Chapter 08

Inside the Mariah, Clarkie was still fidgeting while Jonathan, who sat beside him, looked out the window, admiring the changing scenery of the outside world.

On the other hand, Sherlock was giving John an incredulous look while Dr. Watson scratched his head in embarrassment.

"I can't believe you actually accepted a cup of tea in this situation!" Sherlock stated, still revelling in shock

"He sat down too and chatted" Jonathan added with a grin, turning away from his sightseeing to enjoy the current developments.

"I wasn't in full control of myself. My thoughts were cluttered and sporadic hence my unfocused state"

"Oh you have my empathy, I assure you, Watson but one would imagine that if the deceased had risen from the dead that it would be at the top of your list of professional priorities, as a doctor."

"I apologise, Clarkie. It temporarily slipped my mind" John ignored Sherlock and said to their escort

"No worries, Dr. Watson. It's not like the dead are going anywhere..."

"...."

"...."

"It's just a joke, Sir. My apologies."

"I thought it was rather... refreshing, don't you think so, Watson?" Sherlock asked with a teasing smile

"Shut it"

Jonathan watched their interactions with a smile. Despite the slightly confrontational manner of their banter, Jonathan didn't sense any bad will or ill intent in their words.

Even Clarkie's joke had been made in good humour but his dry delivery and uniform were a terrible combination.

"That aside, I'm surprised you agreed so easily to come, Dr. Reid." Sherlock now looked at Jonathan

"If you learn nothing else from me, Detective. Remember this, I am a man of my word. I also have a vested interest in the Blackwood family."

"Rarely anyone does things out of the goodness of their hearts. We all have our secrets, Dr. Reid.

I trust that it won't interfere with our investigations?" Sherlock asked

"Don't worry, Mr. Holmes. You will have no trouble from me" Jonathan assured him.

---------------

The dirt paths into the graveyard were wide and long. At each of the four cardinal directions stood a building, who's walls acted as stand in fences for the graveyard boundaries.

The sides of each path and every piece of ground between the building walls and roads were filled with grave memorandums and crypts of different shapes and sizes, creating a varied yet sombre sight.

As their van came to a halt, Jonathan and his companions were greeted by a platoon of uniformed men who moved about quietly, all equally distressed by the current situation.

Sherlock was already turning around as he exited, taking in the sights and making quiet observations.

"Who do you think won the match, Clarkie?" Sherlock asked, out of the blue

"Match, Sir?" Clarkie asked in reply, confused

"The rugby match" Sherlock stated while pointing at the numerous deep and light treads that messily covered the path in front of the burial site. They were fresh and quite recent.

"You boys have done a magnificent job obliterating any potential evidence" John sighed

"Yes, but at least they never miss an opportunity... to miss an opportunity" Sherlock added, done with his observations

"It's alright, Clarkie. The constables aren't educated in these areas of law enforcement so it's hardly your fault. This situation would muddle even the soundest of minds." Jonathan assured the embarrassed constable

"Thank you, Sir"

The remains of Blackwood Crypts came into sight after their short walk. Large stone slabs, as thick as two men, that once covered the entrance to the crypt was now shattered into pieces.

The statue above the crypt was not spared from the destruction. The messy debris and gloomy weather were foreboding.

"You took your time, Holmes" Lestrade voice rang out from the depths of the crypt

"And on the Third Day..." Sherlock joked

"This is no time for jokes. These slabs are half a ton each if they're a pound and they were smashed open from the inside!" Lestrade relayed to him

[A/N: 1102.31 Ibs / 499.99 kg per slab]

"What of the coffin, Lestrade?" Sherlock asked

"We are in the process of bringing it up" Lestrade informed.

"I see." Sherlock looked at the uniformed men who just stood silently, unwilling to move and turned back to Lestrade

"Hm. Right. At what stage of the process? Contemplative?"

"Where is our witness?" John asked after checking his bag.

"He's over there, Doctor. Apparently, he's cata... He's cat.."

"Catatonic, Sir" Clarkie pitched in, helpfully.

"Hm. He's not feeling very well." Lestrade concluded

Lestrade moved towards his men after speaking with Sherlock and proceeded to give them a scalding reprimand.

Sherlock sat down next to the broken crypt doors and examined each and every pebble with a interested look.

Jonathan seeing this, decided to follow John as his skills were more suited to the task. They moved towards the shaken groundskeeper, who couldn't even stand to face the same direction as the crypt.

"Good day, Sir" John called out to the quivering man

"Hm...go-good day" The man replied quietly.

John proceeded to grab the arm of the man but he resisted.

Jonathan watched his actions and decided to step in to mediate.

"Don't worry, Sir. My name is Jonathan Reid and this is John Watson. We are both doctors." Jonathan spoke calmly, to ease the man's worries

Nodding slowly, he let Sherlock examine him while Jonathan continued to speak to him to ease his worries.

"Your reaction is perfectly normal, Sir. Anyone in your shoes would have reacted as such."

"Ar-re you pa-patronizing me, Dr. Reid?"

"No, Sir. Simply stating that no one is above fear. Your restlessness and impeded speech patterns are common traits for some experiencing shock. Fortunately, those traits are only temporary and will fade with time. You will be fine."

The man looked grateful but still looked at John for confirmation. John, noticing his gaze, turned to him and nodded before removing his hand from his pulse after checking his eyes.

"Everything looks normal. Slightly elevated heart rate but nothing that will cause any serious damage. You should be back to normal in a few moments." John added his analysis.

Jonathan wanted to ask him a few questions but the difficulty he showed in even introducing himself dissuaded him.

Although it was best to ask questions while today's events were still fresh in his mind, he could not in good conscience force a statement out of a suffering patient.

"We'll ask you questions when you're feeling up to it, Sir." Jonathan said before walking away.

Lestrade approached the two doctors and asked for any new information. After describing his symptoms, John said he would need a bit more time before he could speak to them.

"Before you arrived, the witness stated that he saw Lord Blackwood rise from the grave. Well?" Lestrade asked with a pointed tone

"Well?" John asked back, annoyed at the tone

"You pronounced him dead, Doctor." 

"He had no pulse!" John replied but it fell on deaf ears

Meanwhile, Lestrade's fellow constables had finally acquired a spine and dragged Lord Blackwood's coffin out from the depths of the crypt.

The dark glossy wooden casket had the Blackwood insignia beautifully etched into it's lid. The intricate leather binding along the edges coupled with it's gold finishings spoke to the wealth of the occupier, even in death.

With a lack of appreciation for the work of art and a swift hand, John and Lestrade pried open the coffin lid and were shocked by it's contents.

"Good Lord!" John remarked

"That's not Blackwood" Lestrade commented, surprised

Indeed, it was not. Inside the coffin was the pale, maggot infested body of a red headed dwarf, covered in dirt. He was fully clothed and the dirt had aided in the express decomposition of the body.

Sherlock closed his eyes and shook his head dismissively at Lestrade's comment.

"Well, now we have a firm grasp of the obvious" Sherlock replied before pulling out his bag of tools and focusing on the body.

"Time of death?" He asked

John looked at Jonathan and Jonathan gestured him forward, letting him have centre stage.

John crouched down and grabbed his own pocket tools to pull out a ruler which he used to measure the most prominent maggot he saw.

"Diptera is... approximately two thirds of an inch which would put the time of death at... between 10 and 12 hours ago."

"May I borrow your pen?" Sherlock asked Lestrade

Lestrade had just uncapped his pen and was ready to take notes when Sherlock asked for it. He obliged and Sherlock used the pen to observe the dwarf's teeth after remembering the task he'd been given by the beautiful Irene Adler.

"Adler's dwarf?" John asked, understanding his actions

"Midget. But yes." Sherlock replied before handing the pen back.

Disgusted by the unconventional use of his personal effects, Lestrade retrieved the pen into his handkerchief and looked at Sherlock in disapproval.

Sherlock ignored the looks he was given and removed his hat before tussling his hair.

With a quick glance, he noticed a pocket watch in the midget's waist coat and tossed his hat on top of it.

Before anyone could notice his actions and call them into question, the groundskeeper's voice, seemingly recovered, called out to the investigative team.

"I know what I saw. It was Blackwood! As clear as I see you!"

Using the distraction and a bit of sleight of hand, Sherlock grabbed the pocket watch while everyone else was focused on the man. Looking around, he was surprised when he saw someone looking straight at him.

Jonathan had noticed Sherlock's action but kept silent. With a quiet nod, Jonathan turned away from the redhanded Sherlock and continued listening to the prime witness' testimony.

"And when the dead walk... the living will fill these coffins."

There was a short moment of tense silence that was quickly broken by Sherlock clearing his throat

"Well, uhm... interesting" He said before walking away

Taking that as their cue to leave, Lestrade instructed his men to close the coffin and secure it while the two doctors followed after their tension breaking friend 

"You really believe that he's been ressurrected?" John asked Sherlock

"The question is not if, but how. The game's afoot." Sherlock replied.

"Follow your spirit" John began chanting

"And upon this charge, cry:

God for Harry, England and Saint George" Sherlock finished, chanting together

--------------

"That was quite the start to your morning" Elisabeth commented after Jonathan told her about the beginning of his trip

"Isn't it? He is a gifted schemer. Using the dirt to increase the weight of the casket as not to alarm the pallbearers to the discrepancy in weight. Quite brilliant. I am sure Mr. Holmes has already made some discoveries."

"What makes you say that?"

"As John examined the groundskeeper, I watched him lick various pebbles after examining them" Jonathan replied

"Most people would have called those actions, idiotic..."

"Detective Holmes is many things but an idiot is not one of them. I vaguely smelt an essence of honey in the air but assumed it was remnants of someone's meal or perfume. Now I realize it was unlikely."

"True. Considering the recent rise in popularity of Honey in the last century and it's prices, It would be uncommon for honey to be bought on a constable's wage. Also, honey scented perfume on a man would be quite unique."

"My thought's exactly. I have my thoughts on his actions but I will wait for Mr. Holmes' conclusion."

"Well, while you were out, I received a correspondence from one of my old contacts. Apparently, they had been approached by Jacob Blackwood with an offer to rule England and soon, the entire world."

"A very tempting offer. What made them refuse? Did they not believe in his words?"

"They believed him but they still refused. Their family had been run out of England by The Guards of Priwen during the Great Cleansing. Although their presence had become less noticeable, the sound of their name and their terrifying history is more than enough deterrent for most upstarts."

"But not Jacob Blackwood?" Jonathan asked

"The man is depraved, greedy but above all, insane. I have no doubts that he looks down on the Guards of Priwen and their achievements. Seeing their existence as mere challenges for his plans."

"That man is something else... it makes one wonder what William Marshall could have possibly done to cause a man, who does not fear being prey to a millennia old clan of Vampire hunters, to run away with his tail between his legs."

"Whatever his actions were, it would be fair to say that the Lord's instrument was not acting on behalf on his God that day."