A little Christmas-present for you, my dears. Hope you like it and that you are having a wonderful time.

So, who is this mysterious visitor? Does our couple have to solve two mysteries now? Has it to do with the Saunderson-Case? Or is it something else all together that brings this mysterious person to Harriet's and Sherlock's door?

Well, as always, grab a cup of tea (or punch, considering the season), curl up on the sofa and (hopefully) enjoy.

Love

Nic

The Saunderson-Mystery – Part 3

Sherlock:

Leaving Harriet to rest I slipped out of the room and entered the sitting room to meet with the seemingly desperate man who had been waiting for me for many hours by now, expecting him to pace up and down the room impatiently. What surprised me, however, was that I, in fact, not heard him do so, though it was one of the usual symptoms of a man in dire need of my help. Odd! And yet there could be little doubt that he was such, as otherwise he surely would not have waited for such an amount of time.

To my quite considerable astonishment, I found my visitor sitting peacefully in front of the fireplace, his feet leisurely stretched out, a book, one of mine, of course, in his hands and a cup of tea by his side. Frowning I stepped up to him. Whether he had heard me enter or not was hard to determine, for though I had not been particularly quiet, the stranger did not move and all I could see still was the top of his head and a shock of grizzled hair.

I had almost reached him when a familiar voice addressed me: "Ah, Sherlock, there you are at last! You have taken your time, I have to say."

"Father?"

I stared at the last man on earth I had expected to find in my living room, but there was little doubt that there he was, at last turning around to smile at me with his usual twinkle to his grey eyes, looking like an older version of myself.

"Yes, is is merely me. I am sorry to disappoint you, my son, but I fear I have no new mystery for you to solve."

"Why would that be a disappointment?" I inquired, sitting down in the chair next to the one he occupied.

"I am well aware that I gave the impression of being one of your clients to your page and landlady," he replied with a wry grin. "And truth be told, that was exactly the impression I wanted to give."

"Yes, you played your part very well, I dare say, as they indeed told me there was a client waiting for me," I replied, wondering how the considerable family-resemblance we bore could have escaped even Tom, who normally was an unusually observant fellow. "But as a matter of fact, I am more than happy that it has turned out to be you instead. And it was quite a surprise, I have to say. I did not expect you for another two or three months."

"Ah, but I doubt you were quite as surprised as I was after reading your brother's last letter which had me coming hither straight away," he said, pulling out a rather crumpled sheet of paper and adjusting his glasses began to read, skipping to the passage in question.

"'It has been a while since I have seen Sherlock, but I have to say he looked really well last time I did and I am surprised to find that married life seemingly becomes him and am now only curious how long it will take for my little brother to make me an uncle. I am almost tempted to bet on it being fairly soon, what do you think? I wager you would like to be a grandfather, would you not? You always had a knack for dealing with children.

As confirmed a bachelor Sherlock has been, he now is just as devoted a husband as any man, and it suits him well. He is much less pale and not as erratic as he used to be and there is a calmness about him which shows that he is much more balanced than he once was.

You must be most curious to meet your daughter in law, must you not? I have to say, I am quite impressed with her. She is an exceptional woman and suits my brother in every respect. You will like her very much, I am sure. Imagine what surprise it was to see Sherlock wearing a wedding band! Well, but I am certain it could not have been any less of a surprise when he wrote to you about his much-changed circumstances.'"

"Well..." I stammered, flustered like a child caught with his hand in the cookie-jar.

With a raised eyebrow my father stared me down, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I see you are indeed wearing a wedding ring, so I take it your brother's information has been accurate?"

"Yes. Yes, it is. I am married. I got married last October, but since I knew you would arrive in England fairly soon I wanted to tell you in person rather than write to you. - And introduce Harriet to you on that occasion."

"Ah, so that is her name," Aldwin smiled.

"Yes. She is currently resting since she is not feeling very well at present." I explained, and a flicker of concern crossed his face so I quickly added. "But she will, of course, join us for dinner. You are staying, are you not?"

"I am too curious to meet her to decline such an invitation. If even Mycroft is impressed by her, she must be something."

"She is the most wonderful woman I have ever met, father. She is intelligent - a doctor, kind, loving, witty and so much more."

How could I put in words just how exceptional my wife really was? It was impossible. I dare say, even Shakespeare would have had his troubles in describing her and I certainly had.

"Oh dear, you have been hit hard by Amor's arrows, have you not?" he smirked, though the sparkle in his eyes had ever so much intensified.

"I think that is pretty obvious."

"Indeed it is, and I am happy to see you so happy, my boy. It was about time, anyway. So, how did you meet her? Was she one of your clients?"

He listened with interest to the tale I had to tell him and when he heard that she was little Cedric Stephrey's sister, though of course, he was little no longer, he began laughing till tear came to his eyes.

"What is so funny about it?" I asked bewildered.

"Oh, only that when, – do you remember when you had to stay at the Stephrey's as there had been a couple of cases of scarlet fever at the school in Langfield?"

I nodded, very faintly recalling that both Mycroft and I had to stay with some friends till all was deemed to be safe to return.

"When I picked you up, little Miss Stephrey, I think she must have been two or three at most at the time, was clinging to your leg, begging you to stay. Though I think it had more to do with her brother having just teased her while you had not. Anyway, you then bent down, patted her head and assured her that one day you would come back. Seems you have kept your promise."

"You are making this up!" I cried out with no little incredulity, though something at the back of my mind told me that there at least was some truth in what he had just told me.

Aldwin only grinned before carrying on: "So, my boy, what do you say, will your brother win his bet?"

For a moment I was confused as to what he was referring, till I remembered that my brother had written that he was sure that within the year he would be an uncle.

Blushing I replied: "Well... - yes. Yes, he would win his bet. As a matter of fact, had you not come here tonight, I would now be sitting at my desk, writing to you, for it would not have been fair on you to keep my family matters from you any longer. It was one thing to wait with informing you about my wife, which as said, I would have preferred to do in person, but there now has come up something which... - Well, come September, you will be a grandfather."

My father stared at me open-mouthed before he got up and pulled me into his arms with a strength that was quite remarkable considering his age.

xxx

Harriet:

I slept deeply and was only roused by a slight knock and the consequent entrance of my husband who gently woke me up.

"Hattie, dinner is almost ready and we have a visitor, my dear," he said quietly, a happy smile on his features.

"Who is it?" I inquire curiously, sleepily rubbing my eyes.

"My father."

Unsure whether I heard him right or not, I gaped at him and Sherlock's smile deepened considerably.

"I was just as surprised as you are now, my love. I thought him to be in Greece or Italy, but it seems Mycroft informed him about our marriage and that in turn had him change his plans."

"Well, that you were surprised I can easily imagine. His surprise must have been quite considerable as well," I replied, dressing myself quickly and pinning up my hair.

Admittedly I was quite nervous as to what would await me when I stepped into our sitting room but found to my surprise and relief, a man so much like my husband that almost instantly I relaxed.

Aldwin Holmes was only slightly smaller than his son, and not quite as lean, but their features were so similar, that I would have recognised him immediately for who he was. His grey eyes sparkled kindly behind their silver-framed glasses, which were the greatest difference between the men, aside from their age. He still wore his travelling clothes of a grey tweed suit, a slightly wrinkled shirt and a pair of sturdy boots, which showed that he had come here basically straight after his arrival in London. Smiling warmly he stretched out his hand to greet me.

"I am very happy to meet you – again, I should perhaps say, for Madam, for we have met before, though I dare doubt you remember me."

I indeed did not. I had been too little when my brother and Sherlock had been in school together and eventually, their ways had parted when after preparatory school they each changed to another – Cedric to Eaton and Sherlock to a more humble establishment near Oxford.

"I am very happy as well. I have heard much about you. - But not quite as much as I would have liked to hear." I smiled and made the man chuckle.

"Ah, it seems my son was reluctant to tell you how naughty he has been as a lad."

"I was not naughty, I was just... - curious."

"Which is actually true. Still, you did have a way getting yourself into trouble." Aldwin Holmes laughed, shaking his index as he must have done repeatedly to tell off his son. "Especially with Kitty. Do you remember the incident when she turned all brown and blotchy because you have managed to put walnut husks into the soap? I have to admit I still have not figured out how you actually managed to do it."

Looking decidedly sheepish it was obvious, that my husband did indeed remember.

"Oh, and then there was the time you set my shirt on fire." my father in law carried on good-naturedly, while Sherlock looked rather embarrassed, till at last he burst out laughing.

"Yes, but as you said back then I got rid of the stains. And then there was also the instance when I flooded the kitchen..."

"...and the cellar. Or when you managed to cover the kitchen floor with soapy water that had everybody end up on their backside."

"Oh dear!" I cried out, laughing, "It seems you had your hands full with him."

"You have no idea, my girl. But I think I should stop now, lest you get scared."

Aldwin Holmes looked at me pointedly and I understood, he knew about my condition. Subconsciously my hand slid down to rest on my stomach, though it was still perfectly flat, as was to be expected. At such an early stage hardly any woman even knew whether she was pregnant or not and I was well aware that I was the exception.

"Hm," I replied, "I am not easy to scare. But I would prefer to be prepared and it seems you have a lot to tell."

"Oh, yes!"

Dinner passed with great cheer, but eventually, the time came that everyone started to get tired and with some reluctance, Aldwin went to leave for his hotel.

"Father," I addressed him, as we had agreed to I should, "why don't you come and stay here? Or if this place is too crammed for you, we have a bit more space over at my house in Chiswick."

By this, he seemed quite surprised, but pleasantly so and eventually he did agree to this scheme.

"At least as long as I have found a place for myself. I am not meant for life in London, I dare say. I prefer the country. I long to see the Downs again – and it is not as if it is very far from here, is it?"

"So you plan to move back to Langfield?" Sherlock inquired, quite surprised.

"Perhaps. Langfield is as good a place as any, and after all, I have spent the happiest years of my life there. But any other village will do just as well."

For a moment my husband looked as if he wanted to say something in reply, but at last, he only shrugged his shoulders, and while for tonight his father would leave for his hotel, come next morning, he would move into our spare bedroom – or more precisely Dr Watson's old room.

xxx

"Have you found out something in regards to Gerald Saunderson's demise?" I asked Sherlock when we both got ready for bed.

"I have, but nothing conclusive. There is a mystery there, but I start to wonder what it is. The circumstances of his death are puzzling, there is no doubt about it, but so seems his life."

"How so?"

"I have to admit I cannot yet put a finger on what it is, but won't you agree that it is odd that none of his account-books contains anything?"

"You checked all his account books?"

"Well, there was not much to check. When I said they did not contain anything I meant it quite literally. They are all there, but nothing is written down in them. And in case you are wondering, I checked whether he might have used invisible ink or the like, but nothing. The pages were blank and from how the volumes looked I'd almost say they have not even been opened before they were put on the shelf where I found them."

I gaped at him open-mouthed and it took me a few instances till I could collect myself enough to say: "Yes, that is odd, indeed."

"Then there is this most bizarre way how he was found. It seems almost ritualistic, don't you think? And his housekeeper said that she is sure to have smelled frankincense when she stepped into the room upon the morning she found Saunderson."

"Which would tie in with the ritualistic character of the case, would it not?"

"Yes, it would," Sherlock said, before blowing out the candle and wrapping himself around me, as he always did, as if I would fall out of bed otherwise.

Snuggling into my husband I soon enough fell asleep in his loving embrace. How could I ever have slept comfortably without him by my side?