Welcome to Baker Street

52. Revenge

"Here we go, finally. Ten years later, the great detective Sherlock Holmes solves one of his first cases. It would make an impressive headline. Too bad no one will ever know this story." Kevin pouts with false regret.

"Parliament? How did you figure it out?" Giulia addresses Sherlock, wide-eyed and shocked.

"By putting the pieces together. While I was coming here, Mycroft phoned me asking for advice, odd as it may seem. He sounded stressed and worried, which indicates business, possibly a state matter. He said that all his men and agents were busy; it must be something serious, then. Lots of guardians mean lots of targets gathered altogether somewhere. The only question left was where, but my cabbie and his rants about the traffic caused by political events helped me figure it out," Sherlock sums up impossibly fast.

"But if he is here to finish an old job, it means that the Parliament was his original target all along."

"Precisely. Ten years ago, he murdered his spy-girlfriend exactly the day before the State Opening of Parliament," Holmes clarifies.

"How could you remember something like that?" She gapes at him. His recollection is even more surprising, considering that Sherlock is overtly uninterested in politics.

"Since it was one of my first cases, I bought the newspaper the next day just to read about my success as a consulting detective. Yes, I know, I indulged in a bit of complacency; I was younger, then," he says in a self-deprecating tone. "Anyway, I remember I was disappointed to see that the first three pages were all taken up by the information about the State Opening of Parliament. The news about his arrest and my contribution to the case came only much later. At the time, I could never imagine that the two facts were related, but today I cannot ignore all the clues. The US Secretary of State landed yesterday in the UK, and I bet he will deliver a speech today in Parliament. Am I wrong, Mr Rummer?"

"Right, as always, Mr Holmes," the kidnapper confirms politely. "Ten years ago, I chose the Parliament as my big show because I wanted to take my personal revenge against the British Secret Service. Not only they had collaborated with the CIA on the mission that almost cost my life, deciding to let my squad go to the field without a proper backup plan, but when an explosion blew to pieces the building where I was in, they also prevented the Agency from sending someone to check if I was alive or dead. They argued it would be too risky an operation. I got the message: I was disposable. What I never understood, though, was the reason they felt the urge to put an undercover agent on my tail, to spy on me the moment they caught wind of my possible presence in London. What threat could ever pose a dead man?" He lifts a corner of his mouth in a grotesque smile.

"That's it? Does it all come down to revenge in the end?" Sherlock asks him, slightly disappointed.

"Revenge is often the motive of a crime. In my case, it is the motive of my entire existence. The British Service let me die (or so they thought) in an explosion at the top of my career, so I wanted to let their reputation fall apart in the explosion of the British Parliament during one of the most relevant political events. I always repay in kind." His perennial smug smile is getting on Sherlock's nerves.

"However, ten years ago, you didn't get the job done because of me. Now that you are back from prison, you decided to stick to your old plan while seizing the chance to retaliate against your own country too, against the very ones who betrayed you by never even trying to find out what had happened to you." Sherlock hints at the presence of the US Secretary of State in Parliament.

"After all, my government has always suspected me of high treason and conspiracy, so why would I disappoint it right now?" Kevin asks rhetorically.

"Fine. You did this to quench your thirst for vengeance, I get it. But I still don't see how Giulia should be involved in all this." Holmes glowers at him. He's done playing.

"I took her to get to you, simple as that."

"Then why her and not John, for instance? If you just wanted to get my attention, you could have kidnapped my other flatmate," Sherlock inquires, avoiding Giulia's gaze.

Kevin pretends to ponder that option while rubbing his chin.

"Yeah, I'm sure you'd be quite concerned if he was in danger. Long-standing personal ties make for great leverage, no doubt. But with her, there's something more. I wanted to exploit a sensitive subject between the two of you: trust."

Sherlock wrinkles his nose. Kevin knows way too much. He tries to fake indifference and nonchalantly comments, "I don't trust her. Is that all you care about?"

"And yet you are here to save her. You're so predictable. But I wasn't talking about you. The intriguing thing is that she doesn't trust you. She never told you about her backstory, for a start," Kevin teases him.

He definitely has too much information. But then again, what else could you expect from a spy? Sherlock mentally sighs while the dreadful foreboding of being outsmarted descends on him.

"Not on my account. Whatever she may have experienced in her life, she now has some issues dealing with other people and trusting them. She didn't tell John, either."

"But she told your brother," Kevin drops in.

That sentence hits the mark, and Sherlock blinks repeatedly, bewildered. "What?"

"Oh, look at your face: so disoriented. She does trust a member of the Holmes family and turns to him whenever needed; I thought you'd noticed. You might want to know that they also secretly meet every week and exchange information: sometimes it's inside her university, sometimes at the library, etcetera etcetera," he lists, gesturing theatrically. "I discovered they rely on each other for very delicate matters, about which you have clearly been kept in the dark. Am I lying, sweetheart?"

Kevin looks menacingly at Giulia, who stares back at him, pressing her lips together in a flat line. Then she looks down and bites her bottom lip before lifting her eyes to the detective and whispering, "I am so sorry, Sherlock."

He stands still, arms abandoned by his sides, eyes fixed on her guilty face and her watery eyes. How could they do that to him? How could his own brother go behind his back? To be quite honest, that's not even a big deal. They don't exactly have the best relationship. Sometimes, it feels like they don't have a relationship at all.

But her... How could Giulia do that, not telling him about those meetings, not telling anything whatsoever about her past? The worst part is he can't even be mad at her. He isn't entitled to blame her, since he was the first to push her away.

He stands up tall, but he feels that something has just cracked inside him. Trust is a hazardous weakness.

"That's why my dear brother has always been so concerned about you. You are an essential asset, aren't you?" He fleers and looks her right in the eyes just for one second. Then he averts his gaze and nods twice, clearing his throat and becoming clear-headed again.

"Fine. It doesn't matter anymore. Mycroft is not here; I am. And you still haven't told me what my part in this story is," he challenges the kidnapper.

"I did tell you: I always repay in kind. This rule applies to you as well. Ten years ago, I underestimated you and ended up behind bars just because I had committed a murder and tried to make it look like an accident. But I learnt from my mistakes, and this time I promise you I am going to be impeccable." Kevin kisses the tips of his thumb and index finger, imitating a gesture of perfection.

Sherlock immediately catches the meaning of that allusion.

"I got in the spirit of your insane game: I put you in jail for murder, so I suppose you will try to frame me with homicide as well. Who will be my victim, then? You?" he jests.

Kevin's lips bend in an evil grin. "No. Her."