A Wife for Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 10 – The Murder of Innocence

"Mari!" John barked snapping his fingers.

Mari stared straight ahead as Genevie touched her arm. "We need to get her to lie down."

"Agreed."

"Why? She will be fine." Sherlock said above them. He squatted down and shook her a little even as Genevie moved and gasped in protest. Her eyes blinked and she whimpered pushing him away. "See." He said.

John muttered and shifted a little. He then lifted her up in his arms and carried her from the room with Genevie behind and Sherlock looking over the scene. John looked for a room with something for her to lie on as he moved.

Mari grabbed as his lapel trying to get his attention. "John…"

"Here Mari. You need to have a lie down. Calm your head."

"John…put…me…down…NOW!" She managed pushing away from him. He lost his grip and she dropped to the floor on her knees. She grunted and tried to scrambled away from them even as John reached for her. Her stomach heaved and everything came from her stomach violently as she barely held herself up.

Genevie sighed and John shook his head sadly as they waited for her to be done. The poor thing did not have much, but her body was in a sad state. She was covered in blood spatter, chipped bone, and brain material.

She then panted and curled up in a ball. John looked at her and then nodded to Genevie as they lifted her to her feet again and walked to a room. There was a couch there and John felt start to shiver. "Mari, sweetheart. Are you all right?"

She looked up at him and then looked away. Her eyes were still wild.

Genevie looked at John. "We may need to sedate her. She is in shock and it isn't good for the baby."

"I know." John said as he helped her lie down. She faced away from them and he elevated her legs, his hand going to her, trying in some regard to soothe her.

ZzZ

It was only a few minutes later when Sherlock came to the door. He had bypassed the vomit on the floor. He made a face, but realized from the red hair around it and a small bit of wispy gray-blue cloth that it had been from his wife. He shook his head.

He looked in at his wife, still covered in blood and gore, eyes open, but facing away from anything. Her finger was tracing the pattern on the couch.

"Marion?" He said. "I need to ask you some questions."

John looked up at him and shook his head. "I haven't gotten anything out of her since she threw up."

Sherlock grunted and walked to her and rolled her to him looking at her. She did not meet his gaze and was humming softly. His brow furrowed. "Mari?" He set her down, recoiling as she didn't even acknowledge him.

"Sherlock she is in shock. We need to get her home and showered. She needs rest." John said.

"But the murder of her friend. We need to solve it. No, she needs to tell me what happened!"

"Sherlock. You can't get her to just snap out of it. She has been traumatized. Doing anything of the sort could force her deeper into herself."

Sherlock hissed. "Psycho babble."

"She needs to be treated as a victim of a crime until her brain can for the lack of a better word, reset itself."

He grunted in annoyance and stood up. "Keep watch in her then." He muttered.

"Where are you going?" Genevie asked.

"To find out what happened. Clearly, she will not be any help for some time." He said looking back at his wife. He was gone just as he had come and Genevie looked at John who sighed.

"He is like that."

"But she is his wife. Doesn't he care for her welfare?"

"Naturally, but we are here and he can't stand to be bored."

"That is morbid finding a murder most interesting than his wife in shock."

"Well that is Sherlock Holmes for you."

"What does she see in him then? I mean he is very attractive, but seriously, this is cold even for what she told me of him."

"I have seen worse." John said.

ZzZ

The police arrived. The inspector looked about at the frightened people. "All right we need to start interviewing those here. Who is the victim?"

"Dr. Jefferies, head curator for the museum." A sergeant said. She looked about and sighed. "Apparently the murderer was taken elsewhere."

"She didn't kill him."

The inspector whirled. "And who are you?"

"Sherlock Holmes."

"And why should I believe you?"

"I was here, I am the only one panicked in the room, and she was behind him." Sherlock said.

"And?"

"The bullet came from the front of his skull to the back."

"But there were two shots and witnesses say she had a gun."

"Yes, a Glock 26. There were three shots and she fired twice. Blood spatter suggests she wounded the killer."

"Fast reaction. Where is she?"

"Being attended to." Sherlock said.

"What?"

"She five months gone with child and just witnessed the murderer of her mentor, what do you expect her to be doing?"

"Answering my questions."

"She won't give you much. She is in shock according to Dr. Watson."

"You don't believe him?"

"I am not sure what to believe, but she is up there covered in blood and brain matter from her mentor and hasn't said a word to any one, not even me."

The inspector nodded. "Get an ambulance team to the room." He said. He then looked at his sergeant. "Caution her and then have her seen. When they feel she can, bring her to the station."

"Pardon, she has done nothing wrong. She was trying to protect him."

"Or covering her tracks."

"She isn't like that."

"Oh?" The inspector asked turning to him. "So sure?"

"She is pregnant."

"You don't think pregnant women kill?"

"This one wouldn't. She was in the wrong place to kill him. However, she did wound the killer. Now if we can have everyone rounded up for questioning…"

"Who is in change here?"

"Where is Inspector Lestrade?"

"Elsewhere."

Sherlock made a face and watched him go into the crowd.

ZzZ

John rode with Mari as she was taken to hospital, her wrist in a handcuff. The sergeant was with them. Genevie remained behind to update Sherlock. John looked at Mari. He held her hand that did not have an IV put into it. Her eyes were open, but she seemed to be nearing sleep.

At the hospital she was photographed and then given a sedative to help her sleep after she became almost combative with the doctors. John remained with her, watching her. "Oh Marion. What are we going to do?"

ZzZ

Sherlock stood at the back of the gallery as the inspector stood speaking to the crowd. His arms were folded over his chest as he leaned against a table behind him. Genevie came and stood beside him. "What do we do now?"

"Wait for the moron to quit talking." He said nodding to the inspector.

They had removed the body, but left the blood stain and the spatter with the large void where Mari had been. He looked and sighed looking at the spatter pattern. "How could anyone think she did it? She was behind him, on her knees. The doctor was killed as an execution." Sherlock said. "Front to back. There were char marks on the wound. The man shot him with the gun pressed to his head."

Sherlock looked at the crowd and his eyes narrowed seeing Kam still there. He was looking about almost confused, in a daze even. Sherlock unfolded his arms and went to him. "Kam, isn't it."

"Sherlock Holmes." He greeted. "This must be a touch odd having to prove your wife innocent."

"Forensics will do that for me, but you…you might be the real killer." Sherlock looked at him looking for signs of spatter from the wound, or blood on his jacket. He then looked down at the younger man's hands. No gunshot residue. Sherlock took a deep breath. "My wife is not a killer. She lets spiders go free for heaven's sake."

"Jealousy?"

"Of what? She had your position." Sherlock said. "But you are correct this was driven by rage. An undercurrent of rage. It takes more brains and calculations than you have in your being to put a gun to a man's head and pull the trigger."

"Hang on, did you just call me stupid? I have a doctorate."

"Apparently they let anyone into programs these days." Sherlock said and turned around. He saw Genevie standing there looking at him. He walked to her and drew here away from the crowd. "It wasn't him. His clothing is free of residue."

"Then who was it?" She asked.

ZzZ

"Please state your name for the record please."

Marion sat in silence, watching the microphone. She was seated, wrapped in a blanket, watching the man. She had been allowed to shower and John had to remove her. Nurses dressed her in a hospital gown and scrub pants since her dress was needed for evidence. She was brought to the station by wheelchair. She did not resist even as she sat, hands cuffed before her.

"Fine. This is Doctor Marion Bayezid-Holmes seated at approximately half passed midnight." The inspector said looking at her. Beside him sat a female sergeant watching the woman as Mari seemed not to even see them.

John stood outside the room watching.

"John what are you doing here?"

"One of your boys is interrogating Mari." John said nodding. "Hello, by the way."

"What the hell for?" Greg Lestrade asked.

"They are accusing her of killing her mentor at the gallery."

"You can't be serious." Greg said.

John sighed and shook his head. "She was covered in gore. They think that is a sign of guilt. Anyone who knows about humans and bullets knows that means she got blow out from the exit wound."

Lestrade lifted the folder. "Says here she had a gun and it was fired, two rounds missing."

"Three shots. The kill shot and her two. I think she was protecting her mentor, not trying to kill him."

"Good theory, but how do we prove it?"

"We don't have to." Came a new voice.

Lestrade and John both turned. Mycroft Holmes was in a gray suit, red tie, and holding his umbrella. He held a folder in his hand. "John. Inspector. How are you?"

"Well." John said. "How did you know to…"

"You are to release her to my custody." Mycroft said lifting a form as he ignored the question.

Lestrade nodded. "I'll give Carmen the happy news." He smiled and went to the room.

John looked at Mycroft. "Seriously, how did you know? Did Sherlock…"

"No. Mari texted me." He said lifting his phone. Dear brother, help. I am being accused of something I didn't do. I can pretend I am in shock for a while longer, but eventually they will know. Affectionately, Sis.

"When the hell did she do that? I have been watching her."

"She is very clever. She used the weapon I gave her for protection for exactly that and she was sending texts while lying on her side humming softly." Mycroft smiled.

Inspector Carmen came out pushing passed Lestrade. "What the hell is the meaning of this? She is facing a murder inquiry."

"Not at this moment. She is a victim not a murderess. Fetch her for me, if you please."

"You have no authority…"

"I have all the authority I need to bring her with me and to put you back as a traffic officer." Mycroft said. "Do not threaten me, sir."

Lestrade watched him go back into the room in a huff and lift the woman to her feet. Mari's eyes remained down cast as she hummed softly, looking at her hands.

Mycroft took her arm and then nodded to Lestrade and John. "Coming?"

Lestrade blinked. "Me?"

"If you like." Mycroft called over his shoulder as John followed him.

"No I will stay here and…ummm…damage control." Lestrade said.

"Fair enough. Another time then." Mycroft said opening the door and walking his prisoner out of it. He walked down and gently helped her into the car. John got in first and then Mari who shifted making room for Mycroft.

Once inside and the driver driving away from the station, Mycroft lifted a key and Mari lifted her hands without looking. Once freed she rubbed her arms and then sighed looking at her brother-in-law. "My thanks, dear brother."

"As always I am just a call away." Mycroft smiled.

"Wait…how did you fake the sluggish heartbeat, the retreating into your mind, the pale color…" John asked.

"I wasn't faking it to start. I was in shock, but after I threw up, I felt better. However, I needed to buy time." She said. "So I went to my mind palace."

"Oh dear lord, he taught you that?"

"Of course." Mycroft said. "And I have worked with her also, however, I taught him so…"

"But what was she looking for?"

"A calm place to calm her heart rate and be unfocused."

"But you texted Mycroft."

"The two hours I was faking it." She said.

He shook his head. "Wow."

Mycroft smiled. "I brought you some street clothes."

"Thanks." She said and she began to change.

John was startled and turned as she wiggled of the scrubs and into the jeans. She then pulled off the gown revealing she was wearing a strapless bra. She pulled on the pullover and pushed back the hood. She smiled at the pair as Mycroft regarded her. John was amazed how quickly she had managed that and blinked at the clothing on the floor.

"Do you have anything on you to tie my hair back?" She asked.

He sighed and reached into his pocket lifting a scrunched up ring of elastic. "Yes."

She grinned. "Thank you."

John looked over. "How on earth would you know to have that?"

"She had very long hair." Mycroft said watching her pull it all back and then wrapped it in a bun and used the elastic to hold it. "Seems clear she would need one."

"Amazing." John said.

Mycroft looked at his sister-in-law who looked like any freshman on any campus. She had taken about fifteen years off her doing that. She blinked at him.

"What?" She asked.

"You look like a college student."

"I am not that young."

"You turn thirty soon enough, my dear sister. That makes you fourteen years younger than I."

She smiled. "I do love you Mycroft. Thank you." She said leaning up and kissing his cheek.

He smiled at her. "Anything for family, sister."

ZzZ

Sherlock sighed and jumped up on a table. "Okay I want to do a little experiment."

"Mr. Holmes. Get down. This is my investigation."

"Three minutes. It is all I need."

"Very well. But after that…I am going to take you and question you about your wife."

"That won't be necessary, Inspector." Mycroft's voice said entering the room. With him was Mari and John.

Genevie went to her friend and they stood together.

Sherlock nodded. "All right then. Who heard the shots? Raise your hand." He nodded. "Now keep that one up. "Now who heard three shots?" He said. "Go on lift the second hand." He looked about the room. "Good thank you."

He jumped down and walked toward a young man who was smartly dressed, watching. "You didn't raise your hand, but you were clearly here."

"It is all a blur."

"Really?" Sherlock asked. He lifted his hand. "And the gun residue on your hands is from…"

"I was cleaning my guns before I came here. I had been out hunting."

"Humm something about six feet tall?"

"What?" The man asked as Sherlock circled him like a wolf.

"You remember. You cut off the lights, then you came out here and ordered Dr. Bayezid to her knees and then Dr. Jefferies." Sherlock said. "You made him beg for his life before you ended it. You murdered him before Mari, to give her a warning. Why? Because you hate her. Rage. Deep rage."

"You can't prove it. It was dark. I was across the room. It could have been you…" He then gasped in pain as Sherlock reached up and pressed his fingers hard against his shoulder. The man cried out, dropping to his knees in pain.

"But you didn't count on her being armed. She shot you before you could murder her as well. What kind of man kills a woman carrying an innocent?"

"The kind who hates the face she works in the museum. We used to be a proud white institution. Then Dr. Jefferies hired her and Dr. Ruby." He made a face. "Damaged the reputation of this place having sound research."

"What?" Mari's voice barked.

"Mari." John said reaching for her as she stepped forward.

"Oh there is the bitch now." He said looking at her.

Sherlock lifted his hand away and the man took a shaky breath. He looked at the inspector. "I assume I made your case for you?" He said looking at the on lookers.

"Yes." The inspector nodded. "Caution him." He said.

Two officers went to the man and lifted him to his feet. They found his military grade handgun the back of his pants. They were getting ready to cuff him when he looked staring at Mari talking to Mycroft, John, and Genevie. He growled and threw the man down and charged drawing a knife.

Sherlock reacted, but was too slow. Genevie jumped before her friend as the man stabbed down, knocking her out of the way. Two shots rang out and everyone in the room gasped again. The man dropped dead, falling backwards, blood blooming over his heart as he landed on the marble, a startled look on his face.

Sherlock arrived and took in the scene. Mycroft was holding his duty weapon. Mari was on the floor looking up. She crawled to her friend as Genevie looked down at the knife in her chest. It was large and military grade, the handle sticking out from her. It had caught her square in the chest. She moved her mouth a little and John caught her. The blade had been turned and went between her ribs. By the placement it had cut her aorta.

She looked up at him, blood bubbling at her lips. "Sorry…about the date." She whispered.

"Hush..we will get you mended as good as new." John said pressing on the wound.

"I don't think so." She looked at Mari who looked at her, tears in her eyes. She touched her friend's cheek. "Sorry about the dress, Mari…So sorry…" She gasped and her head lolled back. John pressed his fingers to her neck and then took a breath. He shook his head.

Mycroft shook his head. "Well that is a shame."

Mari rose to her feet slowly. Mycroft reached out as did Sherlock and she shoved them both away.

"I'm fine…go away…" she said. She walked to the door only a few feet away and shook as she started to weep. The stress of the day was catching up to her.

Sherlock followed her with Mycroft. She knew they were there and said nothing as she looked out. Tears ran down her cheeks. "Why, Sherlock…why?"

"It was her time." He said simply. She stepped forward to protect you." He said.

"She survived Uganda. Only to die here and take a knife meant for me."

Sherlock cupped her chin. "Survivor's guilt has no place here. She was very brave. Don't spoil it."

"But…"

"No." he said his eyes flashing.

She looked down and panted a little. She took a couple breaths. "I think I may need to lie down…" She said and reached for her head. "So…wobbly…"

"Marion?" Sherlock asked and then caught her to him as she fell backward. He looked at her dreamy face and sighed. He shifted her, lifting her limp body in his arms. "Well I think we should head to hospital, don't you, brother?"

Mycroft looked at his brother. "Who was she?"

"A friend." Sherlock said. "A good friend." He said looking back at Genevie as John looked at her and closed her eyes. Police came forward and called for medical help, but John was shaking his head sadly.

"Clearly, but her name?" Mycroft asked.

"Genevie Arlington, MD." John said rising. He looked at her life blood on his hands and sighed. "American, orphan, world traveler, friend of Baker Street."

Sherlock nodded. "Yes."

Mycroft opened the door and Sherlock walked out holding his wife's body to him as she lay unconscious in his arms. Sherlock hopped into the ambulance that arrived. Mycroft joined him as they laid her down on the gurney.

"I am glad this bloody day is over with." Sherlock said.

"It is nearly dawn." Mycroft pointed out. "We will all need some sleep when this is over."

ZzZ

Marion closed her eyes as a cool breeze hit her back. Her tears cooled on her cheeks. She looked at the grave marker of her friend. The marker was marble and the freshly carved words made her heart ache. How she would have loved to have her stay in London, be with John, make them both happy…

Genevie Arlington

Daughter, Friend, Hero

Born: August 10 1978

Died: January 3 2011

We thank you for all you have done.

-The Holmes Family

She laid a white rose on the earth and sighed looking upwards. "I am sorry, Viv. So sorry."

"You didn't kill her." Sherlock's voice entered her thoughts. He stood behind her and to the side. He sighed. "How often are you planning on visiting her?" He asked as he shifted, his shoes breaking the snow crust with a crack.

"She had no family Sherlock. I have to…"

He nodded. "Sentiment that I do not fully understand."

"If I hadn't…" She took a shaky breath. "She was so happy here. London suited her. I wish she knew how much I wish I could thank her…for everything…"

She found herself looking at him as he hooked his finger under her shin. "Stop." He said. "She saved your life. She is a hero in my book." He said.

"She had no family, Sherlock. Her parents were dead. She wanted to help babies because she could not have them." She took a shaky breath.

He stepped behind her and took her shoulders in his hands, caressing her softly. He had made sure when she had been knocked to the floor that she and the baby were well. She had had a very rough night and not slept for a day.

John gave her a sedative and she slept like a baby for nearly a day and a half. Sherlock had made sure she was well. She had woken and they had gone to the funeral. Very few attended, but Sherlock made sure her expenses were covered. Mycroft saw to the other details.

"Poor John." She said.

"What?"

"He finally has a girl he liked."

He sighed and kissed her hair. "We will remember her, my love." He whispered.

"I will. You hardly knew her."

"True." He said. "But I will remember her sacrifice every day when this comes into the world." He said, his hand dropping to her belly. The girl within kicked him and he smiled a little and sighed. "See. She agrees."

"She was such a good person."

"No one deserves to be murdered, Mari." He sighed. "She was a good person, a wonderful doctor, and a beautiful one at that." He pressed his hand closer and leaned his head down. "I was thinking Genevie might be a nice middle name if you…"

Her breath caught. She turned in his arms. He was serious.

"You…you would do that?"

"She saved my child and my wife. Seems fitting, don't you?"

She opened her mouth and then shook her head, smiling in spite of her tears. She kissed him deeply. "I do love you, Mr. Holmes."

"I know." He smiled.

They walked back to the car, hand in hand talking.

In the trees someone stood, taking pictures of the pair together. They got into their car and drove away.