Chapter seven

Lestrade's request for an explanation was aimed at Sherlock who was ignoring him, sitting very still and staring at John with a mixture of puzzlement and intense interest. Lestrade could almost see his head tilted to one side and his ears pricked forward…

Dragging his attention back to Lestrade, Sherlock said shortly, "Well, I should have thought it was obvious but of course not to the lot you work with." His look dared Lestrade to contradict him but Lestrade patiently did not, so he continued, "You've got three murdered priests; each of whom received a threatening letter shortly before their deaths. The victims held the parishes of St. Joseph's, St. Agnes and St. Alphonsus. And by-the-way, a bishop at Westminster Cathedral is the most likely next victim unless your force can get themselves organised enough for once to prevent a crime."

"A bishop!? But Father Stansell at St. Patrick is the latest one to receive a threat−" Lestrade protested, only to be interrupted again, this time by Sherlock rolling his eyes impatiently ceiling ward.

Lestrade sighed heavily. "Yes, alright. On with it then…"

"The last threatening letter, as you point out, was received by Father Stansell of St. Patrick on the day that John went to see the Father. Father Stansell, however, is not at risk of being murdered. After analysing all the evidence I've concluded with certainty that his letter is a classic 'red-herring'."

Sherlock glanced at John and his tone softened. "It was the murderer who delivered the letter to St. Patrick. That much is true. John surprised him with his unexpectedly early visit that afternoon which led to the suspect making his first significant mistake and providing a very obvious clue to his identity, one that your less-than-stellar squad failed completely to pick up on, I add."

Lestrade folded his arms and waited, knowing that insults to his officers was the price to be paid for Sherlock's assistance with any case…

"The clue of course, is related to the letters that each of the victims received in the days previous to their murders but not in the obvious manner that one would think." Sherlock stopped suddenly and turned to John. "John? Perhaps you are tired and would like to rest? Lestrade can come back or I can go to the station later."

Lestrade, who had been concentrating his attention on Sherlock turned to John and saw immediately Sherlock's cause for concern. John's face was pale and his hands were beginning to tremble. He was obviously becoming upset.

"No. It's…it's alright. I want to hear, I want to know what you've learned, Sherlock because I have searched my memory over and over and I can't come up with anything. I wish I could…but I just didn't see anything."

Sherlock's voice and face were gentle again. "But John, what you told me was all I needed to know. Without your account, I would still be as much in the dark as before, we all would be. You are the one who helped solved the mystery, John."

"But how? I don't understand."

"It's a case of the dog that didn't bark. The letter was delivered to the church, that is certain; one of the ECAs who attended you picked it up from the floor of the foyer of the church and handed it to Father Stansell. But this is why your statement is so important. You said you saw nothing in the foyer when you arrived. You were even looking for paper, something to write on you said, so if the letter had been there, you would have seen it."

Sherlock's hand moved perceptibly closer to John's again as he continued. "After you were assaulted and pushed to the floor, you said you searched for your dropped mobile, again you would have found the letter had it been in the nave or the foyer but you saw nothing. My certain conclusion? There was nothing to find because the letter was not yet there."

Then, not caring that Lestrade was there to see, he reached for and held John's shaking hand in his own and asked again, "Please, John are you sure you want to hear…this?"

John held on to the hand offered him and nodded.

So Sherlock continued, although noticeably reluctantly now, "The only reasonable conclusion one can draw from this is that either one of the ambulance crew, Timothy the curate or Father Stansell himself brought the letter. I immediately ruled out the ECAs and the paramedics; the random nature of emergency call-outs makes the possibility that one of them is the murderer extremely low."

John's spoke, his voice shaking. "Father Stansell or Timothy did this? Took my son's life!?"

"I'm sorry John, I'm sorry."

John stared at Sherlock with a stricken expression, "Are you certain, Sherlock?" he whispered.

Sherlock nodded. Pained confusion was written on his face for it was the first time in his life that he had not enjoyed the reveal of a murderer. And never again would he experience the pure rush of victory, flowing through his veins like the drug it was for him, when he solved a case. The expression on John's face would be a memory that would ground him; forever temper his exhilaration with a sobering awareness of the pain and devastation that the criminals he pursued left in their wake.

Lestrade, watching this, rejoiced. At last, here was Sherlock recognising and connecting with something greater than himself and his own brilliant intellect. Lestrade looked at John again with interest. There was obviously more to this unassuming man than met the eye for him to have had such an impact on the inscrutable Sherlock Holmes.

"Talk to me about motive Sherlock," prompted Lestrade quietly.

"The motivation is ambition. Simple. The three priests murdered worked in large prestigious London parishes, quite different from St. Patrick (which was another reason that the letter to Father Stansell was such an important clue; it did not fit the pattern). The contents of the hate-letters, untruthful accusations and dramatic threats of revenge were nonsense, of course, meant to distract us from the real motivation−that of Father Stansell obtaining a significant promotion to a large and important parish. In that sense all of the letters were red herrings."

"'Of course', nonsense?" queried Lestrade, trying to keep up.

"Mmmm. Yes, a bit too obvious," said Sherlock, "I began to investigate what else all three victims might have had in common. In doing so I searched the names of all the applicants for Reverend positions in all three parishes for the past five years. Father Stansell's was one of about six names that appeared on all three lists. The other priests were easily eliminated as suspects (two have died of old age, one has retired to Switzerland and the other two now work in South Korea and Nigeria respectively), leaving only Father Stansell. His receiving the latest letter and John's account revealing how it was delivered were all I needed to reach a solid conclusion."

"But Sherlock, why risk delivering the letter with so many people around, why not just do it later?"

"I said the murderer was ambitious, I didn't say he was intelligent." Sherlock was scornful. "He had established a pattern of delivering the letters on a Wednesday afternoon, probably a poor attempt to make the murders look ritualistic in some way. So, when he failed to deliver the letter to St. Patrick as planned that day, he had to try again immediately or wait another week. And, it was imperative that someone other than Father Stansell find the letter, to witness it, so to speak. With the investigation intensifying, the murderer felt he couldn't afford to wait."

John spoke, "Sherlock, I…I…am feeling tired after all. I think I'll go upstairs now. Nice to meet you Greg. Please excuse me," he stood and turned away toward the stairs.

Sherlock half rose as if to follow him but John, turning back said, "It's alright Sherlock, I don't want to slow the investigation, for either of you; I want whoever did this to be arrested for everything that he has done."

So Sherlock sat again, but his earlier focus was noticeably absent.

"Does Harvey's murder have anything to do with these priest murders then, Sherlock?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock tried to force his attention back to Lestrade, saying, "Yes," but he glanced up the stairs anxiously after John once more before he continued, "Our murderer guessed it would be only a matter of time before John would remember that the letter hadn't been there when he was lying in the vestibule, especially once John was questioned by police as a witness. Not aware of the fractured nature of their relationship, the murderer assumed that the first person John would confide in would be Harvey. He therefore wants both John and Harvey silenced."

Sherlock's voice turned to pure ice, "Harvey was killed because he was very good at pretending that he was a close and loving husband to John; the man was 'hoist with his own petard'."

He added dismissively, "Harvey was a relatively easy target; he had personal security but not only was he in the midst of moving, yet again, and thus somewhat exposed, he wasn't expecting a threat from the direction it came."

His tone then turned from dismissive to deadly, "The murderer will not find John to be such an easy target."

Lestrade did not doubt this statement for a minute.

"The Father and the curate are lovers. I do not know if they are both involved in the murders or just one of them. We'll need to flush out whichever one it is or both. I'm sure you can think of something. Let me know, will you?"

With that, even before he had finished his sentence, Sherlock was out of his chair and half-way across the room toward the stairs in his haste to check on John.

Lestrade grinned and let himself out of the flat.