THE BAKER STREET TRIO (SHERLOCK X READER)

Chapter 72: The Dancing Men

“DCI Dhani!” Y/N exclaimed. “This is a surprise.”

“Please, like i said before call me Dhan.” She insisted. “I’m sorry to ambush you like this, I didn’t know you were on holiday until I arrived.”

“Honeymoon.” Sherlock corrected, moving to stand behind Y/N like a great dark shadow.

Sherlock put his left hand on her shoulder, she reached up to cover it with her own. DCI Dhan’s eyes widened as she noticed the matching gold bands.

“Ah,” DCI Dhan took a step back. “Congratulations you two!.”

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled, slightly distracted by Blue bumping against her legs excitedly.

She reached down and scratched behind his ears, giving her puppy some much needed love.

“Why are you here in London, Inspector?” Sherlock asked.

“A case. I need your help.” She replied.

Sherlock’s expression remained stony. “We’re not taking cases at the moment.”

John stood up from his chair. “You might want to reconsider that, Sherlock. It’s an interesting one.”

Dhan sent John a grateful smile. Sherlock moved to his chair and sat down silently. Blue settled at his master’s feet. Sherlock moved his hand in a sweeping motion, gesturing for Dhan to continue. Y/N and John took their usual places, and Dhan settled in the client’s seat.

“Well, I’ve been reading a bit of John’s very well-written blog,” Dhan sent the doctor another smile, which John tentatively returned, “and I’ve noticed you’re a fan of odd cases, Mr. Holmes.”

“I’ve been told they’re a fan of me.” Sherlock said.

“Yes, well this one is certainly odd.” Dhan said. “An old friend of mine, Harry Cubitt, just got married to his lovely American wife Elsie. A few days before the wedding, it appeared that she was getting cold feet. She periodically assured him it wasn’t too late, that he could leave if he wanted. He loves her, of course, and insisted that he would do no such thing. A pity, honestly, I would have taken him if she didn’t want him.”

John choked slightly on his tea. Sherlock remained unfazed by the statement.

“Alright, John?” Y/N asked, inclining her head.

“Yes, perfectly.” John rasped, staring at Dhan with an expression Y/N couldn’t quite decipher.

“Anyway, neither Harry nor Elsie ran for the hills and the wedding went on as planned. They’d been living in a nice little house in Surrey in what I’m sure is wedded bliss for a few months. That is until last week.” Dhan continued. “Harry woke up one morning and went to sit by the window with his cup of tea and he noticed some very strange markings in chalk on the windowsill.”

“What sort of markings?” John asked, leaning forward in his chair.

“I’ll get to that shortly.” Dhan said. “Harry, being a bit thick, brushed the issue and the markings away. He told Elsie about them later, thinking they’d have a laugh about it, but she looked as if she’d seen a ghost. She asked him, if any more arrived, to show them to her. He asked her what was the matter, but she refused to say another word about it. Then this appeared in the mailbox two days ago.”

Dhan held out a scrap of paper. It had a line of stick figures across it, like a child’s drawing.

“Harry showed it to Elsie, who fell into a dead faint. Since then, Harry says she’s been in a daze, and very much not herself. Not knowing what else to do, he brought the case to me. While I hope it’s just the pranks of some local kids, the whole thing has Harry rattled. I can’t make anything of it, so I thought I’d bring it to you.” Dhan said.