes and the Great Game (Sherlock's Daughter Fanfic) *Completed*

Chapter One - Carl Powers Part I

"Sherlock, Sophie, hi," Detective Inspector Lestrade says, jogging across the floor to meet us by the doors. He shakes hands with John, obviously momentarily forgetting his name before he turns and leads us across the general office towards his. "You like the funny cases, don't you? The surprising ones."

"Obviously," dad replies.

"You'll love this." I exchange a quick glare at Donovan as we walk past. "That explosion ..."

"Gas leak, yes?" dad confirms.

"No." I tear my eyes away from Donovan at these words.

"No?" I question.

"No. Made to look like one."

"What?" John asks as we step into Lestrade's office.

Dad stops and stares down at an envelope on the desk, addressed to him.

"Hardly anything left of the place except a strongbox – a very strong box and inside it was this." He points to the letter we were looking at.

"You haven't opened it?' dad confirms.

"It's addressed to you, isn't it?" Dad reaches for the envelope, and I peer anxiously over his shoulder. It doesn't look dangerous. "We've X-rayed it," Lestrade says, reading my expression. "It's not booby-trapped."

"How reassuring!" he replies sarcastically, picking up the envelope and taking it across the room to another table with a small desk lamp positioned on top. I follow him over and holds the letter just beneath the light and begins to study it. He glances at me. "What do you think?"

"Feminine handwriting, could be a gay male, but the balance of probability suggests otherwise."

"Good," dad mutters encouragingly. "Go on."

"The envelope isn't from this country, but it's obviously expensive." Dad nods in agreement. "What do you think?" I counter, knowing I've missed a lot.

"Nice stationery. Bohemian," dad says, louder than we were speaking a moment ago, and my eyes widen in realisation. How could I have missed that?

"What?" Lestrade asks.

"From the Czech Republic. No fingerprints?"

"No," he confirms.

Dad looks closely at the writing, trying to identify the pen. We once solved a case by working out the nib used, as it was one of a kind.

"She used a fountain pen," dad states. "A Parker Duofold – iridium nib."

"'She'?" John questions, frowning.

"Obviously," dad replies.

"Obviously!" he repeats sarcastically, struggling not to sigh.

After exhausting the envelope of details, dad picks a letter opener from the desk and slitting it open. I raise my eyebrows in surprise as dad slides out a bright pink iPhone.

"But that's – that's the phone, the pink phone," John says, shocked.

Is it a coincidence they used a vital prop in our first case together because it isn't the first time we've seen a phone in a case?

"What, from the Study in Pink?"

I spin around, noticing Leatrade's slip of the tongue at once, but it glazes over dad's head for a moment.

"Well, obviously it's not the same phone but it's supposed to look like ..." he stops finally realising and turning to face Lestrade, echoing my surprised expression as Donovan steps in, putting down some files on the desk. "The Study in Pink? You read his blog?"