The Case Of The Missing Hand

Chapter Two

The streets rushed by as I stared out the cab window. What on earth possessed Mycroft to think I needed him. I could of solved this case without his interfering. 

"Stop sulking Sherlock," Joan said, turning to look at her, her face lit up in a smile. Of cause Watson was happy to hear of Mycroft's impending visit. I glared at her.

"I'm not sulking as you put it, I'm irritated. I don't need his help," I snapped, turning back to the window. 

"Yes, we all know your capable of solving it alone Sherlock. But that's not the point. Your in a new stage with your brother now, he wants to help, not because he doesn't think you can do it alone, but because he cares for you and would like to assist in anyway possible." 

I knew she was right, Mycroft may be an oaf, but he knew of my capability's. And we are as Watson put it, 'at a new stage'. Things were weird at the moment. Being estranged for so long, it was different to be in contact with each other.

"Just let him help Sherlock," Joan continued. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, my shoulders dropping.

"As you wish," I replied.

The cab pulled up outside the brownstone and as we walked to the front door I realized deep down, deep deep down, I was happy to hear of my brothers visit. Not that I would ever let anyone know that, or accept it really myself. 

The door was unlocked, typical Mycroft having a key to our home, and we walked inside. Stepping in, a wave of a delicious aroma flitted past us. He was cooking, how predictable, I rolled my eyes.

Watsons face beamed with happiness as we made our way to the kitchen. 

"Ahhh brother! Joan! So good to see you both, I thought we could catch up over some lunch," Mycroft stated, smiling at us from the kitchen.

"Mycroft! Its so good to see you to! How are you?" Joan asked, making her way over and hugging Mycroft. 

"I am well," Mycroft replied, smiling down at Joan. I rolled my eyes, what felt like for the 100th time today. 

"If your done making googley eyes at each other, there is a case to discuss. Mycroft how fitting that you think a lunch would be the perfect opportunity to discuss the murder of one of your employees," I said, rocking back on my feet. 

"We would be discussing it anyway, so why not over some delicious food," he replied, smirking.

"Its very nice of you, we would love to join you for lunch," Joan said, glaring at me. 

"In our kitchen," I said under my breath as I sat down at the table.

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"The case?" I said as I wiped my mouth. I cant believe we just wasted a good 20 minutes eating a bloody meal. Trust Mycroft to dawdle so much. He never had energy.

"Yes, Miss Cassandra Tate. I hired her about 4 months ago. She had a clean record, was never late to work, no complaint's about her. Its quiet shocking really, that anything like this would happen to the girl. Previous work was at a diner, also no complaints there. I cant say much for her private life, but she came off as an ordinary 21 year old woman," Mycroft said, taking a drink from his glass.

"So you flew all the way here to tell me, what, that she was a good worker?" I replied glaring at him. Oaf.

"No Sherlock, I flew out here so that I could be of assistance to your investigation. I can get you any records on the girl, her whole life's history if you wish."

"I think our best bet, like you said this morning Watson, is at this club," I said, pulling out the sketch from my pocket. It didn't look like much, but I would be able to track down the exact club this came from.