Chapter Fifteen - Inside Information
"Well, now that we are all fed and happy, it's down to business." Holmes sat back down in his seat, his hands folded before him on the table, smiling across at his brother. "Let's get right to it, shall we? What do you, Mycroft Holmes, know of the Red Circle?"
Mycroft lowered his wine glass from his lips without taking a sip. "Oh brother, are you sure you want to go down that road?"
Holmes swirled his own wine around in his glass. "That bad, hmm?"
"Yes, that bad." Mycroft sighed. "Please tell me you did not manage to get yourself wrapped up in the affairs of the Red Circle and the like."
"I didn't. She did." Holmes nodded to Caroline.
"Did not. My father may have though, by the sounds of it."
"And what evidence do you have of this?" Mycroft asked.
"The word of his lover, a fortune teller, and a dead man who called him a crook."
Mycroft raised his eyebrows and gulped his wine. "Oh dear..."
Caroline withdrew and handed him the mysterious letter sent to her which had started it all. Once he had read it she explained to him everything since then, most recently the confrontation with Phelps and the sniper shooting. It was strange how a letter - which had seemed simple and innocent enough in the beginning - had set off this wild chain of events, so wild in fact that they were now dealing with a mysterious organization.
"Which brings us here to you," she finished. Then she added, "Because Sherlock is at a loss."
John laughed and Mycroft smiled.
"Yes, yes, hilarious, I know. I'm glad you find my ignorance so amusing. But-" Holmes broke off suddenly, looking at Caroline. "You called me by my name."
"Yes, I did."
"You've never done so before."
"Oh."
"Yes, it's always 'Holmes'."
"If I remember correctly, I did use your name when I said goodnight when we returned home from the pub."
"Pub?" cried Mycroft. "Oh, don't tell me it's that ghastly place you go to get your brains punched out for money."
"Accurate description," said Caroline.
"Precisely the place."
"We got a little tipsy," Caroline continued.
"Tipsy," laughed John. "You were drunk."
"I can't imagine what they'd be like if you got a bit of drink in them," mumbled Mycroft.
"Trust me, it was very amusing," John told him.
"I'll take your word for it.
"But still, you said, 'Goodnight Sherlock Holmes.' You've never just called me 'Sherlock'."
"Oh, well so what? Did I offend you?"
"No, in fact, quite the opposite." Holmes winked at her from across the table and she blinked back, face and neck rapidly flushing.
"Now, do tell, Brother dear," Holmes pressed. "You clearly know of whom we speak, therefore you must know something about this mysterious Red Circle. You're a government man - give us some of your inside information."
"Well, I'll start by saying that while I've heard of them, yes, I don't know much, so don't get your hopes up too high, and don't get yourself too excited." Mycroft cleared his throat before continuing. "The're a special organization. They infiltrate. Governments, systems, the army, even the workforce."
"Like Phelps working at the hotel," said Caroline.
"Yes, indeed. A prime example. So you must be careful - they could be anywhere."
"Well-" She played with her napkin. "-That's certainly reassuring. Wait, did you say they could also infiltrate the army?"
"Yes indeed, my dear."
"Hmm." She hummed thoughtfully and sat back in her chair, rubbing the string of pearls around her neck.
"What are you thinking, Caroline?" John asked her.
"Well, Madam Cosma said that we should check in with Papa's fellow army men, that they may be able to help us get a lead on what he was doing. And if the Red Circle infiltrates systems like the army, perhaps my father had a run-in with one of those officers."
"Could be," said Mycroft.
"You might be onto something," John agreed.
"May I have your pearls?" Holmes said suddenly, turning to her.
Her hand flew up to touch them at her neck. "Do you plan to give them back?"
"Yes."
"Promise?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"There's been a man standing outside 221B, and he was outside Madam Cosma's as well. I think the pearls make you recognizable, and therefore, in potential danger."
"Well, goodness. Yes, take them then." She reached up to undo the clasp, but struggled. "Sorry, I'll remove them when we get home. I need to take a look in the looking glass to undo them. The clasp can be a little bit sticky."
"Very well." Holmes turned back to his brother. "Anything else?"
"That's it, I'm afraid. I can do some digging around though, if you'd like."
"Thank you, that would be appreciated."
They thanked Mycroft for dinner, and for his help, and headed on their way.
"Well goodnight then - Sherlock," Caroline said when they arrived back at 221B, parting ways for the night.
"Goodnight, Caroline."
"Oh, before I forget-" She reached up to attempt to remove her pearl necklace again. "Oh bother - here, just give me a moment." She was about to head upstairs to seek the help of the looking glass when his words stopped her.
"May I?"
"Oh, yes, that would work as well..." She turned around. Her fiery hair was pinned up with a curl hanging down the side, so she didn't need to hold it out of the way. He removed his gloves and worked at undoing the clasp. Now the skin of his fingers brushed the sensitive skin on the back of her neck, and she was reminded of the moment he had offered her his hand to help her into the carriage earlier that evening. Only this time, their skin really touched, nothing between them. The skin of his fingertips was coarse, but his touch was gentle.
The clasp gave him a bit of trouble as well, but he eventually got it undone. She was almost disappointed when he did, managed to finally undo it, and his fingers left her neck.
Now her neck felt empty without the pearls and she reached up to touch her now bare skin there. Her skin also felt cold now in the absence of his fingertips.
"Thank you."
"Of course. I shall tuck these away for safe keeping."
"All right. Don't lose them."
"Of course not. I will be very careful with them, I promise."
"Thank you." She was about to add, 'I know you will be', but then decided against it. "Whoever this Red Circle is, they've certainly got London afraid - myself included now."
"Don't worry, Caroline. You are safe. Here, and with Watson and I."
"I know I am. Thank you, Sherlock."
He took her hand and pressed a kiss - a deep kiss - to the back of it. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
He stepped inside his room door. "Goodnight."
She giggled and called down the staircase one last time, "Goodnight."
And with that they parted, he disappearing into his suite, and she heading upstairs to her own.
Their bidding each other goodnight was evolving - into what she couldn't be exactly certain at present, but there was no doubt that it was evolving.
Everything was.
Ooooo ;) Evolving indeed, haha!
Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed as always! :)