A/N: Sorry to anyone who has been waiting for this chapter. I've had a small writer's block with this story but I think it's gone. Hopefully.
Chapter Four
As Scarlett exited the cab, she looked up and down the well lit street. Hundreds of people were already hanging outside the museum, some of them waiting to get in. Taking a deep breath, she pulled out her invitation from her black purse and slowly walked towards the front entrance.
The night was clear, the stars twinkled brightly and the moon hung low, only showing one side of itself. With her free hand, Scarlett pulled her small jacket around herself, partly wanting to keep her dress hidden from sight.
"Good evening, Miss," said the front guard, taking her invitation and reading it over quickly. "Please go in and have a wonderful night."
"Thank you," she whispered quietly.
After following the directions through each corridor and room, she found herself in the main area and she stopped in the doorway. It was magnificently decorated. In front of her on the opposite side of the room was a bar and beside it were a few tables and chairs. A wooden dance floor sat to the side, but there was currently no one there. On the side wall there was a long buffet table full to the brim with food. The black ceiling was littered with candles that filled the room with a warm and soft glow.
"May I take your coat, Miss?"
Scarlett's head turned sharply in surprise as they voice startled her. At seeing who the young man was she nodded and stood to the side, allowing him to help her remove it. Once he was gone from her side, Scarlett exhaled deeply, running her hands down her floor-length black gown, loving how it sparkled evenly in the candlelight.
Scarlett walked one lap of the room, taking note of everyone that was there and where they currently stood. She knew what Eric's plan was and she knew she had to get the doctor's attention and the detective's, if she could. After seeing where both Watson and Holmes stood, she made sure to walk past slowly and much to her delight, the doctor glanced her way, their eyes meeting.
Turning her head away, Scarlett saw the object in which this night was for and she walked towards it. Slowly, her head curved to the side in curiosity. It wasn't quite what she was expected but all the same, it what's they were after. After a few moments, she heard movement directly beside her and there was no mistaking who it was.
"Do you like it?"
Scarlett turned at the familiar voice and found herself faced with Watson's piercing blue stare. A faint blush crept onto her cheeks causing her to look away, instead choosing to focus on the artefact once again. But she nodded slowly as she looked it up and down, appearing to take an interest.
"It's not quite what I expected to be honest," said Scarlett, shrugging uncertainly. "I thought the grand artefact was going to be something shiny or a treasure of some sort."
Watson chuckled lightly, placing both hands in the front pocket of jacket, shrugging faintly. "Well, it is a treasure, of sorts," he said, still clearly amused. "Are you here alone?"
At the unexpected question, Scarlett turned her head softly and nodded. "Yes," she replied quietly. "My fiancée was supposed to be joining me in London but further work has come up and he's decided to see it through first. It seems as though my trip here will remain alone. I will see him when I return home."
Music filled the large room in the museum from the classical orchestra that sat in the corner, almost invisible. As the beautiful sound reached them, they remained in silence, allowing the music to wash over them.
"Well, you look lovely," Watson said politely, subtly taking in the appearance of the strapless black gown.
The blush became more pronounced and Scarlett felt her natural shyness kick in. Soon, Watson turned his body to face her entirely and held out one hand which Scarlett eyed nervously.
"Seeing as we're both here alone, would you care to dance?"
Her previous embarrassment forgotten, she watched as a few other couples moved to the spot set out for them, she nodded and took his hand. "Sure," she whispered nervously, fearing her voice wouldn't work.
Together they moved gracefully onto the small dance floor and they moved closer, taking their positions. Scarlett felt her cheeks flush hot as their clothes touched by the barest of margins and the scent of the doctor reached her. He smelt of soap and cologne which was musky, bringing back pleasant and fond memories of her grandfather.
"Is Mr. Holmes here?" asked Scarlett, trying to cover her embarrassment.
Watson subtly looked around as they turned. "Yes, well, he is, somewhere," he said, unable to locate the detective. "It was requested he be here."
"Yes, I would imagine that an artefact such as that is priceless, one of a kind and needs extra protection."
"Exactly," agreed Watson. "Although, I don't think Holmes is that interested in the artefact itself. The main reason he agreed to this is because he's being paid for his services."
"Is there something else he'd rather be doing?" asked Scarlett.
Gracefully, Watson spun Scarlett before bringing her close once again, keeping in time with the music. "No, but he likes others to think he's an extremely busy man," said Watson with a soft smile. "Holmes isn't a people person. He likes to be on his own, alone in his room, in the dark."
"Then how did you the two of you ever become friends?"
Watson chuckled. "That is an interesting question," he said, his smile reaching his eyes, making the blue shine through clearly. "And it's a long story. Perhaps another time would be better to discuss such things."
"Oh, of course, I do apologise," said Scarlett quickly, feeling her embarrassment rise.
"No, I apologise, Miss Holmes, there is nothing for you to apologise for," said Watson. "You misunderstand me, I just think it would be better to discuss in a quieter location without all these distractions. Somewhere... quieter perhaps."
"Oh, I see," said Scarlett, nodding slowly. "Well, I'd still love to hear the story."
"I'm sure we could arrange a time," said Watson, spinning her around gently again.
After a few minutes the song ended and Watson took Scarlett's hand and led her towards the other side of the room where the buffet table sat. Releasing her hand he picked up a silver goblet and looked to her.
"Would you like a drink, Scarlett?"
"Yes, please."
Scarlett watched as he poured a small amount of red wine into the goblet and handed it to her. Scarlett muttered her thanks and waited until he had gotten one for himself. It was then that Watson spotted Holmes.
"Should we say hello?" asked Watson quietly, holding his arm out for arm.
"Of course," she said, nodding, linking their arms together.
They walked towards Holmes who stood there with two officers behind him and one beside him who was talking away animatedly. Holmes nodded every so often but never looked in his direction as he surveyed the room over and over again. On reaching him, it turned quiet as they stopped and Watson instantly shot a warning look Holmes' way.
"Good evening, Mr. Holmes," said Scarlett, smiling softly.
"Scarlett," he acknowledge with a nod of his head.
"Scarlett, this is inspector Lestrade," said Watson. "Inspector, this is Miss Holmes. She's in town for a week or so, visiting people here and there, including us."
They shook hands lightly. "Pleasure, Miss Holmes."
"Likewise," she said with a small smile. "What do you think of the exhibit?"
"A little pointless to be honest," he said gruffly. "I mean, it's a skull for goodness sake. It's not like it's an ancient gold treasure of a long dead pirate or anything."
"I believe Scarlett had similar thoughts although expressed a little differently," said Watson warmly. "What do you think, Holmes?" he added, turning his attention to the silent detective.
Scarlett took a sip of her drink while watching his eyes turn to Watson, lingering for a moment before he looked away again and answered. "Beethoven was a brilliant man, a musical genius some might say but displaying his skull is somewhat on the morbid side. The man deserves to rest in peace, not have his remains viewed at by individuals who have nothing better to do, which I'm sure some of them are here tonight, waiting for the opportunity to steal it."
As the last few words left Holmes' mouth, Scarlett looked away, taking a long sip of her drink. Inwardly, she worried. Surely, it couldn't be easy for anyone, even Holmes to know what was going on. She'd hardly said a word and none of her contacts were known. Even doing a check on her name wouldn't bring up anything. And she was positive that Holmes wasn't a mind reader. He wouldn't have to stay here if he was. Taking another long sip, Scarlett sighed inaudibly. The longer the night dragged on the more certain she was that getting away with this wasn't going to be so easy.
Suddenly, at the other end of the room a shatter sound reached them along with the piercing screams of a waitress. The room turned dead silent and everyone's attention focused on the bar at the top end. Unhooking her arm from his, Watson excused himself and went over to help, Holmes right on his heels, the inspector soon following when it seemed to come clear to him. Scarlett twirled on the spot and held her goblet in both hands, swallowing nervously.
Taking a few steps closer, Scarlett listened as they muttered to each other and it was only when Watson stood up she saw him. An elderly man lay on the floor, rigid and still on his back, his eyes wide open and staring up at the ceiling, his arms splayed out to his sides.
"He's been poisoned," said Watson with a heavy sigh.
"Are you sure?" asked Lestrade quickly.
Watson gave him an incredulous look. "I'm a doctor!" he exclaimed firmly. "He's been poisoned."
Just as a reply was about to come, it was cut off as a shrill was heard behind them.
"Inspector! Inspector! It's gone! The skull is gone!"
All turned and the inspector sharply strode up to the younger officer who spoke, his face white and eyes wide in fear. He looked to the platform where the unsecured skull was sitting only moments ago. "How is that possible! You were supposed to be watching it," he yelled at his officers who lined up in front of him without having been told. "You were all supposed to be watching it!"
"We just thought..."
"Well, you all thought wrong," barked the inspector, face turning red and livid. "I want-"
"Inspector?"
Lestrade turned and watched as Holmes came towards him at an almost leisurely pace. "Lock down the building and gather all of your officers for a search."
"Excuse me?" said Lestrade, an eyebrow rising slightly.
"The artefact is still in the building. Lock it down."
Silence penetrated throughout the room and everyone looked between the inspector and detective wondering if the latter's advice was going to be taken. And after a few slow seconds, the inspector nodded his head and looked back to his officers.
"Lock down the building," he ordered loudly. "Secure every door. Nobody leaves. If you find anyone, bring them back in here immediately. You've got half an hour. Report back here when it's done."
All officers gave one head nod before moving towards all possible exits and closed them down. Upon returning a few people wandering around the museum they soon all stood back in the main room, a large, loose circle instantly appearing, encircling Holmes and slowly, he turned on the spot, looking at the all the people that surrounded him, staring back.
"Alright now, let's see who the thief is, shall we?"
