Oh Brother.

The murdered trainer was lying in the mud, about the same distance from his house, his stable and the rival stable. John looked around him, from this point of the moor he could see most of the dwellings, Holmes Manor, Mavistone Stables, Ross’ stables and in the distance he could see Tavistock and it’s racecourse. He made a mental note that this was the only point on the moor that wasn’t near to anything. In fact, the only thing he could see within half a mile of the body was rock, grass and sheep.

“So this is John Straker.” The Detective Inspector commented. “Trainer fo-“ Charlotte waved him quiet.

“We already know Teddy.” The Inspector smiled.

“Don’t call me Teddy. My name is Theodore. Not that you should know that anyway. DI Scott.” She looked at him.

“I am never going to call you DI Scott.” The Inspector shook his head, smiling.

“Fine. Don’t call me anything then. Inspector is fine.”

“Okay Teddy.” She said, with a smile, bending down to look at the man’s head. It was covered in blood and bone. The worst thing about it was the look on his face; murderously scared.

“Carlie.”

“Yeah?”

“Stop it.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so. You shouldn’t strictly be here anyway. So do what I say.” She didn’t reply, just smiled and moved a little further away from the body. Sherlock was copying her almost exactly on the other side of the body. “They look a little like spiders.” The Inspector said to John, who smiled and nodded. “So you know old Rossie?”

“Not so much. I’m Sherlock’s roommate.” The Inspector looked a little taken aback, glancing John up and down.

“The army man?” John frowned, questioningly. “Sorry, it’s just; well, I imagined you taller.” Charlotte laughed slightly from her position. John glanced at her, he hadn’t realised she was listening.

“Yeah, well.” John said shortly. A little annoyed. “How did you know anyway?” The Inspector looked apologetic, then turned away.

“Well, Carlie keeps Fitz updated. And he keeps everyone in Tavistock updated. Everyone is very interested in the lives of the Holmes children. Of course we never get any information about Carlie herself.” He seemed to be saying this pointedly in Charlotte’s direction, who was point blank ignoring him. Or perhaps overly interested in the ground she was bent over.

Abruptly, she stood and moved to stand near the inspector.

“The horse was here.” She pointed on the floor, in the direction of Ross’ house. “He arrived with the horse. The horse bolted that way.” She moved her finger to point in the direction of Mavistone Stables. “It makes sense. He would know which buildings were stables by the smell. And the wind was blowing this way last night, so he would have followed his nose.”

“Maybe it does make sense, but the horse is not there. I searched the stable myself, checked each horse individually.” Charlotte frowned.

“I’ll follow the tracks. I suppose he must have diverted.”

“You’re supposed to be helping me find the murderer. The stupid horse isn’t a priority right now.” Charlotte raised an eyebrow.

“There’s a lot of people who’d have your head for that statement.” She said.

“There’s a lot of people who don’t care too.” The two didn’t look away from each other for a moment, then both turned to Sherlock at the same time.

“Sherlock. You help him with murderer. Me and John will find Blazing Silver.” Sherlock waved them away without commenting, not moving from his position on the ground. The Inspector smiled as a goodbye and Charlotte indicating for John to come with her.

He walked next to her in quiet for some time, watching her following the horsesteps on the ground. John couldn’t help but be reminded of Sherlock in the way she moved and thought. They were alike in so many ways, but different in so many more. He changed to watch the horsesteps with her. Then he noticed something.

“Were they there before?” He asked quietly, pointing at a set of boot prints walking alongside the horseprints. She looked at where he was pointing. Then looked back along the horseprints.

“No. Theyre new.” She stooped down next to the prints, pulling a sheet of paper from her pocket and a knife from her coat sleeve.

“Have you been carrying that all day?”

“I’ve been carrying it all year John.” She said without looking up at him. She placed the piece of paper over the print then sliced round it in the shape of the boot. John faintly wondered how sharp it would have to be to cut through paper without any bunching at all. She lifted it from the floor and folded it into her pocket, slipping the knife back up the sleeve of her coat.

“Don’t you cut yourself?” Charlotte glanced at him.

“No, I used to, when I was younger, but I hardly ever injure myself now. Used to it I suppose.” She crumpled up the excess paper and handed it to John without looking. He smiled and put it in his pocket. She was more like Sherlock than not. They carried on following the prints. They led straight into the stable yard, where they were greeted by a short thin man, who had wisps of dark matted hair on his back of his head.

“Good afternoon Charles my dear, how are you?” Charlotte smiled, in that way people do when they aren’t all too interested.

“Fine Silas, and yourself?”

“I’m doing jolly well my dear. Who’s your friend?” He said, looking pointedly at John, perhaps a little nervous.

“This is John. He’s Sherlock’s flatmate.”

“Ah, good to meet you good man.” He looked John up and down. “You’re very much Thomas’ type. Have you met Thomas yet? He does a mean ravioli.”

“No he hasn’t. And he’s very much heterosexual Silas, regardless of whether he is Thomas’ type or not. Can I ride one please?” She said quickly, without pausing. John glanced between her and Silas wondering what they were talking about.

“Yes. Very much heterosexual.” He added, before Silas could reply to her request. Just to emphasise the point.

“Yeah, sure you are. Of course my dear, pick any horse. Not the one on the end though. He’s new and a little jumpy.” Charlotte smiled politely and climbed gracefully over the fence separating them from the paddock. John took the hint he should follow.

“Make sure this one doesn’t go on Deveraux, he’ll have him for breakfast.” Charlotte smiled and pulled John away from Silas.

“Silas Brown.” She said, once they were out of earshot of the ex-jockey. “An ass, but a good horseman. Do anything for money though.” He followed her into the stables. “Look for white boots and mane on black. They’re Blazing Silver’s trademarks. Not that I think Silas is stupid enough to leave him clean, wash their feet down with water.” She turned to walk away down the aisle of horse-doors before turning back. “Oh and try not to get kicked. Most of these horses will put you in hospital for a month, if they get a good enough kick. A few might even kill.” She smiled sweetly and disappeared into the end cubicle.

He smiled and turned to look at the first horse. He was a light grey colour and didn’t solicit a washing down. However the second horse he came across was black all over and his feet were completely covered in mud. John moved to enter the cubicle when he heard Charlotte whistle for his attention from the end of the stables. He let out a quick sigh of relief and the horse in front of him whinnied, in such a tone that John couldn’t help but take it personally.

John shook his head at the horse and walked to Charlotte, she had saddled the horse up with an overcoat and bridle. She grinned and held out her hand to John, it was smeared with a thick black goo, Charlotte then lifted a part of his mane up for John to look at, it was covered in the same goo, but clearly white underneath.

“I know shoe tar when I smell it. I spent half my life painting horses in it. Perfect disguise for him. No one would suspect a thing. Silas is always getting new horses. I doubt his stable boys have even noticed.” She flicked the reins and the horse moved quietly out of his compartment. John walked alongside the horse while she talked, out into the paddock. “The thing is, I can’t believe Silas thought I wouldn’t notice. I spent half my life painting Blazing Silver black.” Charlotte grinned and stroked the horses head. “He’s the most beautiful horse I had ever seen when I was a kid. I was infatuated. And he was just a little calf then. He’s gorgeous now.”

“You’d marry a horse if you could, Miss.” A boy sat on the paddock fence said. He was clearly one of the stable boys; covered in mud and totally calm eating an apple. “Want me to open the gate for you? Silas has gone to make a bet on the race, now that Blazing Silver’s out for the trot he’s hoping to make a killing I think.” Charlotte smiled and patted the horses neck.

“Yes, I’m sure he will Harry, give him my love and tell him I won’t be bringing the horse he stole back. Come on John.” She trotted past the boy, who had hopped off the fence and opened a large gate. John followed her.

“Hang on, what do you mean, that he stole?”

“Bye Harry.” Charlotte called back. She lowered her voice back to normal to continue to talk to John. “That explains why Silas took the thing anyway. But he only joined the horse when it was far away from Straker. And he’s not the killing type. He can’t stand blood. Makes him sick.” Charlotte said this in a voice that made her sound a little cold. Like she thought he was weak for hating blood. John frowned.

“Maybe he had a bad experience as a child. With blood, I mean.” Charlotte looked down at him a little confused. “Brown. Maybe he connects the blood with something bad. You shouldn’t talk down on people like that.” A look of understanding passed her face.

“You like being a moral compass, don’t you?” She sighed after a moment of silence. “It’s just blood. That’s all. Just the thing that carries stuff around your body. It’s nothing to be scared of. I just don’t understand that’s all.” John smiled.

“No, Sherlock doesn’t understand fear either.” Charlotte smiled, looking down at John, then back up at Ross’ house in the distance. Then she dug her heels in and the horse halted almost immediately. “What are you doing?”

“Get up. I want to show you something.”

“Get up? Here? How?” She smiled and steered the horse over to a high rock.

“Climb Dr Watson.” H eraised his eyebrows.

“Why?”

“Just do it.” He sighed and did what he was told, swinging his leg over the horse. “You’ve never been on a horse before, have you?” She said, once he was on. He shook his head.

“No. But I’ve always lived in the city. Never set much store by the country.”

“No. Neither did Sherlock. He never learned to ride.” She turned her head, then placed the reins down, she put her hand on John’s jumper and pulled on it. “You need to tuck your bum in, or both the horse and you will suffer.” He swallowed and tried to rearrange himself. “Better.” She picked up the horses reins back up and flicked her wrist once. He started walking slowly. “See. He’s slower now, because he knows there’s two people. Plus he can probably feel how nervous you are.” She untucked her feet from the braces. “Put your feet in there. You’ll feel more secure.”

“What about you?” She turned her head to smile warmly at him.

“I’ll be fine. I know how to fall.” She flicked the reins again and the horse walked a little faster. “We should be there in half an hour. If he keeps up this gait at any rate.”

John laughed nervously, he couldn’t help but notice how far he and Charlotte were from a ground peppered with dangerously sharp rock. He tucked his arms around her waist, for a little extra security. She smiled.