Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock BBC, or any of its characters, as much is obvious. However, I do own my own creations, just as any other writer.
This takes place right before the final episode, 'The Great Game' and will eventually have spoilers. Cheers!
Kathleen Gray Wright was having difficulty getting to sleep that night, her mind distracted by the coded message on her dining room table. She knew she shouldn't have picked the envelope up and brought it home with her, especially since it didn't belong to her in the first place but she couldn't help it. The need to solve the puzzle was much too great and in a moment of weakness, Kathleen had stolen someone else's riddle.
Tossing and turning for less than another minute, Kathleen decided she'd already breached someone's privacy by stealing the envelope and sealed puzzle, and taking a peak wouldn't necessarily be any worse on top of it all. Kicking the daft blue comforter off, she hurried into her small dining room and scooped up the white envelope with eager hands. The lip couldn't have been opened any faster as she plucked the strangely worded letter in her grasp.
'My dear friend,
T WPQE L DFCACTDP QZC JZF LE ESP BFPPY SZEPW
Xx'
Staring longingly at the puzzle it took a matter of seconds before Kathleen was scrambling for a pencil and scribbling right onto the wood of the table, the code. It took her three tries to find the proper count before she was cracking the Caesar cipher and staring down at the revealed message.
I left a surprise for you at the queen hotel
Biting the end of the pencil, Kathleen began debating in her mind what to do. The Queen Hotel was only a cab ride away, but if she went how would she know what she was looking for? And should she really delve herself into someone else's personal life more than she had already?
Heaving a heavy sigh she ran her fingers through her strawberry ginger hair, the short layered strands curling at the ends and hooking around her fingers tips in tangles. She couldn't believe the audacity of herself, how could she even consider heading to the hotel in search of whatever was left for someone else.
Tucking the written letter back into the envelope, Kathleen moved away from the table and back to her tiny bedroom. The wallpaper was peeling, the flowered designs faded and torn from the years of misuse. Her bed was decorated with an ugly blue comforter that her younger sister, Joanne had given her just two Christmases ago. It provided little to no heat, but out of love for her sister, Kathleen had kept the useless thing. Beside the bed was a tiny little dresser that contained ten different coloured shirts, and one common black waistcoat that she'd wear with everything. With a cemented mind she slipped on a pair of black jeans that had been lying carelessly on the floor and opened the dresser to pick out a red shirt and the black waistcoat. Buttoning the coat together, Kathleen made her way out of the small rented flat and out to the street corner.
As she hailed a taxi it occurred to her that she had made up her mind rather quickly, jumping into the back seats and rattling off the address. The hotel appeared faster than she thought and within minutes she was inside and studying the fancy red and white decor. The carpets had been freshly vacuumed, left now for the customers milling about to dirty it up.
"Can I help you?" A secretary at the front desk called over to her. Kathleen glanced at the young woman and took in the sleek eyebrows, pointed jaw and dark eyes. She was a true beauty, one that could easily pass for a model in today's media standards.
"Actually, I'm—" Kathleen didn't even know what the woman could help her with, but she'd give it a shot, "looking for something. A... surprise of sorts..?"
Immediately the woman's helpful features darkened, much like the dark makeup that covered her eyes. She seemed to understand the meaning better than Kathleen, and ducked behind the desk to retrieve a small package. It was square in shape, small enough to fit in her pocket but large enough to contain something that certainly didn't belong to her. Chewing down on her thin lower lip, Kathleen tried her best to act impassive as she took the small box in her hand and eyed the brown wrapping. She was shocked with how easy it was to obtain someone else's 'surprise'. In fact, she hadn't even approached the woman first to ask for anything. Fingering the paper wrap, she took a chance and began to unwrap it until a shaky hand was placed in her way.
"Please ma'am. I'll ask that you don't open that in here." The secretary spoke shakily, her fingers trembling as they hovered over the package. "Please, ma'am" she repeated.
Kathleen immediately realized she should have listened to her father, Marshall and all his warnings about taking things that didn't belong to her. She should have obeyed the law and left the envelope alone, and even more, she shouldn't have come to this hotel asking for something that didn't belong to her; but how could she give the package back to the woman without having her phone the police for her impersonations and thievery. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Kathleen took the package and rushed out of the hotel at top speed.
What had she done?
Looking down at the little package she let her fingers finish the process the secretary had stopped her from completing inside the hotel. Letting the wrapping fall to the cement below, Kathleen flipped open the two cardboard lips and discovered a small strange wireless remote. Its shape and mould suggested that it belonged to a remote controlled race car, much like the ones her older brothers had played with in their younger years. Flipping the box to its side, she held the remote in her hand and brushed a thin thumb over the circle of four buttons.
What kind of surprise was a remote control?