Chapter 24
Lestrade leaned against the brick wall. "We'll have to get forensics out here to identify these skeletons. But between the weapons we found hidden here, and the bodies, I believe it's safe to assume that Gruner is definitely the killer." A hard look crept into his eyes. "To think that John and Harry's own father actually plotted with them to have them murdered!" He twisted his upper body sideways and glared at the crawl space, and then he removed his cell phone to take some pictures of their findings. "Come on, we'd better notify the local police, and then we need to contact your brother, Sherlock, and bring him up to date. I'll need to station someone here, to ensure that nothing is moved or changed, and the forensic people will have to photograph everything in situ before they start removing anything." Sherlock nodded. It would take the forensic team many, many hours to finish the job of identifying the remains, he knew.
Lestrade contacted the Chelmsford police department on his mobile phone. Once a forensics team and a P.C. arrived, the members of the forensic team carefully removed the remains, bagged them, tagged, then, and put them in the evidence bags and boxes that they had brought with them. The P.C. told Lestrade that he was under orders to stay at the house and guard the crawl space's contents; he and other P.C.s would take turns doing so. Once they had left, Sherlock, Lestrade, and Lestrade's team returned to London, and to Scotland Yard, where Lestrade rang Mycroft, who told the detective inspector that he was coming.
Once Mycroft arrived, Sherlock and Lestrade brought him up to date, and Lestrade showed him the photos of the evidence that he had taken. Sherlock showed him the note that Gruner had written to Hamish Watson. As Mycroft silently read it, his lips pressed into a thin line, even as he managed to maintain his facade of stoicism. It was clear to Sherlock that despite his brother's efforts, Mycroft was more than a little disconcerted at the news—even angry and grieved.
When he handed the note back to Sherlock, the latter shook his head. "I once told John that Culverton Smith was a monster, a rotting thing, the most dangerous, the most despicable human being that I had ever encountered. A living, breathing coagulation of human evil." Sherlock pursed his lips into a thin line. "That was before I learned of Reuben Adelbert Gruner. I'd say he ties with Smith for that title. I might even say he wins that title."
Lestrade and Mycroft grimaced. "I suspect that John's father would give Culverton Smith and Reuben Gruner a run for their money, Sherlock," Mycroft said. "Any father who would seek to have his own children murdered…" He shook his head, and Lestrade took a deep breath.
"It's no wonder John and Harriet both have issues," Lestrade said, his face sombre. "John and Harriet should have been able to depend on their father, respect him, lean on him, turn to him whenever they needed him. Instead, they were stuck with a violent alcoholic, sociopathic father who hated them and wanted them dead, and who abandoned them whenever their mother had to be hospitalized. And they were also stuck with a mother who, too often, wasn't there for them when they needed her. As evil as Gruner is, at least John and Harry don't have to deal with the fact that he is their own father on top of everything else. But Hamish Watson, on the other hand…" His voice trailed off, and he shook his head. Finally, looking from Sherlock to Mycroft, Lestrade added, "Well, this certainly explains a lot. The anger that John's always sought to suppress and that sometimes overwhelms him, his trust issues, his difficulties with asking for and accepting help, his deep reluctance to express emotions. As far as I'm concerned, he deserves a medal for living with that man and still managing to develop so many fine qualities as a human being." Mycroft and Sherlock nodded agreement.
"We've got to tell our parents, Sherlock," Mycroft said.
"Not until John's gone to bed, and just the basics, perhaps," Sherlock said. "I don't want to tell John about the note yet, and I don't want to release any information prematurely, before I've completed my analysis."
"No, that would be unwise," Mycroft agreed. "We will ask Mummy and Father to remain at the flat till John and Rosie are in bed." Whipping out his mobile phone, he rang his mother's mobile number.
XXXXXXX
"I'm glad you haven't left yet," Sherlock told his parents, Mycroft, and Mrs. Hudson that night, after John had gone to bed upstairs. Mrs. Hudson had asked him to keep her posted, and John had consented. "When we went to Chelmsford today, I came across this in one of the boxes stored in Harry's attic. It turns out she never bothered to unpack them when she took them to her new home after selling her parents' house, so she never saw this. I am going to study it for clues tonight, but I will have to return it to Lestrade in the morning, when he stops by." He put a pair of latex gloves on, handed another pair to his mother, and then held the note out. "I do not want John to see it. Not now, and not at all, if it can be avoided. That's why we asked you to stay so late. The note will make the reasons for my concern clear. I've already analysed the handwriting, so I've got to return it to Lestrade tomorrow, and give him my findings."
Mellie took the note and unfolded it. As Mycroft, Siger, and Mrs. Hudson all looked over her shoulder, she silently read it, horror etching her expressive face as she did so. When she handed it back to Sherlock, intense pain filled her eyes and those of her husband's. A mixture of horror and intense anger welled up in Mrs. Hudson's eyes.
"Poor John! Poor Harriet!" Mellie said, looking at Siger. "Those poor children!"
Siger shook his head violently and began pacing. "How could a parent—any parent—seek to do such a thing?!" he said, making a valiant effort to keep his voice low so that John wouldn't overhear him from upstairs. "What we've already learned of John and Harriet's parents is bad enough. But to learn that their own father actually plotted to have them murdered—!" He clenched and unclenched his fists and shook his head again, repeatedly. It was clear to Sherlock that his normally even-tempered father was making a valiant effort to maintain control of his temper. "What kind of a monster was he, anyway?!"
At last, taking a slow, deep breath, Siger turned back toward his wife, and then faced Sherlock. "You did the right thing in not showing it to John, Sherlock. I agree that this is something he and his sister do not need to know. Not yet, anyway, and preferably never, although it may not be possible to keep them in the dark permanently as this case progresses."
Mycroft nodded agreement. "I fear that you're right about that, Father. At some point, he and Miss Watson will find out."
Mellie sighed, and then nodded agreement. "John will need all our support when that happens. For now, let's agree to say nothing about it when John is in earshot."
"I agree." Tears welled up in Mrs. Hudson's eyes. "Poor John! How awful this is going to be for him when he does find out. Harry, too."
"I agree." Sherlock shook his head. "And that's honestly not the worst of it. Outside Gruner's house, in the crawl space, we found what appear to be several murder weapons, and several sets of human remains. Forensics has already taken them to the morgue for identification."
An expression of horror etched Mellie's face. Sherlock held out his hand, and his mother handed him the note. "I've got to do a wide variety of tests on this note, Mummy, to see what clues I can find in it. I shall have to turn it over to Lestrade when they're completed, since it's evidence."
"That's right," Siger agreed. "We'd better go, Mellie, so Sherlock can get to work. This is something he can only do while John's asleep."
"Yes, it is," Mellie said. "You get some sleep yourself, Sherlock, when you're done! Don't you go staying up all night. You'll be no good to John if you're too exhausted to work on this case." She kissed him on the cheek, and she and Siger left.
"I'll make you a cup of tea, Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson said. "Your mum's right. You need to sleep at some point, so you'll be fresh to go back to the case tomorrow." She left the flat, and Sherlock sat down at his desk, spreading the note on its surface.
3