Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or anything you recognize from the show.
CHAPTER 9: MUSINGS OF A MURDERER
He's sitting on the edge of the crappy hotel bed almost a month after the murder, pulling the necklace on its delicate chain through his fingers rhythmically. The action calms him. He stares at a picture of Patty sitting beside the bed.
In the picture, Patty is wearing a deep red cocktail dress. Her golden-red hair is twisted half up to show off the fancy gold earrings he'd gotten for her that one Christmas. She's wearing black stiletto heels.
I didn't mean too, baby. I'm so sorry. You brought it on yourself. I had too. I'm so, so sorry, baby.
He felt like he had every time he'd had to beat her; he hadn't liked it, but she was just so frustrating sometimes. He scowls, then his face crumples and he sniffs.
The charm of the necklace catches on his fingers and he looks down.
Such a pretty thing: a small gold key, understated and simple, with a fancy heart-shaped top formed from curlicues. He traces one with a fingertip.
It wasn't something he would have ever given Patty. This necklace he kept as a reminder. A reminder to never, ever do what he had done ever again.
He looks down at it and whispers the words he's said a million times since he got it.
"I'm so sorry…"
…
Lestrade was at his desk filing a report when a sharp, businesslike voice spoke from the front of his desk.
"Detective Inspector Lestrade?"
He looked up.
A young woman was standing on the other side of his desk. She had that odd half-shaved hairstyle, straight strands of dyed orange hair hanging past her shoulders along the back of her head and on one side of her face. She was wearing thick eyeliner and lipstick of the same shade of dark purple, a green tank top under a black leather jacket, and blue jeans covered in gaping holes with black combat boots. Her nails were painted neon green.
"That's me. Can I help you, miss?"
"I'm here to pick up my niece."
Lestrade blinked. The woman rolled her eyes and elaborated.
"I'm Sabrina. I'm here for Violet Holmes. Didn't he tell you?"
Lestrade shook his head, too surprised to speak. This was Violets aunt?
Sabrina heaved a heavy sigh that seemed to come from the steel toes of her boots and let her head fall back. Every line of her body spoke of exasperation.
"He said he needed to check something out and told me he'd drop her off at the station." She sat down in one of the chairs near his desk with an annoyed huff. "Do you mind if I wait here?"
"Not at all."
They sat in awkward silence for about five minutes.
Lestrade cleared his throat. "So your Violet's aunt."
"Yes."
"Why did you raise her and not Sherlock? He mentioned you just gave Violet back to him."
Sabrina gave a small, humorless chuckle. "I don't suppose he told you anything about her past, did he? Well, Mr. Lestrade, when my sister was murdered five years ago, my parents immediately filed for custody. They claimed Sherlock was an unfit father for a baby girl. They told the court about his job, how it was less than steady time-wise." She broke off at the confused look on Lestrade's face and clarified. "He was a detective with the NYPD at that point. They told about his experiments, how he kept human body parts in his fridge and owned guns that he didn't exactly keep locked up, especially not at that point in time. My parents hate me and I them, and I didn't want Violet living with them. So I filed for custody, and I won." She gave a small shrug. "Only problem was that Violet is a lot like her father. She's very, very intelligent and gets bored easily. I'm not nearly as smart as she is, and it's exhausting trying to juggle a job that needs too much time and a kid who needs too much attention: I'm a photographer for a magazine. I would get so tired and so frustrated that I snapped at her one too many times. She's a sensitive soul. She hates being snapped at, so she was less then pleasant to me. So I switched custody over to Sherlock. It seemed the easiest option for the both of us."
Lestrade nodded, but his brain kept looping back to one sentence.
…when my sister was murdered five years ago…
"Aunt Sabrina!"
Lestrade jerked back into the world of the living as Violet skipped over to his desk and bounced into Sabrina's lap, throwing her arms enthusiastically around her aunt's neck. Something in Sabrina's expression softened, and she wrapped her arms around Violet as well.
"Hey, kiddo. Missed you."
"Daddy says you're taking me to the park."
"I am. Ready?"
"Yeah!"
Sabrina stood, transferring Violet to the floor. The little girl slipped her hand into Sabrina's and waved cheerfully.
"Bye, Daddy. Bye, Mr. Watson. Bye, Mr. Lestrade."
Sabrina gave everyone a curt nod and left, leading Violet, who was skipping at her side, chattering away.
Lestrade was bending once again over the report on his desk when he heard Violet call out "Hi, Freak Lady!"
A few seconds later, Donovan rushed past, her face tinged with red. It took all Lestrade had not to burst out in laughter.
…
Sabrina, tired, unlocked the door to her apartment. Violet skipped past her and immediately went to her room.
Having spent a good two hours at the park, Sabrina had called Sherlock, who had told her to take Violet back to her apartment. He would pick her up there.
Sabrina collapsed on her couch with a sigh, closing her eyes. It had been a very long day at work yesterday. Hopefully Violet would be worn out and would play quietly for a while.
Sabrina heard footsteps and opened one eye. Violet had come out of her room, holding her doll by one arm.
Sabrina smiled to herself. She remembered when Violet had gotten that thing…
The box felt light, but that was no indicator of what was in it. For all Sabrina knew, her parents had sent Violet a box full of packing peanuts. She wouldn't put it past them.
"Whassat, Auntie?"
Violet was up from her nap.
"Present from Gram and Gramps."
"For you?"
"No, for you, Miss Four-year-old. Wanna see what they gave you?"
Violet came closer and watched as Sabrina cut open the tape holding the box shut, opening the flaps and pushing aside packing peanuts to reveal a doll.
The doll had a stuffed cloth torso with plastic limbs and head, curly blonde hair, and blue eyes. It was dressed in a very frilly pink dress, lacy white socks, and shiny black Mary Janes. There was a shiny pink satin ribbon in its hair. Sabrina inwardly rolled her eyes. She had gotten Violet a child's book with diagrams of human anatomy in it, and Violet was still reading it. She would have no use for a doll.
Sabrina lifted it out. "They sent a doll." She handed it to Violet.
Violet took the doll and held it out at arms length, brow furrowing.
"What'm I s'pposed to do with this?" she asked.
Sabrina barely held back a laugh. "You're supposed to play with it."
"Why is it so pink?"
Sabrina did laugh this time. "I don't know, kiddo. That's just how it was made."
Still looking confused, Violet went back to her room, still holding the doll.
Violet was a quiet kid by nature. When silence issued from her room, Sabrina assumed Violet was reading and left it at that.
Then Violet walked past her into the kitchen, exiting the kitchen with the scissors Sabrina had used to open the box. She walked back into her room. Sabrina looked after her for a second, then shrugged. Violet was a smart kid and knew how to use scissors.
She only got worried when Violet passed her again, minus the scissors and her cupped hands full of what was unmistakably blonde curls of hair. Sabrina followed Violet back to room and froze at the doorway.
Violet had laid the doll out on a blanket on the floor. The dolls dress, socks, shoes, and ribbon were lying in a neat pile beside it. Violet had used the scissors to cut the hair on the left side of the dolls head as close as she could, and had arranged the rest of the hair to mimic Sabrina's own hairstyle. She had used her brand-new pack of markers (a gift from Sabrina's boyfriend) to draw shapes on the dolls torso. Beside her lay the book Sabrina had given her.
With a jolt, Sabrina realized what she was doing: drawing organs on the dolls body, and from the looks of it, had decided to start drawing bones on the torso.
Violet looked up and blinked innocently at her aunt.
"I think her hair looks better this way." She stated calmly and went back to drawing a line on the dolls leg.
Sabrina couldn't help it. She busted out laughing.
There was a knock on the door and Sabrina stood up to answer it.
It was Sherlock. He gave her a curt nod. "How was she?"
"Just fine." Sabrina responded, nodding back at him.
Violet flew up and hugged Sherlock's leg, then turned back and gave Sabrina a big smile.
"Bye, Aunt Sabrina!" she sang, hugging her. Sabrina hugged her, and then watched as she left with her father.
"Bye, Violet." She said.
Back in her apartment, Sabrina took a deep breath, closing her eyes.
God, Violet reminded her so much of Kristy that sometimes it physically hurt. Violet had her father's hair and eyes, but had Kristy's cheerful temperament and that way of speaking that had been peculiar to her sister: an almost accent-like way of forming words Kristy had been completely unconscious of. Violet did the same thing.
It was still so easy to close her eyes and see Kristy, her hair loose and flowing, brown eyes smiling, her favorite necklace around her neck: a small gold key with a curlicued top in the shape of a heart.
Sabrina took a deep breath and let it out, blinking back the tears.
"We're gonna find him someday, Kristy." She whispered. "And when we do, I'm gonna break that SOB's nose for you."
