It wasn't unusual for Holmes and Watson to spend much of their time together in silence. Both men were prone to introspection for different reasons and thus found each others' company amenable and even comforting, although neither of them would admit as much. However, as they walked back down Highgate Hill towards the shops and cafes of Holloway Road, Watson was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. It wasn't the macabre nature of the case that worried him and it wasn't anything that Holmes had done, for once. Watson was being plagued by his own guilty conscience.
Before they had been summoned to the cemetery by Lestrade, Watson had taken the opportunity presented by Holmes' Sunday morning lie-in to borrow his flatmates' laptop. He'd fully intended to log in to Facebook to view Sarahs' photos of their date the previous Friday but, whilst hunting Holmes' chaotic, icon strewn desktop for the web browser, he'd come across something he hadn't been expecting. A single image file, tucked away in the bottom right hand corner of the screen.
the-woman
The filename was enigmatic enough on its own. The fact that it belonged to Holmes, a man who only spoke of women if they were part of a case and who barely seemed to register their existence in his life, made it a temptation Watson couldn't resist.
He'd opened the file.
"Now what?" Holmes' annoyed cry broke in to the Doctors' thoughts.
"Lestrade again?" Watson asked as Holmes snatched his mobile from his pocket and jabbed angrily at the screen.
There was a momentary silence.
"No." Holmes replied, his anger gone as suddenly as it had arrived. For a moment he appeared flustered and unsure of himself, a side of Holmes his friend had not seen before, but the impression was only fleeting. Within moments Holmes seemed to recover himself.
"What do you make of that?" he said, handing Watson his phone.
On the screen was a picture message. The image of a man dressed in the robes of a Franciscan monk was followed by a few short lines of text:
Something's lost and can't be found
Please, St. Anthony, look around.
Lunch? Bring a bottle and that delightful Dr Watson too.
Watson scrolled to the message information but the callers' number had been blocked. At least he was familiar with the imagery.
"It looks like a Catholic prayer card." he said.
"St Anthony of Padua." responded Holmes. "Patron Saint of travellers. Finder of missing people and lost possessions."
"You think this has something to do with the case?"
"Hmmm, don't know yet." Holmes replied. "Either way Watson, we've been summoned to lunch."
"Oh god, not by your mother again?"
Holmes chuckled.
"I don't think Mummy has forgiven us for last time yet." he said. "We'd better stop at an off licence on the way, a good one too. You're about to have lunch with someone far more intimidating than Mother Holmes."