The Game Is On

Prologue

The streets of London were bustling with people, most of which were holding umbrellas or running between cover. All of them totally oblivious to the grey clouds that hung over one specific flat by Regents Park. 221B Baker Street.
A group of people stood in the flat, decked out in all black and tears falling from several eyes. The group consisted of the Holmes', Watsons and Lestrades.
Except this time around they were missing the most important person to all of them. Sherlock Holmes. The old resident of the messy and dark flat in central London. The group sat and stood around the living room, drinking their tea rather awkwardly as they listened in on a shouting match between three other important residents of the flat.
Joseph, Boo and Martha Holmes. The three musketeers their dad used to call them. They would do anything and everything for one another but this day had split them into the 3 ways.
They had disagreed upon a lot within recent years, but within recent days they had disagreed upon something hugely important. Their fathers death.
Joseph was for once being the reasonable one and trying to make both females see it from the others perspectives and not wanting to get too involved in this whole mess. Whilst Martha was adamant that her fathers death was due to his age and health within the years just passed. However, Boo, the eldest overall even if it was by a few minutes, was certain that her father had been killed and murdered. Her reasoning behind this was quite clear. Sherlock Holmes had no pre-existing medical conditions, he ate well and did not touch a single drug after their mother had died. Despite being quite old at his time of passing, he was nowhere near the age bracket for death by old age. Therefore, and she drew the line under it and would not hear other people out on this one, he was killed. He did not kill himself, if he had, he would have definitely left a note, you will often catch Boo saying out-loud.
"Just like mum had! She left the video!" Boo exclaims to her younger sister, whilst their brother stood between them.
"Boo just calm down please. This is the day of dads funeral. Please just respect that" Joseph says placing his hands on his sisters shoulders and bending down slightly to look in her eyes. Not that he needed to much as they both took after their father in terms of height. Whereas Martha looked exactly like their mother which frustrated Boo since she found it unfair due to Martha never knowing her mother.
"I did respect that until little bratty Martha decided to bring up how 'old and frail' dad was when we got back here!! And that no wonder he passed on due to the 'limited light'. I tell you what I'll show you limited light you little f..." Boo trails off as the door opens to reveal her Uncle.
"You children need to stop fighting this instant. You are arguing in the room where your father drew his last breath. Stop. Think about what you are doing and regather yourselves otherwise you will not be finding out what he left in his will for any of you and I'll be sending all three of you to military school. Got it?" John Watson speaks sternly, despite approaching old age, he still had the same harshness he used on the kids when they were younger and naughtier.
"Sorry Uncle John. It won't happen again with everybody around. I promise" Martha states walking out the room and kissing her uncles cheek.
"What she said Uncle J, I'm going to gather my lot and head on my way. I'll phone you later Boo" Joseph speaks, hugging his sister and kissing her forehead before making his way past his uncle.
"I'm really sorry Uncle John, I didn't mean to upset you. It's just frustrating when she starts saying it was because of his age when I know for certain it was murder! It's just so-so..." Boo trails off as she sits at the end of the bed, John taking a seat beside her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
"Your mother would be so proud of you right now. She always fought for what she believed in, even if it meant hurting people. She had this gut instinct about a lot of stuff and she never let it go until she was proven right. You are just like her. Martha may look like your mum but you are more like her than you care to admit. Don't get me wrong you have your dad in there as well, like his stubbornness and his weird fixation on gross things." Boo laughs when her uncle says this, wiping her tears from her eyes. "But you hold so much emotion and fire within you that I do not doubt for a single second that your mother is Mykala Watson-Holmes. You are a fantastic woman Boo Joanna Watson-Holmes. And you are an even better detective" John smiles down at his niece before kissing her forehead and leaving the room, this time using the walking stick he came to this flat with for a reason. Old age.