Prompt from W. Y. Traveller: Doll

"Mr Holmes, my doll is haunted."

The doll in question was a china doll, one of the ones given to young girls to practice becoming mothers. She had long dark curls, blue eyes with painted on lashes, and the childish beauty seen in, from my limited experience, only the best of dolls.

Her owner was clearly a man who believed in having the best in all areas. His coat was unobtrusively wealthy, and his shoes had the shine of being well looked-after. He was not, in himself, handsome, but his face had the flush of good food and good health, with the slight paunch to his stomach showing an affinity for the former. His was a face made to be merry, and the horror lurking in his eyes looked quite out of place.

Such a startling statement was still not enough to shake Holmes' equanimity. In a gesture, he bade the man sat down, then closed his eyes. Looking somewhat bemused, the man sat, beginning his story. "My name, Mr Holmes, is Dr Carson, and years ago, I had a daughter. Her mother died shortly after her birth, so it was just the two of us, and I adored her. I gave her everything she could ever want, and I admit in any other child she would have been quite spoiled, but my little Sara was an angel. She died…" Dr Carson paused for a moment, closing his eyes, before opening them and continuing, "She died from a fever when she was eight. Nothing I did could help her. That was three years ago."

Even now, years later, the grief of her death clearly still weighed heavily on him. I thought of my own Mary, and my heart went out to him. Nothing is worse for a doctor than the ones you cannot save, especially when they are your own loved ones.

I poured the man a tea, and pushed it towards him. After taking a sip, Dr Carson composed himself, continuing, "Recently, I married again, and now we are expecting another child. Since we announced the news, I have been seeing the doll all around the house. I had put her in the attic, so as not to be constantly reminded of my dear Sara, but it seems every time I look around, that doll is behind me. She has turned up in the drawing room, my billiards room, the kitchen, even our bedroom! I've asked my wife, but although she's seen the doll once or twice, she sees nothing remarkable in it. I must know why this is happening, Mr Holmes, and what I must do to stop it. All I want is for my Sara to rest in peace."

Holmes did not look at him, nor reply, and Dr Carson turned to me. I could not tell him if Holmes would take his case, but I did not wish to let the man go unaided. "From what you have said of your daughter, Dr Carson, I am sure she would not wish for revenge, but be happy that you are not alone. It is a gift to find love again."

Some of the weight left Dr Carson's shoulders. "Thank you, sir. No one could ever replace my first family, but I am grateful I have the chance to try again."

Holmes opened his eyes. "Dr Carson, we will take your case."