Chapter Thirteen: Taxi Driver

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Mrs. Hudson walked up the stairs and came to the door again, "Sherlock, Lorenzo, dear. The taxi is waiting." She stated looking at them both expectantly.

Sherlock got to his feet and walked over towards her, "Mrs. Hudson, isn't it time for your evening soother?" he snapped, wanting her to go away so he could think.

John sat down on the chair which Sherlock vacated and watched a clock spinning round on the website as it claimed that the phone was going to be located in less than three minutes.

Sherlock frowned for a moment then heard John call his and his brothers name, "It's here. It's in two two one Baker Street." the army doctor told them.

Sherlock tuned out as he began to remember questions he and Lorenzo had asked John earlier, 'Who do we trust, even if we don't know them?' 'Who passes unnoticed wherever they go?' 'Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?'

Sherlock's and Lorenzo's phone sounded a text alert. Taking their phone from their pockets they looked at the message which simply read: 'COME WITH ME.'

They both simultaneously turned their heads towards the door.

"Sherlock, Lorenzo, you both okay?" John asked looking at the brothers, worried.

The brothers didn't pay too much attention to John and carried on looking at the door.

"What? Yeah, yeah, I-I'm fine." Sherlock replied to the doctor, not wanting to alert him of the possible danger.

"So, how can the phone be here?" John asked confused whilst looking around the flat.

Lorenzo shrugged looking outside of the door, "Dunno." He plainly answered.

John got up to get his own phone out of his jean's pocket, "I'll try it again." He said.

"Good idea." Lorenzo nodded heading towards the door with Sherlock following.

The army doctor frowned, "Where are you two going?" he asked confused, wondering why they would leave.

"Fresh air." Sherlock answered quickly for the both of them, "Just popping outside for a moment. Won't be long." he said not wanting to put John in harms way.

John frowned as the Holmes brothers left the room, and called after them, "You sure you're both all right?" he asked still worried.

"We're fine." Lorenzo shouted hurrying down the stairs to catch up with Sherlock.

Downstairs, Sherlock opened the front door. They both walked out and stood on the doorstep for a moment while Sherlock shrugged himself into his coat.

A taxi was parked at the kerb and the driver was against the side of the cab.

The taxi driver turned his head and smiled at the brothers, "Taxi for Sherlock and Lorenzo 'olmes." he said to them.

They stepped forward, Sherlock closing the door behind them, "We didn't order a taxi." the oldest Holmes said looking the man up and down.

"Doesn't mean you don't need one." The taxi driver said whilst shrugging.

"You're the cabbie. The one who stopped outside Northumberland Street." Lorenzo said, making Sherlock realise as-well.

In a flashback, the American man sat in the back of the cab outside the restaurant and turned his head to the front.

In the driver's seat, Jeff looked over his shoulder and through the rear window of the cab before turning around again and starting to drive away.

"It was you, not your passenger." Lorenzo then said looking at the man.

"See? No-one ever thinks about the cabbie. It's like you're invisible. Just the back of an 'ead. Proper advantage for a serial killer." Jeff said nodding at the teenage Genius.

Lorenzo took a few more steps forward and looked up towards the windows of the flat, "Is this a confession?" he asked the taxi driver.

"Oh, yeah." Jeff nodded carelessly, "An' I'll tell you what else: if you call the coppers now, I won't run. I'll sit quiet and they can take me down, I promise." he said confidently too the brothers.

"Why?" Sherlock then asked curiously narrowing his eyes at him.

Jeff shrugged, "'Cause you're not gonna do that." he stated looking at the taller man.

"Am I not?" Sherlock asked back skeptically.

"I didn't kill those four people, Mr. 'olmes." Jeff sighed, "I spoke to 'em ... and they killed themselves. An' if you get the coppers now, I promise you one thing." he leaned forward, "I will never tell you what I said." he said smiling.

After a moment, Jeff straightened up and started to walk around the front of the cab, "No-one else will die, though, and I believe they call that a result." Lorenzo said as his eyes followed Jeff.

Jeff stopped and turned back towards the youngest Holmes, "An' you won't ever understand how those people died, what kind of result do you care about?" He asked and turned again and continued around to the driver's door.

Getting in, he sat down and closed the door, settling into his seat, now ignoring the brother.

Biting his lip, Sherlock walked closer to the cab, looking up at the flat windows, then he bent down and looked into the open side window of the cab, "If we wanted to understand, what would we do?" he asked the driver.

"Let me take you for a ride." Jeff replied turning at him.

Lorenzo arched his eyebrow, "So you can kill us too?" he asked in a deadpanned tone.

"I don't wanna kill either of you. I'm gonna talk to you ... and then both of you're gonna kill yourselves." he answered cryptically and turned to face the front yet again.

Sherlock straightened up, his eyes lost in thought as he considered the situation; he gazed at his younger brother who was already reaching to open the door; now he couldn't back down.

Jeff calmly sat gazing out of the front window, then smiled in satisfaction when the rear door opened.

The cab dipped as Sherlock and Lorenzo got in and then the door slammed shut.

Jeff started the engine and drives away.


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