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I woke up in a cold sweat. Yesterday I had been putting these thoughts off, and now the dam had broken. When I first learned about the death of Harry I guess my military training kicked in. Now I realized. Harry and her wife are dead, I would never see my sister again. There wasn't even a body to be buried because all that was left was...ash. My head began spinning. The girl in the next room is the last thing I had left of my sister. I listened through the walls, trying to hear her breathing, trying to process the fact that she is still here. Thats when I heard sobbing. Every adult knows there are two types of crying. There is the loud cry which means the child needs attention, and there is the silent cry. That triggered the parental reflex, the silent cry means something's wrong, something is very, very wrong.'Well of course she is crying, she just lost her mums' I silently wondered about what her life was like before walking to her room. That's when I heard a lullaby drifting out
"Sleep small baby
Rest your head
The day is done
and it's time for bed"
"Dream of meadows
butterflies
million flowers
bright blue skies"
I didn't know how one small song could hold so much emotion. It broke my heart, all the memories of lost friends filled my head. Tears came out as they filled my head. Those feelings I had locked up so tightly simply poured out as I slid to the floor.
"Uncle John?" I heard Erin ask
"Hmm?" I asked
"Are you okay?"
"Are you?"
"Just fine" she told me with a grin. I saw her shields go up and her feelings buried away until she was alone.
We walked to the kitchen in a comforting silence.
"So you hungry?"
"You can cook?" I asked in disbelief
"Yes I can cook" she said in an almost perfect imitation of me
"Nice." said a voice from the doorway
"What else can you do?" Sherlock inquired.
"Nothing much. How's your neck" she replied looking slightly smug
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This girl was clever. She observed everything she saw, I would be impressed if not for the fact that she humiliated me in front of Mycroft. Her analyzing seemed to be different than mine. Erin could see the same crime scene I would and arrive at the same conclusion but in a different way. There was a problem though. Buried deep in her eyes was a flicker of sentiment and that just wouldn't do.
"So now what?" she asked John when they had finished
"Now I go to work and Sherlock waits for a case."
"Anything fun to do around here?"
"There's crap telly and books."
"Great" she said sarcastically
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It was 11:00AM and I was bored as hell. There was nothing to do and my brain was processing but there was nothing to process. The detective on the couch wasn't much better. Already he was shooting the wall and I was ready to practice my marksmanship with him if I didn't do something soon. Then the doorbell rang and I heard Sherlock run to the door.
"Lestrade. What are you doing here?" I heard through the walls
"There's been a murder. One of the homeless was found dead in an alley."
"Why are you coming to me?"
"The victim had no friends, no family, and no rivals yet there are stab wounds in his chest."
"Murder weapon?"
"None"
I walked out of my room and silently crept downstairs while they talked. Lestrade saw me.
"Hello there." then turning to Sherlock "I never took you for someone with kids"
"She's John's niece"
"Oh it's nice to meet you" My underfed brain saw everything about him.
"You're having wife issues, you work for Scotland Yard, and you use nicotine patches. You are also on an important case that is difficult to solve."
"How did you..?"
"Tan line on your finger, badge in your pocket, slight bandaid looking object on your forearm, and pastry crumbs on your collar, and you are here." I told him quickly.
"Sherlock, what have you done? She's exactly like you"
"I've done nothing." He said with a smirk
"Can I come to the crime scene too?"
"Why wold you want to come?"
"Bored" I shrugged but on the inside I was freaking out. This was a street performer, he could be Seamus, Daniel, or Liam.
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On the way to the crime scene Sherlock stopped and gave a ten pound note to a homeless person.
"Since when do you help the poor?"
"My homeless network, they are my eyes and ears all over the city."
"Makes sense." mere minutes later we arrived. I recognized the body almost instantly. It was Umbra. He played in the square on a regular basis, when I met him he was my age and played the recorder beautifully. We called him shadow because he could go anywhere and come out without ever being seen. We got to know him quite well in our London days.
"He is a simple homeless person killed for his day's earnings"
"Anderson, shut up and don't speak"
"Well, he's a performer not just homeless." Sherlock looked at me
"The fully intact recorder between the bags of trash that's at the same angle as his hand?" He nodded in understanding
"And who are you?"
"I'm Erin,I'd say nice to meet you but I don't lie."
"Erin, see what you can find out from the body." Sherlock said to me
I walked over and analyzed the body.
"He was a street performer like I said earlier. Even if you find his friends thy won't talk. He put up a hell of a fight, if this murder was't for his territory it was done by the Clef."
"Territory?"
"Street performers here and in other big cities have a system. Each person gets a small territory that people walk through. Everyone in your territory hears only your music and therefore only gives you coins. If someone is playing in your territory the amount of people who come to give you spare change decreases significantly. His territory was outside a café, that's really good, anyone who walks out notices his music first."
"So what you're saying is that someone killed him because they wanted to play in his area?" Lestrade asked
"Maybe. There is also the Clef."
"What's that?"Sherlock asked looking genuinely curious
"It's more or less a gang. Under them you get the best territories but all the money you earn goes to their leader who divides it among everyone."
"So a mini dictator."
"Yes, and if you don't give all your earnings your are killed."
"Nice job. Is there anyway to tell?" Sherlock asked
"I was getting to that. Anderson, there is a recorder between the trash bags, bring it here."
"You can't talk to me like that!" I looked at Lestrade
"Anderson just do it." On the instrument I found what I was looking for, a treble clef on the mouthpiece.
"It was the Clef"
I hope you liked it. Next chapter we meet her brothers. Please review for more chapters.