by Mary Christmas (unicorn_76010 at lycos.com)
Holmes frowned as they made their way through the mansion. In
two days he and Lestrade would be married, and they still had found no
clues as to who their note-writer was.
The notes themselves had been coming with increased frequency in
the past two weeks, and although the threats became more and more...
imaginative... they never mentioned death.
"This is the main ballroom, where the reception will take place,"
Newman pointed out, indicating the large double-doors on their left. He
then launched into a description of what would take place.
Holmes noted that the man did not seem overly concerned about the
notes. In fact, Holmes realized, Newman had never really been
concerned at all, even from the beginning.
"Lestrade," he said, "I need to speak with you a moment. In
Newman frowned at the interruption, but did not protest as Holmes
pulled Lestrade into one of the empty rooms.
"Wha....?" she began.
"I believe I know something about the notes."
Her eyes brightened. "You noticed that Evan didn't seem too
surprised or upset about them, too?"
Holmes nodded. "Which means that he is either writing the notes
himself, or he knows who is. The question now, is why the elaborate
Lestrade nodded. "To answer that I guess we should find out who
wrote the notes." She sighed. "It also means that your cover's been
"Yes. Though I believe we should still go on as planned." Saying
this, he turned and walked out the door, not waiting to see if Lestrade
Newman smiled when he saw them, and continued to describe how the
reception would go. He was interrupted once again by Jarvins, who came
running up, waving something in his hand.
"Mister Baker!" the butler exclaimed, "this came for you!" He
handed Holmes a note.
Holmes frowned as he read.
'Dear Mr. Detective,
I know your plan and it won't work.
Hehe. If you want to see your precious
Beth alive again...you will not go through
with the wedding"
Holmes looked over at Newman, who began to fidget nervously.
"Who did you get to write the notes for you, Newman? Jarvins?"
"No! Jarvins would never do anything like...." Newman stared at
Holmes in amazement. "How did you know it was me?"
"It was quite simple, actually. You were the only one who knew I
was a detective. Second, you wanted to marry Lestrade yourself. However,
you didn't know how to go about it, since she saw as just another business
associate of her brother's.
"So, you went to someone else, who came up with the idea of the
false wedding, and you acted on it."
"And then you'd make sure we got married for real," Lestrade broke
in angrily, her face showing contempt. "It really must have thrown you
when I found a way to get out of it."
Newman sighed. "Yes," he whispered, "I knew I would never have
you any other way." He gave a short laugh, devoid of humor. "Imagine --
when I first met you, I knew I had plenty of time to wait for you. After
all, how long can a girl be in love with a dead man? Ha! Not long, unless
someone brings him back to life." He threw Holmes a bitter glance, then
put his head in his hands and began to sob.
Lestrade snorted. "Yeah, so who wrote the notes, Newman?"
"K..K...Keri. She..she...owed me a ff...ff..few favors."
Lestrade wrinkled her nose, then sighed. She turned to her
portable vidphone and said "Grayson. Hey chief...I need some men out
her to arrest Evan Newman -- and also send some to Keri Winfield's house.
The charge is fraud."
Newman stopped sobbing and stared at her. "But..."
Lestrade turned away.
"So...you almost got married to Sherlock, huh, sis?"
Lestrade glared at her brother. It had been three weeks since the
incident, but Tom had just returned from his honeymoon, and he had just
heard about it. They were in her apartment, waiting for Deidre and Kris to
come back from their shopping trip.
She was just about to deliver a scathing reply, when the doorbell
"Come in," she growled.
Holmes walked in. "Hello, Thomas. May I speak to your sister in
Tom grinned. "Why, of course, Sherlock. Be my guest." He walked
into her bedroom and shut the door behind him.
Holmes cleared his throat. "You know, Lestrade, we deal together
She nodded, wondering where he was going with this. "Yes, we do."
"Well... I... I was wondering if... perhaps... you would like... to
go to the opera with me. I bought two tickets, and Watson does not want
to go...." He trailed off at Tom's laughter coming from the bedroom.
Lestrade smiled. "Why, Holmes, are you asking me for a date?"
Holmes stood at his tallest and gave her a supercilious glare.
"If it would be no trouble," he said.
She laughed and said, "I would love to go to the opera with you.
Which one is it?"
"A new one that I have never heard of. But they say the finale is
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