A Forgotten Friend Sherlock x Fem Reader
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Dearmad Manor: Grand Saray, Cordona
7:56 pm
"I'm glad I didn't run into anyone. I truly needed a peaceful walk home to clear my head. I should check for mail, perhaps.... No. It's been ages. He wouldn't have sent a letter now, of all things." I mutter under my breath, walking to the mailbox; an idiotic sense of hope made itself known against my will. Slowly I open the lid, but nothing.
"Of course, I have taken care of any bills for the month, and I'm not exactly fully part of the 'in' crowd of Cordona except for the few art shows of Vogle's I attend. I shook my head at the memory of Vogle's last attempt to make me attend one of the parties he regularly attends, flicked in front of my eyes like a film. Unlocking the front door, I sigh and close my eyes as I lean against it, effectively shutting it and adding to my dramatics. 'I wonder what I should eat. What do I even have in the kitchen?'
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Il Palazzo del Lusso: Grand Saray, Cordona
7:40 pm
Sherry finally made it down to the bar as I claimed our table. I wonder what she is up to. I don't think Sherry remembers her. Hell! he doesn't remember much from his time on Cordona, almost like that's the whole point of us being here, Jon. I roll my eyes at myself, something usually reserved for Mycroft and whenever Sherry is stupid. How long does it take to grab food? I had an entire introspection session.
I walked up to the bar with two platters of marlin ceviche for the taking, not that we needed two. One will suffice.
"If seafood is not to your taste, everyone loves 'Benedict's Batch' - our poached eggs with a hollandaise sauce!" The bartender informs me.
I got bored waiting at the table, so I looked around the foyer and found something quite intriguing.
"Hey Sherry, just our luck!" I called, gaining his attention.
"A medium? Jon, haven't we been through this already?"
"Come on! It's not like we got anything better to do!"
After what I would call a masterpiece of convincing by yours truly, a rather intriguing character walks down the staircase. Hopefully, the table I found is still empty.
"Excuse me, sir, but I believe Mr. Ghalichi is conducting a seance at the moment," I could care less about Mr. Ghalichi's scam. "Perhaps you would care to have your portrait drawn while you wait?"
"Why?" Perhaps I could find some entertainment in a short conversation.
"Pardon me?"
"Why should I sit for a portrait?"
"I- Sir... It's art. It doesn't need a 'why.' It is its own justification." How dull.
"All things require justification, be they objects, systems, or beliefs."
"How about, 'art is the lens through which we see the truth of the world' ?"
"That's backwards. Truth is not subjective and not complicated. It's just the truth - either it is or it isn't. You do not need a lens to see it, just an open mind." This artist is quite annoying but the most entertaining thing in the room.
"Ha. That seems rather close-minded. Truth, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. So tell me, what do you see?" He holds out the sketch he has been working on.
"Mediocrity," I respond, and the artist finally walks off.
"Come now, Sherry, what did he do to deserve that? The servant mentioned Ceviche at the bar, Sherry. You should grab us some, and I'll find us a table. I'm starving." I say, heading toward the table I claimed earlier as Sherry went to the bar.
I could feel my eyes roll at Jon. I had tried to grab a platter earlier, only to have him call me to that sign advertising a seance. I grabbed a platter, "Okay, time to check if Jon found us a nice table for the evening." I found Jon at a table with a cane lying on it.
"Sherry! I'm over here with my new ursine companion." I look at Jon.
"What are you waiting for? Put the dish down so we can tuck in!" Setting the dish down, I sit down in the plush chair.
"Cordona is even quieter than I remembered. It's going to be a long evening."
"Come now, Sherry. What say we amuse ourselves with a little game?"
"What were you thinking? Promise me it isn't nonsense- after being cooped up on that boat, I am itching for activity."
"No! As you can see, someone left a cane on our table. I simply thought you could identify its owner."
"Ugh, so it is nonsense. It will take me a minute, Jon, at most!"
"Well then, you can deliver it to him as well."
"Deliver it to him? Then what are the staff here for? Aesthetics?!"
"Stubborn, Sherry! Too stubborn! You wanted something to do." 'It makes me wonder how she put up with him; me a perfect angel.'
"Slapping oneself in the face is also 'something to do' That doesn't make it worthwhile! But all right, let me take a look."
I spare a glance at Jon before starting this arduous task.
"No matter how long you stare at the stick, it's not going to walk itself to its owner."
"The handgrip is a head of a golden Javanese statue, probably stolen from a temple. The dents suggest it has been used as a bludgeon. A crest depicting a bulb of garlic in a meadow. Perhaps the Fielding family or Meadows? Or Craven from the old English name meaning 'garlic place'? The cane is made of Ebony. It is worn, uncared for, and bears the scars of numerous hits. This cane is an expensive and ostentatious weapon. Its owner must be vain, volatile, and of noble English blood."
"Take it with you, Sherry! Let's return it to its owner."
I pick up the cane time to find its owner.
"All right, I hope you noted down your observations in your casebook. But how are you going to find this nobleman?"
"The cane itself is not enough. I may have to ask other guests if they saw who was here." I inform and begin to look for someone to ask.
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Kitchen: Dearmad Manor
8:00 pm
The market is definitely on the docket for tomorrow. All I could find was a bit of sausage and two eggs. Dinner now decided, I quickly prepare it. "Hmm, I wonder what they're up to right now. Probably on a case." Putting my now-cooked food on a plate, I sat at the empty kitchen table and ate. I must have gotten lost in thought as I looked at the clock to see it was now 8:33. Picking up my plate and fork, I added them to the dishes I needed to clean.
"To clean or not to clean, that is the question." I stared at the dishes; maybe they would clean themselves…. "To clean is sadly the answer." I made quick work of the dishes. Now to get washed up and ready for bed.
With the bath filled with hot water and some rose oil, I slip out of my dress and undergarments and sink into the steaming water feeling my muscles instantly relax. Leaning my head back, I let my thoughts take over my mind once again. What would life be like with them here? More specifically, if he were here. I am certain of that, but would it have been possible for something more to have occurred? Lord knows his elder brother would protest it, saying such things are trivial for people like them. It is funny since they are only here due to their parent's love.
I slid down the tub till my head was submerged getting up after a moment. I grabbed my soap, lathering it in my hands before lathering it on my scalp rinsing it out a minute or two later. Grabbing my soap and a cloth, I quickly cleaned my body as the bath slowly lost its warmth. I got out of the tub, and pulled out the stopper, allowing the water to drain. Grabbing a fluffy towel, I dried myself off and slipped into one of my favorite nightgowns. As I lie in bed, I wonder what my dreams will show me. Maybe I will see my friends and go on an exciting adventure! I don't' even know when my eyelids finally shut.
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Il Palazzo del Lusso: Grand Saray, Cordona
7:55 pm
I approached an older lady by the bar.
"Could you help me?"
"Of course. Stop me when you've heard enough."
After conversing with her, I found out that there were three people at the table- a couple and a retired Navy officer. Observers weren't sure what happened to the couple, but the Navy officer was seen going out to the front garden for some air. I have to find him.
"Well, even with your keen senses, Sherry, I doubt you'll find the cane's owner on your first try." Jon quipped as I made my way through to the front garden.
"Ha! And would you be confident enough to bet on it, my friend?"
"Why not! Let's see how good you really are!" Now I must get this right can't let Jon have something to hold over me.
Once I entered the front garden, I gave a brief deduction of the people; to the right, by the gate, an affable Swedish artist who owns a pug; By the main walkway of the garden next to a lamp post, an affable Irish singer with seasonal allergies accompanied by an affable Irish diplomat with an allergy to seafood. So far not even close to who I'm looking for. Next was a Cordonian adventure, who was dehydrated and sympathetic. Then among a group of three men was a friendly Swedish secretary with back pains, a friendly French pharmacist suffering from cirrhosis, and an affable Swedish engineer that is a retired military officer. This is the man I was looking for. I asked him about the can and the couple he accompanied earlier that evening.
The Navy officer, Mr. Rhodes, was sitting at our table with the noble couple. The men talked about yachting, and the lady was fidgeting with the cane. Perhaps she put it aside, and her husband forgot to take it when they went to meet the medium.
"Hey, Sherry, don't we now have the perfect excuse to visit the seance?"
"I'm just going to give the cane to its owner. You will not persuade me to take part in this show."
I head over to the seance room.
"Come on, if you hurry, perhaps we'll see the ghost!"
Jon started to play the piano to intensify the mood. I open the door to see a fight between the nobleman I was looking for, the medium, and a hotel staff member.
"This hotel, this island… it's full of thieves! First my cane, now my diamond! Take your hands off me! Do you even know who I am?"
I smacked the cane down onto my hand, and Jon finished his song. That seemed to get their attention.
"Hey, boy, that's my cane!"
"I get that a lot. It's a very common design."
"What…!? No, that's a custom-made-" "A joke, a joke," I cut him off, "It was left at my table in the restaurant. I thought it deserved to be returned." I handed him the cane.
"Well, I'll be- it is rare to encounter a straight-fingered truepenny these days! What a fine gentleman! But I must ask… how did you know I was the rightful owner?"
I deduce Lord Craven swiftly to the conclusion that he is a bored British nobleman.
"Simple deduction. Your cane told me everything I needed to know. I was after a strong middle-aged man, with a keen interest in adventure, noble blood, and affection for strong drinks. And if one were to go further, one may even be able to extrapolate your name from your heraldic symbol… Lord Craven."
"Marvelous! Simply Marvellous! That's me, Lord Andrew Craven! You are the real medium! You hear that, Emma?" He looks at the woman lying on the couch and then back at me.
"Well, you found my cane… perhaps you can locate my diamond too! Yes, you should do it. It will be child's play for you, mister…"
"Holmes. And if a child can do it, then I'm sure the local police can suffice."
"The police!? Why bother? I know this harlequin stole it! The only question is where is it hidden." He turned and walked across the room from me. "Fine, give me my stick, and I'll resolve the matter myself! This thief almost confessed after a single punch."
"Hm. I suspect a beating may result in answers of… questionable veracity. Fine. I shall spare you and he the trouble, if you first answer me this. You insist the medium robbed you during the seance - but what occurred exactly?" Jon seems to be enjoying this as he watches from the corner.
"Bah, it was a dirty trick! We were sitting here in the dark, chanting and holding hands, as expected. Then something began to appear from the medium, like a cloud or a bubble. The swindler called it 'ectoplasm.'"
"Ah, yes. Common in the spiritualist trade. And quite the spectacle."
"Indeed - perhaps too much. My beloved Emma screamed in horror, and I stood to defend her, attacking that cursed ghost!"
"How brave." No sarcasm was noticeable in my voice.
"But my hand hit nothing! The medium jumped away from me, and Emma fainted. I lit the candle - and the diamond was gone!"
"How does a priceless diamond become the subject of a seance? It is an unusual accoutrement."
"Emma wished to speak with its former owners. My grandfather told us it belonged to a rajah- an Indian king."
"So you were summoning long-dead Indian royalty? And, pray tell, you were expecting him to converse in English?"
"To be frank, Mr. Holmes, I don't believe in ghosts. But Emma was fascinated by the idea of meeting a real king… even a dead one."
"Well, a crown is a crown. Can you describe the stone itself?"
"A yellow diamond, not less than a hundred carats, and perfectly egg-shaped. There is not another like it!"
"Stay here, and don't touch anything. I'm going to investigate further."
"Don't fret. I'll be keeping a close eye on this thief."
I started my investigation at the table where the diamond was seen last. In the center of the table, there was a holder for the diamond. A moth brooch was in the medium's coat and a splotch of green ectoplasm was on the table. The broken wine glace had traces of rouge in its edge and a half glass of Balblair scotch along with the remains of a Por Larranaga cigar.
I walked over to the hotel staff member, who thanked me for my help to resolve the situation. Just past him and the doors to another area, a nearly broken hefty chair.
"Is it even possible for one man to lift it?"
Lord Craven suddenly spoke, "At Cambridge, I was captain of the rugby team. It was no place for weaklings."
Time to talk to the medium.
"What happened here?"
"I don't know! The ghost… I summoned it as usual, but then it all went wrong. The lady screamed and pointed at Lord Craven… And there was a shadow! Such a mystical force! It terrified the lady. And it must have taken the diamond - who else could have?"
"Do you feel the presence of any supernatural entities at the moment?"
"Are you joking, sir? My nose is broken, this maniac wants to kill me, and you're asking about the spirits?"
"I suppose this can wait. I will investigate, and the culprit will be identified."
"But this stubborn brute, Lord Craven, blames me right now! As if I could do something like that! Perhaps you can reason with him? Please!"
"Seems like you are ready to delve into your mind palace, Sherry. I'm sure you'll make some good deductions!"
I'll enter my mind palace after I've looked around some more.
"Was this covered on purpose?"
"Of course!" The medium answered, "It is very dangerous to leave a mirror exposed during a seance! The spirits may become enraged.
"Or someone may notice the trick they should not see…" I muttered.
Next to the mirror were skulls littered on a shelf, three human and one animal with a candle.
"How can you not love this stuff, Sherry!? It adds so much atmosphere to the room!"
I looked at Emma on the couch. Her skin was pale, quickened pulse and unsteady breathing.
"She's barely conscious. Bah, the feebleness of women."
"Really, Sherry? Poor thing." Although it was Jon that scolded him, he could almost hear another voice, a more feminine one say it to him. 'How odd.'
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AN: So much dialogue in this game, but I rather keep the majority of the dialogue the same when I can and when I feel up to typing it all out... Probably a few more chapters still till Sherry and y/n meet again. Lowkey forgot how much happened before the case I want to use to reintroduce our childhood friends. If you spot nay mistakes or have any ideas on how I can improve please let me know!
Chapter 3