A/N: This will make references to the Devil's Foot, just in case anything sounds familiar x
Jinx: An unlucky force, person or thing.
"Stop it, John."
"Stop what? I'm driving, I'm not doing anything else."
"I can hear you thinking. You're being too noisy."
"Oh? What was I thinking?"
"You were complaining to yourself that it was too hot and you wished you had worn shorts instead of jeans."
Silence, then... "How on earth did you know that?"
Sherlock Holmes smirked from the passenger side of the car he had 'borrowed' from Mycroft as John Watson stared ahead at the road in silent amazement. They were currently driving along E Florence Avenue in Los Angeles, searching for their client's house. Josie Marx, a small, red-headed woman who looked to be about thirty, had travelled all the way to Baker Street to present her case, and although Sherlock had immediately dismissed it, John had managed to persuade him, stating that she had made a lot of sacrifices and they should at least grant her this. Still, Sherlock had sulked throughout the 10 hour flight and hadn't missed an opportunity to tell John that this was a complete waste of time. Haunted house indeed, he thought to himself. Ms. Marx had literally thrown herself at Sherlock's feet and begged that he find the "spirits that continued to terrify her." Sherlock had very bluntly told her that there were no such things as ghosts, but when she had described her husband's suspicious death, he had to admit that his interest had been piqued. Stephen Marx's body had been found by his six-year-old daughter in his drawing room, which had been locked from the inside, as had all the windows. Little Milly Marx had managed to find the key to the locked room and had walked in to find her father sat slumped in his armchair by the fireplace, a glass of brandy resting slack in his grip. Of course, Milly hadn't sensed anything was wrong, until she moved closer to her father and shook his knees in an attempt to get his attention. She had only begun to feel scared when she glanced up at his face to see him retaining an expression of utmost horror - a convulsion of terror which had sent the little girl screaming for her babysitter.
Finally, they arrived at Josie Marx's house. When they had first met her, Sherlock had deduced that she was exceedingly rich, and that statement was definitely not untrue. The mansion they drew up alongside of was pure white, with long pillars decorating the front and a large water fountain placed on the front lawn, a wide gravel road circling it. As the two of them got out from the car, the large double doors opened to reveal Ms. Marx as she hurried down the seven steps to meet them.
"Mr. Holmes," she said as she shook his hand, ignoring John's outstretched one, "Thank you so much for agreeing to come out here. I don't know what I would have done without you."
Sherlock was about to give a curt reply when a quiet, "Mommy?" from the door sent three heads swivelling towards the voice. Milly Marx was half hidden behind one of the doors, her copper hair hanging in curls around her shoulders and clutching a small teddy bear to her. Her simple and plain white dress proclaimed her innocence, and made her look very vulnerable. Sherlock eyed her critically.
"This is your daughter?" Ms. Marx nodded. "She found the body?" Josie flinched at the word body, but nodded all the same. Sherlock took a few strides forward and crouched down in front of Milly.
"Miss Marx," (John immediately rolled his eyes) "I'm going to need you to tell me exactly what happened on the night you found your father's dead body." Milly frowned at him, before looking uncertainly at her mother. She nodded encouragingly.
"I, um, went to find my dad, because it was my bedtime and he always reads Each Peach Pear Plum to me. The, er, room downstairs was locked, so I found a spare key in his bedroom, 'cause he told me it was there if I ever needed it. Then-"
"You went in our room without asking?" Ms. Marx asked coldly. Milly hesitated, then nodded slowly. Ms. Marx opened her mouth to say something to her daughter, but John quickly interrupted her.
"Ms. Marx, if Milly didn't go into your room, who knows how much longer your husband would be rotting downstairs?" John's voice was very stern, and even Sherlock raised his eyebrows at him. Ms. Marx glared at him, before relenting and gesturing to Sherlock to continue.
"What happened next... Milly?"
Milly seemed to have recovered somewhat from the outburst she was waiting to hear from her mother, and now looked back at Sherlock. "When I went into the room with the big fire, Dad was sitting in his chair next to it. I couldn't see him very well because there were no lights on, but the fire was lit so when I moved closer I could see his face... He looked very scared, as if someone had frightened him." She paused. "He frightened me, and that made me scream. Ellie came and found me."
"Ellie is...?" Sherlock looked up at Ms. Marx.
"... Our babysitter. She looks after Milly when I'm busy." Beat. "I'm sure you don't want to listen to a child, Mr. Holmes, so why don't I show you the rest of the house, and then the drawing-room where my husband was? Perhaps then you'll be able to sense the spirits."
"Thank you, Ms. Marx." Sherlock said with false politeness as he straightened and followed Ms. Marx into the house, leaving John outside on the steps. He was about to follow the detective when he felt something tugging at his jacket. He glanced down to see Milly looking up at him with big brown eyes. He gave her a warm smile and sat down on the steps next to her. She followed suit and shuffled closer to him.
"What's your name?" she asked him.
"John." he answered. He gestured to her teddy. "What's your friend's name?"
Milly smiled down at her bear. "Rosaline."
John raised his eyebrows. "That's a big name. Where did you learn it?"
"It's Daddy's friend's name."
"Your daddy had a lady friend?" Milly nodded. "I see. Did he see her often?"
"He went out every week with her."
"Did he tell you?" Milly shook her head. "Did you seen them hug or kiss?"
"Daddy kissed her once. I don't know if they've hugged, though."
"That's OK. Does your mum know?"
"I don't know. I don't think she does."
"Do you like Rosaline?"
"Yes. She buys me presents and takes me to the zoo. Do you have a lady friend?"
John smiled. "Yes, her name's Sarah."
"That's nice. Where does she live?"
"She lives in England. I live there too."
"Is that why you talk funny?" she asked.
John laughed. "Yes, that's why I talk funny. Have you ever been to England?"
Milly shook her head. "Mommy goes there a lot for her work, but I've never been. Ellie has said that she'll take me one day."
"Ellie looks after you?"
Milly nodded. "She plays tea party with me. Do you want to play with me?" She suddenly perked up at the idea.
John hesitated. "I, er, I don't know." He looked inside the house in time to see Sherlock swooping into the drawing room, followed by Ms. Marx, who didn't even glance at her daughter.
"Sure, why not?" John gave Milly a big grin as she grabbed his hand and led him into the house and up the grand staircase, then down a plush corridor into her room. Her bedroom was very big, with a light pink carpeted floor and a big white bed in the middle of the space. A purple rug sat to one side of the room, where a number of toys were lying on top. Milly led John over and sat down, looking at him expectantly. He sat cross-legged next to her as she thrust a teacup and saucer into his hand and pretended to pour tea into it from a white china teapot. She chatted to him about random subjects, while he smiled and nodded in response.
The party was very long. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but was surprised that Milly had not yet tired.
"Having fun?" A voice from behind made John start, and he spun round to see Sherlock leaning against the doorway, a smile on his face.
"Yes, thank you." John replied. "Excuse me." he said to Milly, who nodded in permission before resuming her conversation with Rosaline.
John got up from the floor and stood opposite Sherlock. "Found any ghosts, then? Did the ghouls scare Marx to death?" he asked. Sherlock scowled at him.
"No, surprisingly enough. Though I did find a strange ash amongst the fire in the drawing room."
John frowned. "Could it be poison?"
"Possibly. If the poison was combustible it's likely that Marx inhaled it, thus causing him to fall unconscious and then die." Sherlock answered.
"Do we have any suspects?"
"Ms. Marx explained to me that recently there have been a number of investors interested in this property, even though the house isn't for sale. She has given me four names who keep persisting in their offers, and if Mr. Marx was refusing them, it might be worthwhile talking to them."
"Hmm. Sounds strange. Don't forget that Ms. Marx is a suspect too."
Sherlock frowned. "What do you mean?"
John lowered his voice, conscious of Milly in the room. "Mr. Marx was having an affair. If Josie found out, what's to say she wouldn't kill him?"
"How do you know he had an affair?"
"Milly told me."
Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "The six-year-old?"
"Yes." John said defensively. "She's very smart for her age. She told me she'd seen her father kiss this 'Rosaline'. She also said that the woman took her out to the zoo and bought her things. If Mr. Marx was looking to divorce Josie, she might have killed him in a fit of anger."
"What about the child? Are you sure Mr. Marx would want to split up his family, leaving his daughter behind?"
John shook his head. "I'll bet he would try to gain custody of Milly. Ms. Marx is a horrible mother to her. She doesn't pay Milly any attention. You remember that when Ms. Marx told us about how Milly found her father, she said that her daughter cried for Elllie the babysitter, not her own mother. What does that say about Josie?"
Sherlock nodded. "It's a possibility. We'll talk to the investors first, then back here for Ms. Marx. Are you going to say goodbye to your friend?" he finished with a smirk.
John straightened. "Yes, I am." he said confidently. He moved back over to Milly, and crouched down next to her.
"Milly, my friend and I have to go now, but we'll be back later on, alright?"
Milly looked up at him and gave him a smile. "Alright, I'll walk you to the front door." With that, she got up and took John's hand, leading him out of the room. He raised his eyebrows at Sherlock in a told you so manner, who rolled his eyes and followed them along the corridor and down the staircase. Before they could walk out, a voice from upstairs stopped them.
"You're leaving so soon?" Sherlock and John turned around to see Ms. Marx leaning against the banister, a big pout on her face. "But I haven't shown you the kitchen, where the ghost activity is most prominent."
Sherlock sighed dramatically and John elbowed him. "Just do it." he muttered. "She won't stop pestering you otherwise, and it's not like this day could get any worse."
Sherlock looked down at him with a small smile. "You've jinxed it now," he said with a twinkle in his eye as he met Ms. Marx at the bottom of the stairs and followed her towards the back of the house. Milly tugged on John's hand.
"What do you want to do now?" she asked.
"Why don't you show me around your house?" he asked.
"OK." She led him along the hallway and pointed at doors as she went by. "That's the coat room, that's the bathroom, that's the cellar, that's-" Milly was cut off by a deafening rumbling noise, and all the objects in the lobby began to shake. The chandelier above them rattled, and plaster from the ceiling fell from above. It had to be when we were here, John thought to himself over the mighty ruckus of the earthquake. More parts of the ceiling were falling, and John was torn between rushing to the kitchen to find Sherlock or finding safety for himself. When the six-year-old girl next to him clung to his leg, he knew there was no choice in the matter. Praying that Sherlock would be OK, he swooped down and scooped Milly into his arms before rushing to the door where the basement was. He ran as quickly as he could down the stairs and into the small, bare room. Before he could do anything else, the wooden timbers from the ceiling crashed to the ground around them, and John dived to the floor, tucking Milly beneath him as the world around them collapsed and a sudden burst of pain erupted in his head, causing him to lapse into darkness.