Sherlock: The Nanny's Anomaly

Zella and Thomas

Upon entering the complex and traversing a long hallway they stumbled into a warm, friendly lobby, main desk and residence manager's office. There was an elevator across from the front double doors, to their left, and beside it the stairs to the upper levels. Another hallway led down to recreational rooms and services, where they could hear bustling.

"Can I help you two?" The voice of the Manager attracted them to the main desk, "Are you visitors of one of the residents?" She peered at them with gentle scrutiny.

"Ah, yes, we came to drop off Susanna Markwardt's bike and to pay a visit." John answered. The manager, whose nameplate revealed her to be Miss Zella Blackburn, nodded with immediate comprehension.

"I see. You must be her boss, Doctor Watson, and Sherlock Holmes." She tsked.

"Yes. Is Susanna in?"

Zella shook her head, "Sorry boys. She's been gone since five this morning. Had to take Barney in to the vet. Poor thing woke up seizing and vomiting something fierce. Then I think she said something about appointments."

"Her cat?"

"Oh yes. Barney Fife. He's her senior cat. Beautiful feline, despite his age. Been with her for- oh, about twelve years?" She spoke as she moved around the desk, straightening up papers and checking the computer.

"You've known Susanna for far longer than that, Miss Blackburn. In fact, you are intimately familiar with each other," Sherlock deduced, "Widowed though you've been seeing a man for tea every morning."

Zella's eyes widened, "Susanna said you can read people their life story without blinking."

"How long have you known Susanna?"

"Oh, ages, dear. I've known Susanna since she was five. I was the family nanny."

"What, seriously?"

"Pulling around the collar of her shirt and also traces of saliva. Consistent with holding a child of Rosie's age." Sherlock input again. The lobby fell quiet.

"So, uh, when do you think she'll be back?" John ventured. Zella shrugged.

"I don't know. Hopefully soon, though," She hummed, "Could I get you two some tea?"

Before either could reply, the sound of the main entrance doors flying open followed by animated voices and footsteps attracted their attention.

In came Susanna with a blanketed cat carrier in one hand, her cross body purse hanging off one shoulder and a large white plastic tote in the other hand. Following her was a man perhaps her age, wielding a smart phone likely with the camera active, "Thomas, not right now!" She protested, throwing up one arm almost playfully.

"Come on, Sue Ann, Ma's been pestering me about getting that photo of you sent to her!" Thomas, who towered over her, pouted.

"No, you just want me to model for you again," She mused, "And last time I did that, I didn't get a moment's peace for two months!"

"Hold on now, what's Thomas up to this time?" Zella called, causing the two newcomers to turn and face them.

"Zella, couldn't you persuade our dear Susanna to at least model one outfit for me?" Thomas almost whined, looking utterly defeated.

"Model?" John asked with surprise. Susanna, who seemed to realize then that Sherlock and John were there with Rosie, smiled and nudged Thomas.

"Well first of all this is Thomas Trowbridge, one of my older brothers. He's a designer and stylist here in the UK," Susanna inhaled, "And he's trying to get me to model his new line. Thomas, these are Sherlock Holmes, Doctor John Watson and his daughter Rosie. The famous detective duo."

Thomas stepped forward and offered his hand which John eagerly shook, "Good day, sir."

"Hello." Thomas offered his hand to Sherlock who gave a polite yet curt nod in response. Thomas returned to Susanna's side.

"I was wondering how long it would be before we met," Thomas mused as his mobile chimed. He lifted his wrist and looked at it, "And it seems Vickie is having issues back at the studio. I'd better go before the street is covered with fabric. See you." Susanna smiled.

"Run along then, Thomas." They kissed each other on the cheek and Thomas waved farewell to the rest of them and was gone.

"You model for your brother?" Sherlock hummed, hands behind his back.

"Every once in a while, when he's particularly insistent," Susanna walked towards the desk and lifted the carrier and tote to the countertop, "What brings you by Ainsworth Rise? Is there a case?"

"We just solved one. We spent this morning rounding up the ones who vandalized the cars and your bike. Lestrade is seeing to their charges. We came to return it." Sherlock answered. Her mouth fell open for a second but quickly zipped shut, as her rich blue eyes fixed on the detective.

"Thank you, Sherlock. That was very kind." She said with a light smile before heading to the postal room. John could have sworn he saw both her and Sherlock's eyes glint.

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