A Wife for Sherlock Holmes
Chapter 9 – Bloody Parties
Sherlock stepped into the common room. He was wearing his best dress jacket, a black bow tie, ironed slacks, and his polished dressed shoes. He felt like he was a pony going to some show as he waited looking at the clock.
John came down from his room in the most formal clothing Sherlock had ever seen him in. "Where on earth did you keep that?" It was clearly his dress military uniform, but had been ironed and his various awards were there.
John smiled a little. "I have had it sometime. Mari thought it would be fun for me to wear it."
"Hummm yes well at least one of us will look like we have some clout."
"What are you two carrying on about?" Mari asked as she emerged from the room she had removed her husband from a while before. She wore a dress of gray-blue fabric that was off her shoulders. Her swollen belly looked well enough in it. Her hair was in an up-do that neither man had ever seen before. She wore pearl earrings and a pearl necklace her husband had gotten for her for Christmas. On her wrist was the matching bracelet. She held her hand bag in her hand and smiled at them as both men stared at her. She had a small hair pin that also had a pearl on it in her hair to keep her bangs back in a styled way. Neither man could stop staring at her for a few moments.
She had been gone much of the afternoon at a salon and now they could see why. She blushed a little as her husband came to her and took her hand. He lifted it and twirled her around making the material move like water about her body. "Armani. Nice." He said smiling.
"Well you know, girl needs at least one good dress." She said.
"I think you have that covered." John said.
Mari chuckled. "And you haven't even met your date yet."
"Abigail couldn't make it." He said.
She smiled as the repaired door bell rang. "Abigail isn't whom I am referring." She smiled. The door opened to reveal a beautiful brunette who walked up the stairs, her dress of midnight blue following her. Unlike Mari, she wore pumps and she smiled at the group as she stood holding her purse and holding a clutch also.
"Genevie." Mari said coming to her and kissing her friend's cheek.
"Marion. So these are them?" She asked.
"American." Sherlock said. "Interesting."
"This would be Sherlock, I presume." Genevie said smiling at him warmly.
He dipped his head. "Indeed."
"And this is John." Mari said.
Genevie chuckled. "Oh he is more handsome than you made him out to be." She said. John's eyes widened as he looked about. "No you silly. Come now."
Mari smiled. "Genevie is a doctor studying to get her final practicum here. She has lived in Uganda. She is, as Sherlock mentioned, American, and she isn't vegetarian." She smiled at John sweetly.
Sherlock smiled. "Well we best be off."
"Indeed." Genevie said as she turned and walked down the stairs carefully. Sherlock waited a moment before following to make sure her long train was out of his way. Mari moved to go down the stairs and John leaned close and pressed a twenty dollar bill into her palm.
"I owe you." He murmured and then kissed her cheek. She grinned at him as they reached the stairs and put the money in her clutch. Sherlock looked at the pair of them bewildered. They walked out to the limo that Sherlock had ordered.
The ride was a pleasant one. Genevie and John were talking while Sherlock watched London go by as he held his wife's hand gently in his. He was dreading the time, but at the same time, her realized it could be fun. Maybe there would be some scandal he could sniff out while watching the people.
They arrived as flakes began to fall. The men ducked down, lifting the trains to the dressed to keep them out of the snow and slush. Sherlock walked beside his wife and she looked up at him. "Are you ready for this?"
"As ready as I can be." He muttered.
She smiled as they dropped off their coats and received ticket stubs for their items. Sherlock put them in his bill fold and then stepped back as John and Genevie come. Genevie removed her coat revealing the plunging neckline of her dress that hung nearly to her beautiful derrière. John took a deep breath and then offered her his arm after securing their own pair of tickets.
They walked up the stairs to the great ballroom of the building. Sherlock looked at the people about. More than he would have guessed, the number nearly one hundred or so. They were all in very smart clothing.
Mari went to the doorman who was guarding the top of the stairs. She offered the tickets to him. "Ah, Jeremy."
"Dr. Bayezid. A pleasure to see you."
She chuckled. "You as well."
Sherlock looked down at her. "Bayezid?" He asked. "You have not changed your name?"
"It is hyphenated, but most just keep my maiden name." She said.
He nodded. They did know her far longer. They walked in as Jeremy barked out to the crowd milling about looking at the artifacts and talking. "Doctor Marion Bayezid-Holmes and Mr. Sherlock Holmes."
People paused and turned at his name and Sherlock blinked and looked at his wife. She smiled and walked into the room with him watching her, his eyes narrowed.
"Captain Doctor John Watson and Doctor Genevie Arlington."
Sherlock reached out and took a champagne flute from a passing server. "I am surrounded by doctors."
"Most of the people in this room are doctors, have big pockets, or are on the social ladder."
"Ah." He said sipping the champagne as John and Genevie joined them.
"Can I fetch some punch, ladies?" John asked.
"I would love some, thank you." Mari said smiling.
"I would prefer something stronger." Genevie said.
"What?" John asked interested.
She opened her mouth to speak when Sherlock spoke without turning. "White Russian, extra cream." He said.
Mari smiled a little and Genevie looked at Sherlock who was watching everyone else. "Okay, how did you remotely get that?" She asked.
"You are female so you likely do not like a strong drink. You are an American who likes dairy." Sherlock said.
She stared at him and he turned his head to her. "You have a piece of cheese stuck in your hose." He said remembering when they had been walking in.
"Very good, Mr. Holmes." She said. She turned back to John. "He is right."
"Of course he is." John said rolling his eyes and moved to get the drinks.
Mari shook her head at her husband as Genevie pulled her to the side. "He does that a lot doesn't he."
"Yes." Mari nodded.
ZzZ
The night progressed and Mari had introduced her husband to nearly a dozen people, all of whom were her equals and here to support her. Sherlock was at least civil in his conversation with them before becoming distracted by various things.
Mari sat down in a chair and watched the people as she sipped her punch, glad to be off her feet for a moment.
"Resting? Good."
"Sherlock, you really need to stop sneaking up on people. Someone will die of heart failure." Mari said before turning a little to look up at him.
"I am concerned for your welfare." He said.
"While watching those two women from across the room." She said following his gaze.
"Those two have been throwing themselves at anyone who will pay them the least bit of attention. They are both from local papers. They have recorders tucked into their bras. Their dresses are cheap knock offs, their hair is too well done for the dress, and at least one of them used to be an addict."
She blinked. "Oh?"
"Track marks on her arms. Cocaine is likely. She is also quite pushy."
She nodded. "And the other?"
"Is a straight up bitch."
She snickered hearing that.
"What?"
"Nothing, my love, I am grateful for you being you."
"Ah, Mr. Holmes." An older man said coming forward. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."
Sherlock took his offered hand and looked him over and then his eyes lifted to his face. "A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Jefferies."
The man smiled and nodded. "He is good, Marion."
"Oh and he is just getting started, Raphael."
Raphael Jefferies was a man in his late sixties, but he looked still able in body and mind. He then looked over and saw a younger man in the crowd. "Oh I see you have someone in the audience who does not care for you, Marion."
She followed his gaze as did Sherlock. "Oh, Kam." She said.
Sherlock did not turn his head back. "Who is he?"
"He lost to your wife, Mr. Holmes. Her paper was far superior and her ethic is far stronger." Jefferies said. "This exhibit is from her countless hours gaining permissions and collecting traditions among the people."
"She never was in America when I knew her." Sherlock said.
"She did this work many years ago and her ties remain strong." He smiled a little. "Your wife has many talents and one of them is being a diplomat."
"Indeed." Sherlock said.
"Oh, hello, Dr. Jefferies, Marion, a pleasure to see you here tonight."
Marion turned fully to him, her hands at her sides, balled. "Kam." She said putting on an icy smile. "A pleasure as always."
"I wish I could return that. I came to see what you did with my money." He said.
"It was never yours to…" Jefferies started, but Marion lifted a hand.
"Save your breath. He isn't worth it." She said. "Kam, perhaps you should go see the exhibits and get a feel for how a real project can be done."
"Well, we can't all be in bed with directors now can we." Kam said icily.
"I do not think I like what you are insinuating." Mari said folding her arms. Kam looked at the swell and his eyes narrowed.
"My, my, you have gotten around. Does the father know or are you standing next to him?" He asked looking at Jefferies.
"Keep your voice down." Jefferies warned.
"What? Just because the little whore got her way?" Kam hissed.
"Kam you are drunk. Leave. Before we have you removed." Mari said.
"I will leave when I have what I want, Doctor Bayezid."
"And what is that?" Jefferies asked.
"My life back."
"Then I would suggest taking a class on people skills and manners, boy." Jefferies hissed.
Sherlock shifted and Kam seemed to notice he was there. "Oh and who might you be?"
Sherlock cocked his head looking at the young upstart. He was about his wife's age, perhaps younger. Sherlock looked the younger man. "Marion is correct, you are drunk. You really should leave."
"Touching. Marion you seem to have a flock of lovers to defend you."
Sherlock leaned forward. "Only one of note." He said, his eyes narrowing.
"Oh?"
"I would do some research next time you start to call a woman a whore." Sherlock's nostrils flared. "Since you are currently sleeping with one, I would be doubly careful and perhaps get yourself tested."
Kam smiled a little. "Charming. Where did you find him, Mari? Another fool you have played?"
Sherlock stepped closer. "Careful. I would hate to leave you a nasty stain on his marble."
"You and what army…"
Sherlock took a breath and lifted a hand, but Mari spoke. "Sherlock!" He looked at her. "He isn't worth it. He never has been."
Sherlock lifted his head and nodded. "Marion." He said. He looked at Kam. "My wife is not a whore, sir. Now kindly, leave."
"You are Sherlock Holmes!"
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "And you are a lesser mammal. Considering the IQ in this room I am wondering if I am giving you too much credit since you are so far below them." He said taking his wife's arm. "If you are staying here, we are leaving." He wrapped a protective arm about her and walked toward the tables. He nodded to her to sit. She did and exhaled deeply. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, thank you. You saved me from punching him."
"He deserved it. I would have let you if we weren't here. You need to keep your image." He smiled a little. "Shall I fetch you some punch?"
"Yes, thank you." She smiled.
He went to fetch it and spotted John holding a water. "Ah, John. And how are you doing?"
"Genevie is amazing."
"And why did you pay my wife?"
John chuckled. "A bet."
"On what?"
"If she could find me a girl I liked."
"I see." Sherlock said grabbing another flute and some more punch. "Where is your date?"
"She went over to the table with Mari."
"Ah good."
The pair walked back and found Mari was not there. Sherlock frowned. "Where did she go?"
"The bathroom." Genevie said looking up.
"The bathroom?" Sherlock arched an eyebrow. "Why do you Americans always use such silly words?" He asked lifting his mobile from his pocket. He opened it and texted.
Mari? Everything all right? SH
"Why? Washroom seems odd as does Loo." Genevie said.
"Your accent isn't like any I have heard." Sherlock continued. "Your breathing rate is slower here, you are used to higher than sea level." He looked at her. "And you have broken your leg some years ago. Healed fully, but you still have a slight shortening of your leg from it. Skiing?"
"Yes." Genevie said smiling. "When I was twelve." She smiled. "Well now, Mr. Holmes. You are very good. Where am I from?" She opened her bag and put on some lip gloss.
A moment later he looked down as his phone vibrated in Sherlock's hand. I am fine. I haven't even been gone five minutes, Sherlock.
You are taking longer than usual. SH
I am on my way back. It is a bit of a walk and I am carrying about ten extra pounds at the moment.
Fourteen. See you in a moment. SH
Shut-up, Sherlock.
Sherlock looked up and smiled. "I have not heard your accent which means you are not from the south or from New England. I would put you west of the Rockies, since you like skiing, that would make sense, but the way you say some words, "Water" and "Mirror" suggests inland." He looked her over. "Elevated. Central Idaho originally before moving more south."
"I was from Challis, Idaho and moved to Park City, Utah." She blinked. "That is amazing."
"And you were Mormon originally, now you are not." Sherlock continued.
She looked at him. "How do you know that?"
"In your bag, you have two cards from missionaries." He said. "One had, 'With love from your visiting teacher.'"
She blinked and looked in her bag and pulled it out. "From the last dance I went to…two years ago. I left when I went to Uganda and they would not support a woman going there for aid work. The Lutherans were far more open."
"And Uganda is where you contacted malaria, but you have not had a relapse in sometime." He said. "Overall you are a very impressive woman."
"I will take that as a compliment from you."
"Oh don't encourage him." Mari said coming up behind them. She dropped into a seat heavily and sighed closing her eyes a moment. She took her drink from Sherlock. "Sorry, the curse of having a child sitting on your bladder." She said.
"I completely understand, Mari." Genevie said.
Sherlock smiled as his wife rested for a time. She was looking weary and he leaned close to her. "Are you tired?"
"A little." She smiled patting his hand on her shoulder.
He smiled. "Just don't under do it."
"I won't."
She then was called to the front to give a speech. Taking a breath she walked to the front and looked out at the crowd. "Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen to this exhibit. I am so glad that I am finally able to bring a piece of that is across the ocean here. England has a rich history, but the native tribes of North America are still being understood. As anthropologists have learned to speak to elders, this has not only preserved history, but kept the traditions alive. These people are running out of voices and so it is time for those of us who appreciate history to allow them to have one. Please look about and enjoy the rich history as I have. Welcome to Warriors of the Plains: 200 years of Native North American honour and ritual."
The crowd clapped and she was helped off the stage as several people crowded about her.
Sherlock watched impressed. She knew how to work a crowd and watched her thank and speak to several people. It was nearing an hour on her feet and she was shifting on her feet a couple times. He took out his phone again.
Do I need to rescue you? SH
She smiled. "Excuse me, sir would you?" She smiled. "The owner of the items is asking how it is going."
"Oh course."
She took the phone out from the top of her dress as she turned. She smiled a little and looked up catching his eye. No, I am fine. Only a couple more hours. Then you will have to put me to bed.
How delightful. Can I see you in my pearls? SH
I am wearing them. They go well yes?
I meant only them. SH
Her eyes lifted and he quirked an eyebrow at her playfully. She took a deep breath and exhaled as he cheeks flamed. Behave, Mr. Holmes. We are in public.
So? I could steal you away to your office. No one would know. SH
She narrowed her eyes at him. If only John knew how much of a flirt you can be.
Don't tell him, for God's sake I need some of my cold-hearted reputation intact. SH
She shook her head. You are terrible. Good thing I love you.
"Dr. Bayezid." A man said coming up. "I wonder if I might have a word."
"Of course." She said allowing a man to lead her away.
ZzZ
Sherlock was sitting watching the people around him. John and Genevie were not far off speaking. He looked over and saw Mari and Dr. Jefferies speaking to a man who looked to be a Native American or at least how Sherlock imagined how they should look. Dressed in street clothing with his long hair in two braids down the side of his face, he spoke to him. He seemed relaxed. He then dipped his head and stepped to the side smiling. The ornaments in his hair. Sherlock wondered if he were Sioux, Blackfoot, or Cherokee. He had no idea the differences, but he was sure Mari could tell him.
Sherlock downed the rest of his champagne. He needed to rescue his wife. She had been on her feet for more than an hour again. Something that no doubt hurt. He had seen already her ankle swelling from it. He rose to his feet and then the lights went off.
Blinking in the sudden dark there were screams of surprise.
"We will get the lights on, one moment." Came a voice of authority over the din.
Sherlock moved, his eyes adapting to the lower light faster than most.
A shot rang out.
Sherlock froze trying to make out who was where. Women screamed and moved away from the noise.
Two more shots were heard and a dull thud like a melon dropping to the floor.
"Mari?" He barked.
He moved nearly tripping over someone's dress. The shots had come from the direction where Mari had been standing.
The lights came back on and he blinked in the sudden light before a blood curdling scream rang out near him. He looked at the woman who was pointing. He followed her finger as she covered her mouth in horror.
Sherlock moved toward the scene before him. He stopped, drawing short to prevent getting blood on his shoes. He took a breath looking at the scene, memorizing it nearly instantly.
Dr. Jefferies was dead, eyes wide, a gunshot in the middle of his forehead, on the floor in a ever growing pool of blood. Behind him, in the hollow between two displays was Marion, shaking, face, neck, and shoulders covered in bloody gore, eyes wide in horror, a small handgun, a Glock 26, was in her hand, aimed upwards as she stared up into space at a point ahead of her.
"Mari?" He asked looking at her. "Mari? Can you hear me?"
She remained as she was even as Genevie and John joined him.
John took a breath. "Ummmm. This is not good."
"No, no it isn't." Sherlock agreed without looking at him.
"Did you know she had a Glock?"
"No I didn't." Sherlock said squatting down looking at the scene before him.
John stepped forward and put his hands on the gun and pulled it from her hands. Her finger was thankfully off the trigger, to the side of it, but she started shaking rather badly. John flicked the safety on and then put it in his pocket as he looked her over.
"Marion?" He waved a hand before her face as he squatted by her.
About them there was chatter of the people looking on. Some were immobile, others were chattering, and others were calling for help. He cocked his head at her.
Her eyes remained fixed and her arm dropped limply to her side even as she shook. Clearly in shock she wasn't moving and would not respond to John's repeated questions. Genevie joined him and then looked back at Sherlock who was looking at the ground carefully.
"What is he doing? His wife is in shock?"
"Being Sherlock. Murder is always more important." John muttered as he looked her over searching for anything to get her to calm down and speak to them.
A single tear ran down her right cheek, but she had not made a sound.