They followed Janet's sister to the small pub where John had met with the soldiers. Mary hugged Scott goodbye and then Joined Lestrade and Sherlock at a table.
"So what do we do now?" Lestrade asked.
"We could interview the staff, but they may not be the same ones who were here this morning."
Mary stared at the menu. "He will have ordered the full English breakfast with a coffee."
"Which is totally irrelevant if we continues to pay in cash." Sherlock said pulling out his phone. He clicked on the button and then sat up tall. "Finally, a lead!"
"What?"
"Harry Watson made a purchase on her card."
"Where?" Lestrade asked.
"Cosham. Come now the race is on."

Ten minutes later...
"Why on Earth are you stopping, Lestrade! They're in our grasp."
"The car won't run without petrol. Besides, that purchase was made six hours ago, and this will only take a few minutes." Lestrade walked into station.
"I think...I'm not sure, but I think that there may be a military hospital in Cosham. I remember John saying so."
"Then why didn't you mention it before? We could have gone there hours ago instead of wasting time in that bar."
"I didn't think it was important."
"You didn't think that it was important? Why do you think we're here? To sightsee? I'll ask Lestrade to make a few laps around Spinnaker tower, shall I?"
"Don't act like ..."
"A child? If anyone is acting like a child here, it is you."
"What do you mean?"
"Your entire relationship with John is childish. It is simply you, desperately seeking the approval of an absent father. Even your first husband, how did you describe him, tall, strong, clever. Are these not how a child might describe their father? You were an only child. Your mother must have been dead or absent, why else did he have to send you to boarding school? You would have done everything for him, cooking cleaning. It was just the two of you for so long, but when you got older, he sent you away from him, and ever since then you have been trying to get that life back. First with Brad, and now with John. Why don't you grow up and learn to live for yourself?"
Mary turned toward him. "Sherlock, may I ask you a question?"
"What question?"
"Did you ever have a dog?"
"No, but Mummy kept horses."
"It's not the same thing. Dogs are loyal. They love their owners. They just ... love them. John used to have a little bulldog named Brave. He took him everywhere. Even got in trouble for trying to sneak him into school. He used to sleep on the foot of his bed. One day, he got hit by a car. John wanted to fix him, but he didn't know how. His mother brought the car around and they wrapped him up in a blanket so that they could take him to the pet hospital. He died before they got there.
"That night, the dog wasn't there to sleep with him. The hospital had disposed of the body. All that John had left was the blanket, so he tried to take the blanket to bed with him, but his mother wouldn't let him. It still had blood on it. She threw it out, but he dug it out of the bin and slept with it anyway.
"When she found out, his mother made him burn it. They put it in a metal drum and burned it out behind the building. His parents told him to come inside as soon as the fire burned out. Whenever it got low, he would hunt around for old wood and cardboard. He took boxes out of bins and pried shingles off of buildings, but he kept it burning all night. His sister asked for another dog, but by then his parents were already planning divorce. He told me that after his dog died, their flat no longer felt like home to him.
"John prides himself in his ability to stay anywhere. You've seen the flats he lives in. Bare things. He never bothers to decorate even. That's because no place was home to him, that is until he moved onto Baker Street with you. Two two one Baker street was his home, until the day you fell. You've taken his home away from him once. Don't you think that he deserves the chance to make a home of his own? To have a dog and a wife and maybe some children. A life on his own terms. Or do you plan to take that dream away from him too?"
"I'm going to go check on something." Sherlock said and he climbed out of the car.
The shop in the petrol station was small. Lestrade exited the bathroom and then stood in line to pay. "Something wrong, Sherlock?"
Sherlock shook his head and turned away. He distractedly picked up a small box of cake on a shelf. Then he jumped up in shock. "Lestrade, we have to go back to London right now!"
"What? Why?"
"I was wrong about that man in the department store. Father Christmas was murdered!"