Chapter 4 - "I Loath Bankers..."

New York Police Department Precinct, Manhattan NY 1:54pm

Now standing against the back wall of the interrogation room, Sherlock and Watson towered over Mary Gardner as she stared ahead nervously at them, Gregson and Bell who were seated in front of her.

"I told you I was home at the time of Rebecca Thomas' murder, I told you I didn't even know my husband had been bailed out of jail, and I told you that he was probably having an affair with Jane Thomas before he had even been arrested. What more could you possibly want from me?" She raised an eyebrow, her voice beginning to waver.

"Ah yes where to start..." Sherlock glanced to the ceiling as if he didn't already know. "When did you decide to change your fragrance Mrs. Gardner?" he queried.

"I beg your pardon?" Mary seemed offended.

"When did you change your fragrance? Your perfume? Your scent Mrs. Gardner! When did you change it?" Sherlock demanded.

"I, I haven't changed it in years!" She proclaimed, hesitating in the slightest.

"Yes, just as I predicted." Sherlock mumbled, not taking a word of it.

"And when did you give up on your husband and choose to seduce his only friend Mr. Jerry Rigley?" He pursed his lips, clearly starting to get annoyed.

"I didn't give up on my husband! He was the one who gave up on me! He ran off with Jane Thomas! He was the one having an affair!" By now Mrs. Gardner's forehead had begun to shine with the effort she was putting into her scheme.

"When are you going to stop lying to us, Mrs. Gardner?" Sherlock asked calmly. Immediately, Mrs. Gardner snorted, clearly amused by the idea.

"Well, I think it's only fair that if you won't talk, I will." Sherlock said.

"By all means, give it your best shot but I guarantee you that I'm innocent!"

Ignoring her statement, Sherlock began, "It was you, Mrs. Gardner, who lured Rigley to rob those banks and engrave the R's."

"Nonsense! That's absolute nonsense! I was at home the whole time. I already told you!"

"Ah, the same excuse we've all heard. With all due respect, Mrs. Gardner, please let me finish."

"Why? So you'll keep on framing me with nonsense-"

"Seems curious doesn't it?" Sherlock interrupted, "that you hadn't even visited your husband once during the time he was in jail? The least any wife could've done would've been to visit him, surely you know that. But you had other plans. You had been seeing Jerry Rigley long before you knew Jane and your husband were together."

"How do you know that? How do you know we weren't just friends going on affairs? Or that I saw him at all?"

"Are you forgetting there are security cameras? Would 'friends' be seen kissing in a diner booth at 10:56 PM on a Thursday evening?" Speechless, Mrs. Gardner turned a spectacular shade of red.

Sherlock continued, "however, the night you went out to get bottles of your Cherry Blossom perfume as shown on a receipt we managed to snag at your local convenience shop, you were on your way home when you spotted your husband with none other than Jane Thomas, flirting and kissing in an alleyway. Furious and jealous, you hid what you saw from your husband but ordered your so-called 'friend', Mr. Rigley, to kill Jane's daughter. He, of course, had fancied you way too much and listened to your every command to make you happy. As for the Cherry Blossom perfume, you knew the NYPD would be questioning a criminal's wife so you chose to change your scent and asked Rigley to put it on each time he went out. Of course, he didn't know why you had asked that, but he did it anyway to prove he was loyal to you. As well, out of your anger towards the Thomas family, you ordered him to engrave the R's as a sign. As for the stalking of Jane's daughter, I'm sure you know that your husband only did that to get close to Jane. Still jealous and hoping to get him falling for you again, you decided to win him over with money. Money Rigley had stolen for you. You ordered Rigley to kill Jane, the person he thought was with us at the time we investigated Citibank, however, it turned out to be your husband. After Rebecca was murdered, Jane had become frightened that her so called 'friend', Mr. Gardner, was the reason for it, so she broke up with him. Devastated and depressed, Richard killed Jane in her home, stole her clothing, created a mask and dressed up as Jane to frame her for bank robbery, knowing she would be a suspect. Odd, the room still smelt of your Cherry Blossom perfume. Though that didn't matter. Shortly after, Rigley shot him. Furious with Rigley, you broke up with him leaving him heartbroken and angry. Does that sound familiar, Mrs. Gardner?"

"You have no proof!"

Sherlock glanced at Watson and she finished things off. "We've spoken to Jerry Rigley and he 'spilled the beans' and told us everything. We managed to get hold of the perfume receipt under your name and security cameras have confirmed that Mr. Rigley was telling the truth. You will both be going to prison for robbery and murder."

Mary was exasperated, face still red, brow creased and eyes thick with fury as Gregson nodded towards them in thanks, handcuffed her and dragged her out of the room. It was a scene that closely resembled only hours before when the four detectives had first decided to go to the Gardner's home and question her. She had struggled against Gregson's hands at the time and begun to panic. She had nearly begged him to leave telling them, "There is no need to ask me any questions! I tell you I'm innocent!" Little did she know the more she said it the more it proved her guilt. Watson chuckled at the thought.

Dusk was falling over the Brownstone and Sherlock and Joan were celebrating another case closed their usual way, take out and freshly brewed tea while lounging in the parlor. The news was broadcasting softly in the background as they munched on their dinner. Frustrated and uninterested in the way the reporter explained the story they helped to solve, Sherlock finished his meal and quickly moved to turn it off.

"I loath bankers. They rig the roulette wheel of commerce, very nearly destroy the world economy and they still think if they wear suits they'll be treated as respectable folk instead of the crooks that they are." He muttered angrily.

Watson smirked; she had heard that one before. "Only now do I believe you."

Sherlock peaked up at her from his chair, as she headed into their kitchen carrying her empty take out box and drained mug. Then mindlessly she moved back into the parlor, the day's exhaustion suddenly hitting her.

She stepped in behind Sherlock's chair and watched him as he gazed silently into the floorboards, thinking over everything. "I'm going to bed early," she declared, "call if you need me." Shuffling to the stairs, she paused at the bottom. "Good night Sherlock."

Minutes later Watson laid her head on her pillow. Sinking into the sheets as her eyes fluttered closed. A hush surrounded her accompanied by darkness. Seconds away from slumber, the hush was broken as notes filled the air. Rich and confident notes of Sherlock's violin. The first notes she had heard in months.