Long Time, No See

The Six Thatchers

Sherlock had focused on the small round table that was a shrine to Margret Thatcher. "Sherlock?" John said trying to get his attention.

"Mr Holmes?" Mr Welsborough as well.

"Sorry. You were saying?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, Charlie was our whole world, Mr Holmes. I ... I don't think we'll ever get over this." Mr Welsborough told Sher.

"No, shouldn't think so." Sher said, nodding and focusing back on that table. The couple looked startled at his statement but he continues to look at the table, frowning. I looked closer at the table there used to be something in the middle of it then my eyes went down to the edge of the rug, there was dust, looked like plaster, what they use to make busts of heads. He then looks at me and then back at the couple. "So sorry. Will you excuse me a moment? I just need to talk to my associates." I nodded and looked at John then walked towards the table with John. "You notice it too, don't you, Sam?" Sher asked in a slight whisper.

"I do, Sher. The plaster on the edge of the carpet, there was probably a head bust of Margret Thatcher in the middle of the shrine to her." I told him. "How did it break? Did someone break in and bust it or was it an accident?"

"Who?" Sher asked.

"The first female Prime Minister of England." I told him.

"Are you saying there is a different case here? Shouldn't we be focusing on the one we have?" John asked us.

"Potentially." Sher told us, he then turned to the couple and asked, "What is this?"

"Oh, it's a sort of shrine, I suppose, really." Mr Welsboroughtold us. "Bit of a fan of Mrs T. Big hero of mine when I was getting started."

"Right, yes." Sher said looking back at the table. Mr Welsborough then turns his attention back to his wife.

"Why are you playing for time?" John asked Sher.

" It's the gap." He began, "Look at the gap. It's wrong. Everything else is perfectly ordered, managed this whole thing's verging on OCD." He then looked at the couple once again, "My respects. This figurine is routinely repositioned after the cleaner's been in. This picture's straightened every day, yet this ugly gap remains. Something's missing from here, but only recently."

"Yes, a..." Sher then cut Mr Welsborough off, mid-sentence like he always does.

"... plaster bust." Sher finished.

"Oh, for God's sake. It got broken. What the hell has this got to do with Charlie?" Mrs Welsborough snapped, done with Sher's crap.

"Rug!" Sher said to them.

"What?" She said, confused.

"Well, how could it get broken? The only place for it to fall is the floor, and there is a big thick rug." Sher told them.

"Does it matter?" She asked him.

"I am sorry about this, Mrs Welsborough but it is worth letting him do this." I told the couple.

"Is he quite mad?" She asked John and I.

"No, he's an arsehole, but it's an easy mistake." John told her.

"Look, no, we had a break-in. Some little bastard smashed it to bits. We found the remains out there in the porch." Mr Welsborough told us.

"The porch we came in?" Sherlock questioned.

"How anybody could hate her so much, they'd go to the trouble of smashing her likeness ..." Mr Welsborough said to himself.

"I'm no expert but, er, possibly her face?" Sherlock began, "Why didn't he smash all the others? Perfect opportunity, and look at that one. She's smiling in that one."