Disclaimer – I don't own the characters. They belong to ACD, MG and SM and the BBC. No one pays me to do this, I do it for love.
Chapter Eight
Mycroft sat down on the chair that he was offered, one side of the metal table. He crossed one knee over the other and folded his hands in his lap. Renadon had taken his coat and umbrella. He had to admit to feeling a little naked without them. After a short pause, the door opposite opened and a familiar figure came in. Mycroft stood, out of conditioned respect for the new arrival.
'Oh, please sit down, Mr Holmes. No need to stand on ceremony here,' said Dame Joan Manning, the Director-General of MI5.
'As you wish, ma'am,' Mycroft acquiesced and retook his seat. The DG sat on the chair opposite.
'You present us with a bit of a problem, Mr Holmes,' she said.
'I do apologise, ma'am,' he replied.
'Yes, it is all a little unfortunate. We can't expect our own people to interrogate you, since you trained most of them. And we can't use any usual methods to conduct the interrogation, since you designed nearly all of them,' Dame Joan stated, bluntly.
'Indeed, ma'am, I fear you are quite correct in your analysis of the situation,' Mycroft apologised, again.
'Neither can we ask our American cousins to lend a hand, since the same conditions apply to them, also,' she went on. Mycroft simply nodded.
'So we've had to look a little further afield for assistance. We have been fortunate in obtaining the services of Mossad.' She paused and waited for Mycroft to respond. He didn't.
'Are you familiar with the name Isser Zamir?' she asked.
'I am, ma'am,' Mycroft replied.
'He will be leading the interrogation team,' she confirmed. Mycroft nodded again.
'Mr Holmes, it would make things so much easier if you would just tell us what you know about the security leak. It would save a great deal of time and trouble,' she implored him.
'Ma'am, if I knew anything about it, I would be more than happy to tell you but, until this morning, I was entirely unaware that there had been a security leak,' Mycroft declared.
'I am sure you know which particular document the leak refers to,' she commented.
'I can make an educated guess,' he replied. 'I can only think of one particular document that fits all the criteria. Does that make me look guilty?' he asked.
'Not necessarily but you are a clever man, Mr Holmes, and we are sure that, if you were guilty, you would cover your tracks well,' she replied.
'I'm curious to know what my motive might be, to suddenly turn rogue,' he mused.
'Unfortunately, Mr Holmes, on this occasion, you are not asking the questions.' She stood up and so did he.
'I do sincerely hope that we meet again under better circumstances,' Dame Joan said, with a regretful smile. Mycroft nodded but did not give any further response. His mind was on other matters, notably the imminent arrival of Agent Zamir.
ooOoo
The post mortem was almost complete. The cause of death had been confirmed as drowning. There were no obvious injuries to the body, other than some minor abrasions that had been inflicted whilst removing the corpse from the water, so were accounted for. Her last meal had been lamb and vegetables. She had consumed a certain amount of alcohol; the blood tests would show whether or not she was intoxicated. Blood and tissue samples had been taken to be tested for, amongst other things, any chemical substances. Sherlock had watched the whole process with an intense concentration that Lestrade could only admire and marvel at. He had taken in every detail, whilst being totally oblivious to everything else going on around him. It was almost as though he were in a trance-like state. Lestrade's phone had rung a number of times during the PM, but Sherlock had not even blinked. As the pathologist completed his examination and switched off the camera and microphone, Sherlock seemed to snap out of his trance and turn to look at Lestrade.
'Well, you clearly have some news,' he stated, bluntly.
'We know where she ate her last meal and who she ate it with,' Lestrade told him. Sherlock baulked slightly at the bad grammar but had given up correcting Greg Lestrade a long time ago. He simply raised his eyebrows, to prompt the DI to divulge this information.
'She had dinner at the Commissary with her former fiancé,' Lestrade announced. 'We're picking him up, just about now. Do you want to sit in on the interview?'
'No,' replied Sherlock, 'I'd like to speak to the people at the Commissary.' He stood up and left the mortuary, leaving Lestrade to confer with the pathologist.
ooOoo
Mrs Hudson had just finished Spring-cleaning the kitchen when Marie arrived, bringing William home from school.
'Oh, hello, Mrs H, it's so nice to see you again.' Marie greeted her, as William hurtled into the kitchen and gave Mrs Hudson a huge hug.
'Where's Daddy?' he asked.
'Daddy had to go to work, William,' Mrs H replied. William looked disappointed.
'Where's Mummy?' he asked.
'She's in bed, darling. Did you want to go and see her?' she asked. He nodded, with his bottom lip trembling slightly. Marie stepped in.
'Come on, then, William, let's see if she's awake.' William preceded Marie down the short corridor to his parents' bedroom. As he pushed open the door, Molly stirred and turned to look at him. She smiled and beckoned for him to come into the room. She saw Marie standing behind and said,
'It's OK, Marie, you can leave him here. I'll send him back when he's ready.' The nanny went back to the kitchen.
'How's your hip?' she enquired of Mrs Hudson.
'Oh, my hip's as good as it gets, thanks for asking, dear. Would you like a cup of tea?'
'Love one,' replied Marie. 'How's Molly?'
'Oh, not very good, I'm afraid. She hasn't eaten a thing, all day. She says even the thought of food makes her want to heave. She just keeps sipping water. She's been asleep for most of the day. Sherlock's on a case. He had to go out this morning and I haven't heard from him since. Sometimes, we don't see him for days, when he's working, though I expect you know that, already.'
'Yes,' Marie agreed, 'I've stayed over a time or two, to help Molly out, when he's been in the middle of something complicated. He's like a different person when he's working – so intense.'
'Oh, God, you don't know the half of it. He used to be even worse when he wasn't working. He used to get bored so easily and then he would be unbearable. At least when he was working he was quite cheerful. He's a lot calmer now, though. But then he's got plenty to occupy his mind, now, especially William. He adores that little boy. I think he sees a lot of himself in little Will. It grounds him. Who would have thought he would make such a good dad, when he used to behave like a five year old, half the time?' Mrs Hudson poured boiling water into the teapot and set it on a tray, on the kitchen table. She and Marie sat opposite one another and she continued her reminiscences.
'When he met John, that was when he started to change. He'd never had a proper friend before. John taught him about friendship, just by being loyal and showing him that he cared. He acted as the go-between, too. When Sherlock used to annoy people, John would smooth things over. And he used to tell Sherlock off about it. The weird thing was, Sherlock would listen to John and take on board what he said. I've never known him do that with anyone else – except for Molly, of course, but only after he came back from being away all that time. Before he jumped off the roof of St Barts – you do know about that, don't you?' Marie nodded. Molly had told her all about that, when she had stayed over, while Sherlock was in hospital, after disappearing from St. Hugh's.
'Yes, well, before he jumped off the roof, he used to be really horrible to Molly a lot of the time. But she just accepted that it was just the way he was and she loved him so much, anyway. But, when he needed help, he went to her, cos he knew he could always rely on her. See, loyalty, again, and caring. He knew she cared about him. You see, those of us who knew him best – who really knew him – could see that he was a really good person, inside; he just wasn't very good at showing it. He's a lot better at it now. He's learned a lot from John and Molly. But, when he's working, he does tend to revert back to the old Sherlock. He gets totally involved with the case and nothing else matters. Although he does, at least, remember to text, now and then, to let Molly know where he is. Well, to be honest, he does it to let William know where he is, cos he knows William really misses him when he's not here. They are so alike, I sometimes think he can read William's mind – but then, I sometimes think he can read anyone's mind, when he's doing his deductions. Have you ever seen him do that?'
'Oh, yes,' Marie replied, 'he did it to me when I first started to look after William. Fortunately, the other Mr Holmes had warned me that he would know everything about me within minutes of meeting him, so I was expecting something but the amount of detail was quite staggering. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought he'd been stalking me.' The two women laughed about that.
'What time do you finish, dear?' Mrs Hudson asked.
'Oh, five-thirty, usually,' Marie replied.
'Well, when it's your time, you go. I'll take care of William. I don't suppose Sherlock will be home by then and Molly, well, she's laid up, bless her.'
Marie offered to help Mrs Hudson prepare supper, which she accepted, and the two women set about the task.
ooOoo
William climbed onto his parents' bed and cuddled up to his mother.
'Hi, baby, did you have a nice day at school today?' Molly asked.
'Yes, thank you, Mummy. I had my violin lesson. We played 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star' and 'Three Blind Mice'. Have you had a nice day?' he asked
'Not too bad, babe. I've been sleeping a lot. Mrs Hudson came to look after me because Daddy had to go out. She's been taking good care of me,' Molly said, trying to reassure him. He looked so concerned.
'Will you be better soon, Mummy? I don't like it when you are poorly.' His little face crumpled and large tears rolled down his cheeks. Molly reached out to pull him to her in a comforting hug.
'Oh, William, don't cry, baby,' she soothed. 'Listen to me, darling.' She pushed herself up to a sitting position and put her hand under his chin, to raise his face to look at her.
'Listen really carefully because I'm going to tell you something very important,' she stressed. He looked at her, intently.
'I'm not really poorly, darling. I feel poorly because I have a new baby in my tummy and it's the new baby that's making me feel poorly,' she explained. William wrinkled his brow and looked a bit confused. Molly thought how best to explain this.
'You know if you have a new pair of shoes, they hurt your feet for a while, until you get used to them?' she asked. William nodded.
'Well, it's kind of the same with the baby in my tummy. It's making me feel poorly until I get used to it being there and then I'll be fine. It's just taking a while for me to get used to it, that's all. But, in the end, we'll have a new baby and you'll have a new brother or a sister to play with,' she concluded. William tried to make sense of this new information. Molly could almost see the cogs turning behind his eyes. She thought of another way to explain.
'Do any of your friends at school have brothers or sisters?' she asked. William gave this careful thought.
'Yes, they do. Charlie has a big brother, called George. Rosemary and Caroline are twins, so they have each other. Freddie got a baby sister, for Christmas. I don't think he asked for one but he got one anyway,' William concluded.
'Well, Daddy and I decided that we wanted to have another baby, which would be a brother or a sister for you. So the new baby is growing in my tummy, because that's where babies grow, right in here.' She pointed to her abdomen
'William, that's where you came from' she added. William looked at her and thought about that for a moment or two, then said,
'I came from the hospital. You showed me pictures of me in the hospital with you and Uncle Mytoft, when I was a baby.' Molly gave a little chuckle.
'Yes, that is true, you were in the hospital but before that, you were in my tummy. I have pictures of you in my tummy, too. I suppose I just never thought to show them to you. But I will and then you'll see where you came from.' She was beginning to feel nauseous again, from sitting up so long, so she reached out for the water, took a few sips, then lay back down in the bed.
'So you don't need to worry about me, OK? I will feel better, when I get used to having the baby here, right?' she repeated, to make sure he understood. He nodded and looked a little reassured. It was a lot to take in, she realised, and he was only three and a half, after all.
'Do you want to go and watch TV, now? Your favourite programme will be on, won't it?' she reminded him. He nodded and smiled, gave her a hug and scrambled off the bed, to run into the sitting room and take up his position on the sofa, TV remote in hand .
Molly lay back on the pillows. She hoped Sherlock would not be upset at her for going ahead with explaining to William about why she was so sick but she couldn't bear to see him looking so worried. She also hoped she had done a reasonable job of the explanation. Only time would tell, she thought, reaching out to sip some more water, then rolling over and going back to sleep.
ooOoo
