Getting Down To Details
"Pictures of the pieces of jewellery stolen." The Earl said, fanning the images out on the desk as John and Sherlock took their seats opposite.
Sherlock snatched them up, glancing through the pictures, all of his wife and daughter wearing the jewellery over the years. The items were ringed in red biro to distinguish them from the rest of baubles that adorned the women. He passed each to John after he had examined them.
"The diamond engagement ring was in Charlotte's bag downstairs at the reception, but the pearl necklace and earrings, and the gold bracelet were upstairs, in Minerva's jewellery box in our bedroom." The Earl continued explaining.
"So whoever stole the jewellery was at the party, not a separate break-in coinciding with the event." John suggested, glancing over at Sherlock for confirmation.
"Obviously. Who had access to the upper floors? Anyone staying in the guest rooms?" The detective asked.
"Only mine and Minerva's parents. And it was out of bounds to the rest of the guests."
"What about staff?" Sherlock fired off as soon as the Earl finished his sentence.
"I did have extra staff for the event, but upstairs was out of bounds for them also." The Earl answered "Only my regular staff would have been upstairs."
"So someone was where they shouldn't have been." Sherlock mused. "I presume the event was videoed? And there will be plenty of pictures too I imagine. I'll need them all." He held out a flash drive to the Earl, who took it with only a moment's hesitation, jiggling the mouse on his computer to wake it up.
"Of course. Though I have already been through the footage myself and found nothing of importance -"
"That's why I'm here." Sherlock cut him off. "You were looking for the theft; I'll be looking for the thief, and that is why I'll find them."
"You're certain you can catch the thief then?" The Earl asked, passing back the drive, filled with files.
"Of course. The question is whether I can recover the jewellery before they can sell it, if they haven't already." Sherlock pointed out "Not that I couldn't track it down if they have. But that would be tiresome."
"Well you can expect to be handsomely remunerated for your efforts, especially if you can recover the jewellery." The Earl promised.
"Thank you" John quickly replied, before Sherlock could dismiss the offer as he usually did.
"So I assume that's all." Sherlock declared, getting to his feet.
"If that's enough for you. Though you're welcome to have a look around, or question any of the staff if you need to." The Earl offered, also getting to his feet to shake Sherlock's hand.
"That won't be necessary." Sherlock assured him, noting that the Earl's handshake wasn't as firm as it had been years before.
"Well then. Give my regards to your Mother, and Mycroft of course." The Earl told him, as he walked them to the door. "Oh, and I heard you have a little one on the way. Congratulations. I imagine it won't be long before Charlotte has one of her own. Wouldn't it be nice if your children could play together, like you and the girls used too?"
"Well she's not pregnant yet, best not get ahead of ourselves." Sherlock replied, after a nudge from John reminding him to be tactful, or polite, or something like that.
The taxi that had bought them was long gone when they got outside, so Sherlock googled and dialled a local cab company as they made their way down the long, winding driveway. As he hung up the phone he noticed John glance at him and grin to himself, as he had done many times since their arrival. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Just say it, whatever you're smirking about."
"Nothing… just… Elsie, huh?" John smiled, curiosity and laughter barely contained. She had come back to see them off, giving Sherlock another hug and kiss on the cheek, before shaking John's hand.
"She was just an old playmate, John." Sherlock told him stiffly.
John snorted in disbelief. "More like childhood sweetheart, from what I could see."
"Hardly. Though she was clearly infatuated with me when we were younger, the feeling was never mutual, though I did enjoy her company as a friend."
"But you kissed her, before. Don't bother denying it, the way she went to kiss you when we arrived was far too familiar." John pointed out.
Sherlock sighed, knowing he had been caught out. "Once. The last time we visited, though we didn't know that at the time. It was an experiment. I wanted to understand what the big deal was with kissing, and I knew she would be a suitable and willing subject. And I wanted to see if I could manipulate her into giving me her sweeties."
John snorted again, letting the laughter bubble forth. Sherlock joined him in a small chuckle, seeing the humour in the situation looking back.
"And did you get them?" John asked through giggles.
"Only one." Sherlock smiled fondly.
"Okay… so what about the 'trinkets' her Dad accused you of nicking? Did you?"
"A silver letter-opener caught my fancy over the time I was there. The ring was practice for it." Sherlock smirked.
"I knew it." John laughed. "What else, he mentioned more than one?"
Sherlock shook his head, laughing too. "The other one wasn't me. I saw who it was though. One of the maids took a silver cigar lighter. She wasn't light fingered by nature, but she needed the money for something… a family problem I'm sure, though I was too young and didn't have enough information to deduce exactly what. I kept her secret though."
John smiled, but then wrinkled his brow. "You don't think-"
"No. She's not our jewel thief. She doesn't work at the house anymore. I could tell by his shelves." Sherlock waved the idea off.
"His shelves? How?" John asked incredulously.
"The dusting. When she used to clean in there she would stand on a chair to dust the top shelf, since she was too short to see it. Whoever cleans it now just reaches up blindly, leaving wavy lines in the dust." Sherlock explained "She was nearing retirement age when I used to visit, so it's no surprise she's gone now."
"Right. So –"
Whatever John was going to say next was cut off by two things: their taxi pulling up, and Sherlock's text tone. Sherlock pulled out his phone, giving the brief explanation of "Molly" as he got in the taxi, replying to his text and letting John give the driver instructions.
When are you coming home? X
Leaving now. X – SH
I'm craving pizza X
I'll pick you one up. 9" Pepperoni? X – SH
Make it a 12" Love you X
John looked over at Sherlock, smiling at his phone, and smiled himself, thinking whatever had been between Sherlock and Elsie in the past, there was only one girl for him now.