Entry 12

"How did you sleep?" I asked, stretching my arms toward the sky.

"I didn't."

Shirleigh was sitting in her thinking chair with her legs thrown over one of the arms. She kicked them back and forth as she stared into the flames of the fireplace.

"You didn't? But, Shirleigh, your body needs rest to repair itself."

"I'm fine."

"But your arm," I said, sitting across from her. "How is it? Has it bothered you at all?"

"It's fine."

I let out a heavy sigh and slumped in my chair. There were often moments where Shirleigh loved to talk and others where she didn't. This was one of those moments where she didn't.

"When are we heading to the manor?"

"After Hudson brings up breakfast," she said, her eyes focused on the embers of the fire. "Didn't you have an appointment today?"

"Oh, it can wait," I told her. "I wish to come along with you."

She lifted her chin never taking her gaze away from the hearth.

There was a knock at the door and Mr. Hudson let himself in carrying a serving tray in each hand.

"Good morning, Shirleigh, Miss Watson," he placed the trays on the living room table. "Were the both of you able to get some rest?"

I nodded and smiled while Shirleigh remained fixated on the flames.

"Shirleigh," he said firmly. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

"Not just physically."

Shirleigh closed her eyes and lay her head on the other arm of her chair.

"I'm fine, I promise."

I looked over at Mr. Hudson whose eyes were noticeably filled with worry and concern. He was her guardian, after all.

"Are the two of you heading back to Salisbury?"

"Yes, very soon, I believe," I replied, glancing at my flatmate. "Thank you for the meal."

He nodded and watched Shirleigh for a moment before excusing himself from the room.

"He brings up a great point, you know," I said, removing myself from my current seat to the one at the table. "What happened last night is not only harmful to the body but also to the mind. Events like that can cause mental trauma."

"I'm aware."

"Shirleigh," I stated in a tone more serious than I had anticipated.

She opened her eyes and stared directly into mine.

"Was there another reason why you were unable to get any sleep?"

Suddenly a pensive expression crossed her face and she avoided eye contact.

"Was it a nightmare?" I asked, leaving the table to return to her side.

She shook her head.

"What was it?"

"The-" she waved her hand in the air trying to gather her words. "The noise. The pain. Every time I closed my eyes to sleep, I heard it. I felt it."

Uncertain of what I should say, I reached for her hand but pulled back and let out a light sigh. When it came to mental hurt, I was afraid that I wasn't as much help as when it came to physical pain.

"When I am around you, however," she said. "I feel at ease."

Her eyes met mine and I felt a bit relieved knowing that she was doing alright for the moment.

"Right then," said she, springing to her feet. "We mustn't let the food get cold."

Shirleigh joined me at the living room table and we ate breakfast together. It was the first time I had seen her eat so much. The events that had unfolded in just the past twenty-four hours were tiresome, so it was no surprise that she would be famished. We remained seated at the table looking over the morning paper for any new occurrences in the city. I figured Shirleigh wanted to find something to keep her busy for when she put a bow on this case after speaking with Gregson.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Gregson's jaw dropped when she heard Shirleigh's explanation of the tragedy that unfolded in the manor.

"So, there are two murderers," Gregson mumbled. "But one of them was murdered by the other murderer... Where did you say this mafia was operating from?"

"La Lumaca di Mare," Shirleigh's eyes gazed over the room. "It is a seafood restaurant in Stratford. I suggest you send your officers as quickly as possible for I was spotted there last night. If they are smart, they will be planning their escape from this country without so much as leaving a trace."

"On it," Gregson rushed out the manor doors to her police vehicle, most likely to radio in the newly gained information.

"What are you looking for?" I asked, watching my companion pace about the room.

"I'm not sure," she stopped in her tracks and repetitively snapped her fingers.

"Hey, I've got a unit heading down there now," Gregson told us when she returned. "I wanted to thank you for all of your help. I never thought this case would've taken such a turn."

"It is quite the series of unfortunate events," Shirleigh said.

"Would you like to come down to the station-"

"No."

"Oh, um, okay..."

"If anyone asks, you take the credit," said Shirleigh as she started for the doors. "Leave me out of it."

"R-right..."

I gave a light curtsy before following Shirleigh outside.

"How do you feel about being called 'partners'?" I asked.

"What do you mean? Where is this coming from?"

"I recall the cab driver describing us as such and you didn't seem opposed to it," said I, adjusting the satchel on my shoulder. "Do you mind if I refer to you that way in my mind basement?"

Shirleigh's hand shot up to her mouth as she appeared to stifle a laugh.

"What?" I wondered.

"It is just- That was such an interesting way to phrase that."

I thought about it for a moment and realising that it did, in fact, sound a bit silly, I giggled to myself.

"As I have told you before," she said composing herself. "You may refer to me using whatever verbiage you desire."

"Because it doesn't matter, right?"

"That...isn't entirely true."

I turned my head to look at her but she avoided my gaze.

"Wait, you two!"

Shirleigh and I turned to see Gregson jogging toward us with something in her hand.

"This was in Ms Drebber's jacket pocket," she handed an envelope to Shirleigh. "It was addressed to you, I opened and read it in case it was something I needed to take in as evidence, but it didn't seem to have anything to do with the murder."

"I've been receiving a lot of mail recently," Shirleigh stated, raising an eyebrow. "Thank you, constable."

"Yeah," Gregson nodded. "Just so I know, if I or Lestrade encounter any other strange cases, can we call on you for your assistance?"

Shirleigh waved her hand in a dismissive manner. "Whatever."

»»————-　♔　————-««

"What did it say?"

I stood beside Shirleigh as we stared at the ashes of the letter Gregson had delivered to my flatmate. Shirleigh stretched her arms and walked over to one of the towering bookshelves.

"The same as the last," she answered.

"Really? That's quite strange. Why would the same person send you the same letter twice?"

"Spam," she shrugged her shoulders. "Someone obviously wants my attention but they won't be getting it. Especially with an alias of 'The Ringleader'. How ridiculous."

She fell into her thinking chair and folded her hands atop her abdomen as she rested her chin upon her breast.

"I think you should look into it," I said, preparing to leave. "There might be more to it than you think. I have read that patterns are crucial in criminology."

"You've been reading my books."

"A little..." I confessed. "They make for interesting bedtime stories."

She raised one of her eyebrows and fixed her attention on me.

"Are you going down to the paper?"

I nodded and slipped on my heels.

"Will you be long?"

"Shouldn't be."

She hummed and violently tapped the end table before jumping to her feet. I watched as she stood in the middle of the rug with her hands planted on either hip. I was unsure if she was in deep thought about a particular matter or if she had forgotten what she was about to do. She remained motionless for another minute or so until she strode down the bedroom hallway. After hearing the door to her room shut, I left the flat and headed down the staircase.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I noticed Mr Hudson looking rather distressed. His elbows were atop the desk and he massaged his temples. When he heard me approach, he lifted his head and looked at me with dull olive-coloured eyes, his glasses missing from his face.

"What's going on?" I questioned before he had a chance to say anything. 

He sighed and cleaned the lenses of his glasses using the handkerchief from his breast pocket. He gingerly placed them on the bridge of his nose and adjusted them so they were the perfect distance from his eyes.

"It has become obvious, hasn't it?" he sighed again. "There is something that has been pestering me for the past couple of weeks, but I wish not to drag you nor Shirleigh into it."

"Why not? We could help."

He shook his head resolutely.

"This is something I should take care of personally," he told me. "I can handle it. I do greatly appreciate your concern, Miss Watson."

I gave him a worried smile and he gave me a brighter one in return.

"I will be heading out for a bit," I informed him. "I shouldn't be long. Oh, and please do not worry about lunch, I shall bring something back with me."

Stepping out the large doors, I took a deep breath and gazed at the sky above me and I remembered something Shirleigh had said on our train ride home.

"Blue is the closest colour to truth."