“Well?” Sherlock asked, walking into the lab. The mirror was lying on a bench in the centre room.
“A secret compartment,” Lestrade filled in. “With a note.”
A lab technician frowned at them over her glasses. “Indeed.”
Sherlock looked her over. Single. Good education. Fighting with her family. Pulling an ‘all-nighter’ as John would say. Also, not important. He looked at the mirror. It was on its back – gold side up. Fake gold, he reminded himself.
“The note?” Sherlock asked impatiently, holding out his hand. The woman frowned and handed it to him. Sherlock opened the folded paper and looked it over. It was an A4 sheet, thick like parchment. Written carefully in lipstick was once again a note for Maria.
Who am I? it read. Find me. XOXO Maria.
Sherlock scowled. Nothing. There was nothing there. Nothing he was not already doing. Find me. How? He let his hand slammed against the table, and then he leant against it, the note scrunching in his hand as he stared at the floor. Words and details floated around his head, but nothing of import. Nothing, how could there be nothing? No…there were things. A few details about her. Cocky, for one. Female…no, he shook his head. It could easily be someone else. Maria could just be feeding her information. Maria could still be an organisation. The woman on the phone could just be an operative. So what did he know? Even the overconfidence was thrown into doubt. So nothing. Maria was still as elusive as ever. He could see why Mycroft was confused by her. He paused. He still called Maria a her. That was interesting. A folly of his own human brain.
“Ah, Sherlock?” John asked, worried.
Sherlock realised he hadn’t talked over for a while. He straightened, and fixed his clothes.
“Yes, John?”
“You okay?”
Sherlock shot him a look. “Of course John.” He turned to Lestrade. “How did you find this?” he asked, indicating the note. “Why were you looking it over?”
Lestrade frowned. “Funny thing actually. We weren’t. We called in that other girl. You know, the other morgue attendant. While she was talking, she accidently knocked it over and well…” he splayed his hands. “The note fell out.”
Sherlock frowned. “The other girl.” He paused, closing his eyes. Molly had mentioned her.
‘Anna, the new girl, was saying how rare it was for someone to be exactly 180…’
“Anna. Odd, isn’t it?” Sherlock muttered to himself. “That she found two clues.”
Lestrade froze. “You don’t mean…”
“Where is she?”
“Back at the morgue.”
Sherlock turned quickly to the door.
“Come on John.”
YOU ARE READING
MARIA - A Sherlock Fanfic
FanfictionMARIA. All over the world, at various crime scenes, the name MARIA has been scrawled on the mirrors. And now she's moved on to London. Tuesday, Mycroft receives three photographs in the mail. Each have the word MARIA scrawled on them in lipstick. O...
