Chapter Text
It was a normal day in apartment number 221B Baker Street. Though, normal was a blessing in Watson’s life ever since he started sharing the apartment with Sherlock Holmes. An eccentric chemist with a penchant for lethal experiments, a consulting detective who has not let even the infinitesimal clue escape, and last but not the least, a horrible violinist. Watson dreads the day he readily gave permission to Holmes for playing it when they live together. Now, he does, and now he regrets it.
Exhausted from hearing the poor attempts at melodies, Watson sighed, and got up to leave the room for more peace. Just then, a knock on the door was heard—a blessing in disguise. He straightened his suit and opened the door with a smile, “Good morning, Madam. How may I be of assistance?”
“May I please speak to Mr. Sherlock Holmes?” The woman dressed in a copper bodice with white buttons running down her torso, her skirt had perfect pleats lined with eyelet lace. Her gown matching immaculately with her brown hair and the contrast of her black sheer gloves was a satisfying touch. “Oh, yes, of course, he’s right there,” Watson led her inside the living room.
Holmes stopped playing in respect of the visitor. “Ah, you have come for me. Please take a seat, Miss…” The detective let the woman answer with a pause as she sat down across from him, “My name is Katherine Erskine Murray, sir. I have come here to ask for help on a peculiar subject that has left me utterly confused and bewildered.”
Holmes and Watson exchanged a hinting glance in the middle of Miss Murray’s discourse, acknowledging the lady’s beauty. “Allow me to introduce my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson,” she shook her head in acknowledgment as the doctor smiled. Holmes looked away with a small twitch in his mouth to not get distracted and attend to her problem. “You may have read my letter that I sent a week ago?”
The detective looked up, “Yes, I have—Watson, if you don’t mind, can you grab it from my desk? Thank you.” Watson discreetly rolled his eyes and went to grab the letter, “Here you go,” Holmes skimmed through the letter, gathering the essential details before proceeding.
“According to your letter, Miss Murray, you are a governess at a wealthy household but you have not disclosed the name, meaning they are part of a very influential class.” She nodded, “That is right, Mr. Holmes but please don’t be mistaken. I will take you there, I am just afraid of the name slipping from my lips,” she touched her lips almost worriedly.
Watson raised his eyebrows in surprise at the enigmatic tone, “Is it really that serious, Madam?” She looked up at him, “Yes, it is, Dr. Watson. They have made people—who have said their names out loud—meet their silent ends,” Watson instinctively touched his neck. She turned her attention to Holmes as he spoke, “In the letter, you wrote that you would tell me the whole matter about a conflict between your employer and the servants when you arrive. You may now share it with us.”
“Thank you, Mr. Holmes,” she took a deep shaky breath before continuing, “Three months ago, evening hours, I was teaching the master’s only child as usual until I heard a loud bang from downstairs,” she looked distantly. “The boy clutched me in fear, there was pure terror on his face. As if the boy wasn’t afraid of the noise but of the reason behind it.” Watson leaned against the back of the chaise and looked at the floor as if concerned for the boy himself.
Miss Murray looked at her pale hands, “I’ve not been a governess for more than a year, so I can be wrong about what I have heard, and seen… but it deeply disturbed me,” she gulped, “From upstairs, I saw the master walking in as usual from his business but with red footprints following behind.”
She clutched Holmes’ wrist in utter confusion, “I swear, Mr. Holmes, I don’t hallucinate—I smelled blood—it was that strong. He didn’t look like a murderer, his hands were clean as crystals, and his face too…” she straightened herself in her chair, “I don’t know how to describe what I saw, Mr. Holmes… I couldn’t even ask the boy, he was already afraid.”
Watson looked with a concerned look but Holmes was focused on the client, placing his hand on hers as if to check her pulse, “There is no reason to fret, Miss Murray. We will look into the matter promptly. For now, you may go home and take a nap.” She stood up, followed by Holmes, “Thank you, Mr. Holmes. Thank you, Dr. Watson,” she lightly bowed to them and turned away to leave.
He turned to the doctor as both looked back at the client, admiring her elegant poise once again. Realizing that they couldn’t let the lady open the door, Holmes surprisingly went first, and held the door open for her. Watson raised an eyebrow as his friend rarely was so eager to open and close the door.
Instead of leaving, she turned around to look at him, “How did you know that I took a nap at this time?” the detective smiled, “I deduced that by the way you were looking at the pocket watch in your hand,” he pointed to her hand, which grasped a small watch. “And I also observed your strange habit of nodding, which told me that you were looking for a rest. If you don’t mind, your rather heavy eyelids and diminishing attentiveness indicate that you were losing focus. This only tells me that the matter was quite important that you sacrificed your sleep to speak to me.”
Miss Murray blinked at him, her mouth opened in astonishment, but she looked away with a blush embarrassed to know that her sleepiness was so obvious, “I see… Thank you for your observation, Mr. Holmes. I’m quite impressed, now I am sure that you will be able to help me. Good morning, gentlemen.” She bowed and left.