The Man With The Umbrella

- 53 -

Lestrade didn't want to say anything as he seemed to be in shock. The sound of Mycroft humming brought Greg back from himself. "I believe it to be the body of Amelia Watson's sir." He answered before ending the call with a serious tone.

Just as Mycroft heard the phone call beep it's end; Anthea came running in with Xavier and a few other agents standing in a line behind her. "Sir, it's your wife." She answered to her disruptive method of bursting into his office.

Needing nothing more, Mycroft straightened his line of pens on his desk to face the direction of a analogues clock-face, two, marking a possible time before standing up and calmly walking out with Anthea and Xavier walking either side of him to the underground car park...

***

"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock answered his phone whilst gazing to his spray-painted smiley faced wall. "Sherlock, it's Anderson. We need you to come to the alleyway at the back of Tate museum. There's been a murder." Anderson stated quickly with a sad tone.

"Well, why else would you need me? Of course there's been a murder." Sherlock flabbergasted out snidely. "Sherlock..." Anderson sighed out angrily. "Just come, quickly." He requested before hanging up.

Sherlock assumed the murder was of sentimental value to Anderson considering his shortness of breaths and wobble in tone but he wouldn't realise how wrong he was in his deduction.

"John! Murder, back of Tate museum." He called out quickly. "Mrs Hudson! John needs a babysitter!" He shouted out. He gave Martha Hudson a moment to appear before him but when she didn't, Sherlock assumed she was out shopping with Rosamund.

John appeared from the hallway of the bathroom, zipping his trousers back up and shaking his leg slightly from using the toilet. Nodding his head in mute communication that he heard his best friend he caught his thrown coat with ease and followed Sherlock out to call for a taxi.

The ride was oddly ominous which John would later reflect to as the calm before the storm. As Sherlock jumped out the cab to run over to the crime scene in the alleyway, John sighed and paid the cab driver his due.

On the opposite side of the alleyway, a black ambulance was parked up and a body was being zipped into a bag. The workers under Lestrade's orders couldn't of closed the cover quick enough because Sherlock already caught a glance of the pale-faced woman with perfect bone structure and blonde hair.

He saw Amelia.

Just as John was getting out of the cab, Sherlock flew back into the vehicle. "St Bart's." He pressed in a firm dubious voice. "Gee, that was quick." John threw for sarcasm as the car began moving. "John... My brother, Viola and yourself will need to identify a body." Sherlock commented gently.

John, by no means, was the smartest compared to others but in that moment he felt himself curl inwards at the hidden meaning behind it. He shook his head repeatedly. "No, please God no!" He pleaded helplessly whilst eyeing Sherlock from one small seat over.

***

Viola was the first to arrive at St Bartholomew's morgue and due to that fact alone, she sat in the hallway gazing to the doctors and nurses walking by.

She watched as Mycroft came plummeting through with an umbrella tightly wielded from the left side of the corridor before snapping her head to the right to see her uncle and Sherlock matching the same speed.