TSOF: Revelation

The Case

Anselma excitedly followed her boys into a Mr. Josef Dawn's apartment that had been ransacked. Sherlock had wanted to pass on the case but John had pointed out that Anselma could go with them without there being any danger. He happily took the case after that, much to Mr. Dawn's relief and Anselma's slight anger.

Sherlock immediately saw what had been stolen a second after entering the apartment. He spent the next ten minutes teasing John and asking if he had solved the case yet. John spent the next ten minutes cursing at Sherlock.

"Tell me John, have you spotted the obvious yet?"

"Fuck off, Sherlock."

"Come on. Open your eyes."

"Shut your damn mouth."

"I am slightly disappointed in your skills of observation."

"I am slightly inclined to punch your face in. Bloody bugger."

"I am giving you two more minutes before I give up all hope in your intellect, Doctor."

"Oh bug off you bastard."

It was silent for a moment.

"Give me ten more minutes."

"You've already had eight."

Anselma's laughter cut through their frustrated silence and broke their staring contest. John glanced at her before turning back to glare at the consulting detective. Sherlock locked eyes with her and didn't look away. "And you Anselma," he said moving towards her where she leaned beside the door. "Can you tell me what was taken?" Anselma grinned. "His will." She said simply. Sherlock's lips twitched slightly as he straightened to his full height and looked down at her. "What makes you think that?" He drawled.

Anselma sighed before straightening to answer properly. "The portrait of his deceased son." She gestured to the picture directly across from the front door. "It's slightly tilted to left. Mr. Dawn's wouldn't allow that since it is a portrait of his favorite child." John spun around to see what she was talking about. "Plus there is a piece of thread from the theif's glove stuck on the end of the frame from where they moved the picture to get access to the safe. It's pink, a sign the thief is female. Most likely the daughter that Mr. Dawn's is ashamed of. As seen by the lack of pictures of her. She is my main suspect because whoever took the will knew the combination. Although it wouldn't be hard to guess it's her dead brother's birthday. She is most likely angry that after her brother's death Mr. Dawn's changed his will so that all he had be left to charity. Instead of to her, the sole heir."

Sherlock nodded and pursed his lips. "What makes you think that Mr. Dawn's has a daughter?" Anselma gave him a look and started when she realized he was genuinely asking and had no clue about the daughter. "Back at the apartment he opened his wallet to give you his card. I saw a picture of him with two kids. A boy and girl. They were twins." She grinned smugly. "Honestly Sherlock, I'm shocked you didn't notice."

John smiled brightly at her when Sherlock scowled and stormed from the apartment. "Brilliant Anselma." He praised before following his flatmate. Anselma laughed and made to follow but a creak behind her drew her attention. Before she could turn, however, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and a rag was forced over her mouth. Anselma began to struggle all the while cursing the fact that they hadn't searched the rest of the apartment to see if anyone was still inside. The strong scent of chloroform assaulted her nose and she struggled even harder. But it was no use, she was already weakening and dark spots were blocking her vision. Her last thought before she passed out was that she hoped Sherlock and John were safe.
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Anselma woke up alone in a room, laying on a large bed. The wall next to her was covered in windows that went from the ceiling to the floor. The sun was bathing the room and blinded her when she opened her eyes. Cursing she raised a hand to block the light and looked around. The room was huge. It was the size of half a football field. The bed could fit nearly ten people and a towering wardrobe sat directly across from the bed. A long dresser next to it. On the wall across from the windows were two doors. One for the closet and one for the restroom Anselma guessed. She sat up and groaned as her stomach turned and her vision wavered. Because of course she would get those side effects from the chloroform. She groaned and clutched her stomach only to leap to her feet when the door began to open. She was surprised by the face that greeted her. The older man with greying and fading hair smiled creepily at her while he took off his spectacles and wiped them off with a lense wipe.

"Hello, Ms. Anselma." He greeted politely. "I hope you are well." Anselma glared at him. "What do you want?" She hissed. The man grinned. "I noticed you seem close to Mr. Holmes. He is becoming a little bit of a problem for me and I need an advantage against him. You are that advantage." Anselma narrowed her eyes before laughing. "Oh," she said while wiping away her tears of mirth. "You have no idea how badly you've fucked up, do you?" She grinned. "Mr. Charles Augustus Magnussen."