Oh Brother.

John was awakened at 9 o clock sharp the next day by the doorbell ringing loudly. A moment later, light footsteps passed his door and down the stairs to the front door.

When he had woken up slightly more and dressed himself, he followed the stairs down into the hallway and listened for voices; there was an unfamiliar laugh from the drawing room. When he entered the room there was a kind-faced man sat opposite Charlotte on the sofa, she herself was curled up in the armchair. They both turned as John came through the door.

“John. Did I wake you?” Charlotte said, straightening up slightly.

“No, you’re fine. It was the doorbell.” He smiled at the man, who returned the favour.

“Ah, introductions How fun.” Charlotte said sarcastically, John smiled. “John, this is Fitzroy Simpson. Fitz, this is Dr John Watson. He’s a friend of Sherlock.” Fitzroy waved from his seat.

“Hello John. Sherlock mentioned you in his last email. Nice to meet you finally.” Charlotte frowned.

“He emails you?”

“Only when he wants something.” Fitzroy said with a smile, turning back to Charlotte.

“Where is the old man. Upstairs?”

“No, he went for a walk.” She pointed at the table. There was note lying unread on the table. “Which means of course he’s gone for a nosy around Tavistock.” John cocked his head at her, silently asking how she knew that without reading the note. She smiled.

“His coat and scarf are gone. Along with his creeping shoes.”

“Creeping shoes?”

“They’re leather and very supple. Strictly they’re riding boots. But he doesn’t ride, so he uses them for climbing things he shouldn’t be climbing.” She said simply. John shook his head.

“I’m going down to Mavistone later.” Fitzroy said. “Coming?”

“Sure. We go now?”

“Get dressed then yeah.”
“Mavistone?” John asked as Charlotte disappeared up the stairs. Fitzroy grinned.

“The stables. Rivals of Ross’ stables, on the other side of the moor. Silas Brown runs them. Charlotte doesn’t like him, but she doesn’t risk asking old Rossie if she can ride his horses. Brown doesn’t tend to care as long as she wears a helmet. Which she always forgets to put on of course.” He said this with a smile on his face. John pursed his lips in amusement. His own mind may not have been as quick as the Holmes mind, but it wasn’t hard to see this boy was in love with Charlotte. “Charlie doesn’t tend to fall anyway.”

“Charlie?”

“Sorry. Charlotte. Known her a long time, I forget she goes by Charlotte now.” He thought for a moment. “To be fair, everyone in Tavistock knows her by a different name. She does that deliberately I guess.” John smiled, he wondered slightly if he knew what she did, if anybody from her old life knew.

“What happened with them and Colonel Ross?” Fitzroy laughed.

“We used to paint his horses black with shoe polish. Took him a few years to figure out who it was, then he put up CCTV and we didn’t notice. Or rather, I didn’t notice. Sherlock and Charlie probably did and didn’t care. He went ballistic. Told all our parents. Mine went insane. Got grounded for four months, curfew, banned from games. The works. As far as I remember, Mr Holmes was away on business and their mum didn’t really care.”

“Did you know their Dad?”

“Vaguely; he wasn’t round much. I don’t think he really understood the two of them. He focused more on their older brother. He was something in the government I think. Before he died that is.”

“What happened?”

“No one really knows. The majority of Tavistock think Sherlock and Charlotte did it. They didn’t of course. I think they both regarded him the same he regarded them. Something to be wary of, but not much more than that.”

“Not much more than what?” Charlotte asked, coming through the door. This time dressed in riding gear.

“Your Dad.” John frowned, wondering why Fitzroy hadn’t lied. Fitzroy Simpson smiled faintly at John’s expression. “I learned a long time ago there’s no point in lying. They tend to figure it out anyway.”

“Hello Fitzroy.” Sherlock said, appearing in the doorway behind Charlotte. “It’s been a while.”

“Hey. You heard about Straker?” Charlotte looked back at Fitzroy and explained to Sherlock without looking.

“The trainer, he was found dead on the moor this morning. His wife found him. Head bashed in apparently. I was going to go look into it later. DI Teddy got the case.”

“Oh good. A reliable friend.” Sherlock said. “Have you told him of our assumptions yet?”

“Quite. And no, I have not had the chance as of yet. Do you want to do it? I’d much rather be anywhereelse.” She asked, obviously itching to leave.

“Sure. John, with me? Or going for a nosy about with them?” Fitzroy clapped a hand on John’s back and grinned.

“He can come with us Shirley. We’re going to Mavistone. He can meet old Silas.”

“Have you two been to see Colonel Ross yet?” Mycroft said, appearing in the door next to Sherlock. “He wanted to speak with you.”

“What?” Charlotte said in alarm. Mycroft smirked.

“He wanted to speak with you about the case. He seems to feel you are the best chance of getting his horse back. He is blasted excitable about the thing.”

“Him.” Charlotte said sharply.

“Excuse me?”

“Him. Not ‘the thing’. He is a horse. Not a television Mycroft.” She locked her gaze with Sherlock, then shrugged. “I say we go now, dear old Rossie won’t wait long before he comes and finds us.” She turned away thoughtful. “Maybe he’ll finally let me ride Lucifer.”

“Lucifer?” John asked, tentative.

“He’s a horse. Pride of Ross. And he won’t.” Fitzroy said. She shrugged.

“Still, we’d best go now.”

“And if you two both promise never to black them again, I suppose you can ride him.”

“I absolutely promise.” Charlotte said quickly to Colonel Ross, who had welcomed him and Charlotte wholeheartedly when they rang on his doorway. He had regarded Fitzroy warily and very nearly refused to acknowledge Sherlock. She smiled and disappeared through the side door to the stable and paddock they had spent the night. The dog barked a minute later as she reached the stable.

“Right. You.” He said, slightly less warmly to Sherlock. “Where’s my horse?” John smiled as Sherlock squirmed under the big man’s gaze.

“I haven’t quite got there yet, but I can tell you one thing. John Straker was not a man worthy of your trust.”

“How so?”

“The curious incident of the dog in the night time.” He said proudly, repeating Charlotte’s phrase from the day before. Colonel Ross’ confused expression just grew slightly. “That dog is the same dog who was here when we used to creep into your stables. He used to bark like mad until we started drugging him. We never got close to the horses without him barking. And it is by far loud enough to wake the whole house.” As if signalled, the dog barked again. It was indeed like the dog was in the room with them. “And he barks at any stranger who goes in that stable. Yes?”

“Yes. He’s a guard dog.”

“Exactly.” Sherlock started pacing as he explained. Fitzroy smiled at the floor. He had seen Sherlock do this many times before. “So if any stranger had gone within 10 feet of that stable last night, you would have known about it. The discovery of Straker’s body on the moor concludes at least that. He is also one of the only people who could have drugged your boy without suspicion. Though I’m not entirely clear on how that happened, the police lab results from the boy’s blood will clear it up.”

“Straker took Ned his dinner last night, normally the girl does it, but she was helping Cook clear up an accident in the kitchen.”

“Well then, it’s likely he put the drug in his food.”

“But he went home. Straker I mean. After dinner, he returned to his house.”

“What time?”

“Around 8 I would say.” Ross said, still slightly confused as to Sherlock’s train of thought.

“That would give him more than enough time to get back unnoticed and take the horse.”

“Straker took my horse?” Ross said, his voice growing slightly louder.

“Yes. Of that I am sure, how he comes to be dead I am not certain but I intend to visit the crime scene today. I have no doubt the horse is fine.”

“How can you be sure?” He said, calming a little.

“Because he would have been found if not. If the horse had been killed, you would have been informed by this point. If he was injured, he could not have gone far and would have been found.” Sherlock frowned. “It remains to be seen if the horse is still nearby.”

Ross took a minute to take in the information.

“Thank you Holmes, you have put my mind at rest.” There was a sound from outside. Police sirens. “Or maybe not.” Sherlock frowned, turning to look in the direction of the door. So they were all looking at the door when four police officers burst in.

“Fitzroy Simpson. We are arresting you on suspicion of the murder of John Straker. You have the right to remain silent.” As the senior police officer was saying these words, two officers moved across and handcuffed the man.

“What?!” Fitzroy asked. “How on earth can you possibly have come to that conclusion?!” Charlotte appeared in the doorway, with mud splattered up her legs like she had jumped 2 feet from a horse.

“Detective Inspector?” The man turned from reading Fitzroy his rights.

“Charlotte Holmes. Well well well. How are you?”

“Fine. Why are you arresting him?”

“His scarf was found in the hand of the murdered victim.”

“Which scarf? I only have one and I lost it last week.”

“Rubbish. Take him to the station, I’ll follow later. I’m guessing you two want to see the scene?” He addressed this to Sherlock and Charlotte. Who both replied in the affirmative before he had finished asking the question. He laughed. “Fine. Come one then.”