Chapter 13
London Bridge is Falling Down
Greg Lestrade
One week later
"DI Lestrade, you bloody bastard!" Greg's head whipped around and Molly's snapped up from the table in the morgue where she was currently finishing up an autopsy. Greg stiffened as a blonde woman came charging at him looking ready to kill. "MIA!"
"Madame, calm down. Who are you and how did you get in here?" Greg said bracing for an altercation.
"Take a wild guess!" she dared. Her words were slurred and she was unsteady. Greg frowned looking her over. He didn't recognize this woman. Her shoulder length sandy blonde hair was flying everywhere. Her blue eyes burned with fury and her face was flushed red with anger and likely alcohol, he could smell it on her.
"Greg, do you know this woman?" Molly asked sounding quite angry herself. Greg shook his head in denial, but before he could get another word out the woman turned on Molly.
"You must be Dr. Hooper. Don't worry; Detective Lestrade and I aren't screwing. I don't swing that way. You've finally moved on from pining over the late great detective Sherlock Holmes, I see. Took what you could get, did you?" The woman spat with a sneer in Greg's direction. Molly frowned and pressed her lips tightly together and clenching her fists.
"Watch it, lady." Greg warned in a no nonsense tone stepping in front of Molly.
The woman seemed to deflate, her anger draining away. "Where were both of you when Johnny needed you?"
"You're John's sister, Harriet Watson." Greg confirmed. Molly's anger was suddenly replaced by horror.
"Johnny's MIA, presumed dead." She blurted out in a sorrowful voice. "You know that woman, Anthea, the one who works for the all powerful Mycroft Holmes. The same one, who refused to give me any information when Johnny was alive, had the nerve to call me to tell me that he was missing and presumed dead. I never got to talk to him and tell him I'm sorry and that I love him! You all took that from me!"
"Sherlock…Oh bollock's." Molly murmured softly causing Greg to frown in confusion.
"Sherlock's dead, Moll's, what does that have to do with John?" Greg asked his mind running through a few different scenarios.
"Nothing!" Molly blurted out, but Greg can tell that is much more than that. Her eyes drifted down and her cheeks flushed with shame. She's a terrible liar.
Before Greg can press her, Harriet interjected. "Whatever it is you know, you had better spill it or you'll be sorry. You're looking at a woman with nothing to lose."
Molly blanched and Greg snapped. "Don't threaten her!"
"Sherlock's alive." Molly whispered causing both Greg and Harriet's jaws to drop in shock.
"What! Impossible, he jumped off the roof at Bart's, no one could survive that." Greg exclaimed.
"I helped…fake his death. I supplied a body signed a fraudulent death certificate. I risked everything. It was killing me keeping it inside, but Mycroft said that the mission must come first." Molly rushed to explain. "Moriarty's reach was vast and Sherlock had to take the web apart."
"That bloody bastard! I'll kill him. I'll kill both of them, Sherlock and his brother. If it weren't for them, Johnny would be alive right now." Harriet seethed.
Greg didn't know what to think, but suddenly things made a hell of a lot more sense. Sherlock's suicide was a front and Mycroft had pulled strings in order to allow John to reenlist. The question was why had Mycroft done it? John certainly would have been safer in London and Sherlock would have been far less likely to be distracted from his mission knowing that John was safe. "I'm calling Mycroft." Greg said as he pulled out his phone before Molly could protest.
Much to Greg's surprise Mycroft not only answered but also addressed him by name. "Detective Inspector Lestrade, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Greg smirked for as polite as the words were the tone was glacial. Greg took a deep breath praying that he wouldn't live to regret this.
"Why? Why did you do it Mycroft? I grieved for him; John grieved for him! I know you'll try to justify it, the cloak and dagger rubbish. I can almost forgive you for that. John would have never stayed put knowing Sherlock was alive and working alone. He would have followed him to the ends of the earth, so I get that part. As much as I loathe it, I understand. What I truly don't understand is why you would allow John to reenlist?"
Silence, for a moment Greg didn't think that he was going to get an answer, but then Mycroft spoke in the same chilly tone. "I'll tell you the same thing that I told Sherlock. After the funeral, he was distraught, more than distraught, suicidal. I offered him a distraction from his grief and he took it. I did it to save him from himself. I did not wish him harm and hoped that he would live long enough for Sherlock to complete the mission and return. Unfortunately, Sherlock was too late." Greg swallowed and his eyes squeezed shut. He wanted to call Mycroft a lair. But deep down, he knew the man spoke the truth
"Does he know, Sherlock, that John is MIA?" Greg asked dreading the answer. Mycroft sighed.
"Yes, I told him today. He was not pleased. I fear that he may abandon the mission. I rarely regret my choices but fear that this time I made the wrong one." Mycroft admitted. Greg could only imagine how badly that conversation must have gone. He did not envy Mycroft.
"Anything I can do to help?" Greg asked. To his surprise, Mycroft offered a request.
"Keep your eyes and ears opened, Sherlock may surface in order to call in favors from a any number of his contacts. Watch your step, there is still one thread left in Moriarty's web left unaccounted for."
"Will do." Greg promised.