Believe in Me || Sherlock

Believe in Me- Chapter 34: Dust Lines

2 months later

"Sherlock!"
The detective was stood by an ambulance crew, twitching fretfully as John and Flora got out of a cab and ran over to him.
"That's him," said John indicating to the body that was just wheeled into the ambulance. "It's him. Sulejmani or something. Mycroft showed me his file. He's a big Albanian gangster lives two doors down from us."
"He died because I shook his hand," Sherlock said staring blankly at the floor.
"What do you mean?" Flora asked.
"He saved my life, but he couldn't touch me. Why?" Sherlock pondered. He then stormed off, leaving John and Flora to quickly follow.
Sherlock mentioned about his brief encounter with Jim Moriarty in a cab and that lead to the shooting of the Albanian hitman. John and Flora were both equally shocked when they heard the criminal's name. They were now on their way back to Baker Street. Sherlock still in thought of why Sulejmani was shot. The answer seemed obvious, but it clearly wasn't. Or was it? Sherlock had some sort of tiny idea in his head. When they arrived in the flat, Sherlock rapidly made his way into the living room, John and Flora making their way there too. Sherlock pulled off his coat and scarf, then moved across the room to his laptop.
"Four assassins living right on our doorstep," Sherlock said quickly. "They didn't come here to kill me; they have to keep me alive." He sat down and Flora shifted over to the window and looked out.
"I've got something all of them want, but if one of them approaches me-"
"The others kill them before they can get it," Flora answered.
Sherlock made a grunt of agreement and types rapidly on the laptop, switching tabs from St Aldate's School to a list of local Wi-Fi networks, which were all in foreign languages. Sherlock still hadn't got over the incident from that school. The Ambassador for the U.S had contacted Scotland Yard as his two children, Max and Claudette, went missing. Max was in intensive care and Claudette turned white as a ghost and began screaming when she set eyes upon Sherlock. Clearly, she was traumatised, but it was Moriarty's doing. He had kidnapped the children and fed them mercury until they almost died.
"All the attention is focused on me," he stated. "There's a surveillance web closing in on us right now."
"What have you got that's so important?" John questioned. Sherlock gazed into the distance and thought for a moment. Then he ran his finger along the table and lifted it up to inspect his fingertips.
"We need to ask about the dusting."
Minutes later, Sherlock had dragged Mrs Hudson upstairs and she was now stood in the middle of the room wearing only her nightdress and dressing gown. Sherlock was scurrying around the room checking all the dust of the furniture. John and Flora stood beside Mrs Hudson with odd looks on their faces. Sherlock was acting very strange. Yes, he was looking for answers, but it was a confusing way of doing so.
"Well, Tuesday I did your lino-" Mrs Hudson started.
"No, in here, this room," Sherlock said. "This is where we'll find it. Any break in the dust line. You can put back anything but dust." He lifted his hand from the piece of furniture he had been inspecting and twirled his finger dramatically in the air. "Dust is eloquent."
Mrs Hudson looked over her shoulder at Flora. "What is he on about?" She asked quietly.
"No idea," she replied shaking her head. By now, Sherlock had began to climb on the furniture to look more closely at the top shelves next to the fireplace.
"Cameras," he said. "We're being watched."
"What? Cameras?" Mrs Hudson exclaimed. "Here? I'm in my nightie!"
Then, the doorbell rang and Mrs Hudson hurried out followed by John, leaving Flora with the monkey-like Sherlock. Sherlock had now climbed down and was now checking inside the eye sockets of the skull on the mantelpiece before climbing onto a small table on the other side of the fireplace to look at the bookshelves there.
"What are you meant to be looking for?" Flora asked.
"I've just said: cameras," Sherlock replied.
"Set up by who?"
"Haven't the faintest," he shrugged. "Most likely Moriarty of course. Or Irene. Kate came into the flat months ago, before Christmas, she could have planted it somewhere. Now, Irene came to kidnap you while you were by yourself. Where did she go?"
"Over to the mirror," Flora answered. "Where she left that message. I'm surprised you got that off, but I don't like Irene actually came it and to be honest, I don't remember much."
"So the answer is Moriarty then."
Sherlock checked the bookshelf closest to the window, climbing on the table to get there. Then he realised that something was on the far right of the top shelf. Sherlock pushed the books out of the way and revealed a small, black camera. He reached up and removed it just before Lestrade walked in, followed by John.
"No Inspector," Sherlock said without turning around and still concentrating on the camera.
"What?" Lestrade asked confused.
Sherlock stepped down off the table with the camera between his fingers. "The answer's no."
"But you haven't heard the question!"
"You want to take me to the station. Just saving you the trouble of asking," Sherlock stated before walking closer to him.
Lestrade took a breath. "Sherlock-"
"The scream?" He interrupted.
"Yeah," Lestrade showed guilt in his eyes.
"Who was it? Donovan? I bet it was Donovan. Am I somehow responsible for the kidnapping? Ah, Moriarty is smart," he said with half sarcasm. "He planted that doubt in her head; that little nagging sensation. You're going to have to be strong to resist. You can't kill an idea, can you? Not once it's made a home..." He reached forward and briefly placed his fingertip on Lestrade's forehead. "... There."
"Will you come?" Lestrade pleaded. Sherlock turned away without answering, sitting down at the laptop and began to type.
"One photograph, that's his next move," Sherlock explained. "Moriarty's game: first the scream, then a photograph of me being taken in for questioning. He wants to destroy me inch by inch."
He picked up the little camera again and looks at it for a moment, then turned his gaze to Greg. "It's a game, Lestrade and not one I'm willing to play." He turned away again. "Give my regards to Sergeant Donovan."
Sighing and exchanging a brief look with John, Lestrade turned around and headed down the stairs. John and Flora watched him go before facing Sherlock, who was fiddling with linking the camera to his laptop. Flora had moved over to the window and was watching Lestrade and Donovan leave the flat. Greg glanced up to the window momentarily before getting into the car and driving off.
Sherlock briefly looked at Flora. "They'll be deciding."
"Deciding?"
"Whether to come back with a warrant and arrest me," he replied.
"You think?
"Standard procedure."
"Should have gone with him," Flora said. "People will think-"
"I don't care what people think," he snapped.
"You'd care if they thought you were stupid," John added. "Or wrong."
"No, that would just make them stupid or wrong," Sherlock retorted.
Flora turned to Sherlock with a small amount of anger in her gaze. "Sherlock, I don't want the world believing you're..." She paused.
He lifted his head to look at her and they locked eyes for a long moment. "That I am what?"
"A fraud," she muttered.
Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. "You're worried their right."
"What?"
"You're worried they're right about me."
"No," Flora replied.
"That's why you're so upset," Sherlock said darkly. "You can't even entertain the possibility that they might be right. You're afraid that you've been taken in as well."
Flora turned away and looked out of the window again. "No, I'm not."
Sherlocked leaned forward. "Moriarty is playing with your mind too," he then slammed his hand furiously on the table which made both John and Flora flinch. "Can't you see what's going on?"
Flora looked at him for a few seconds before turning away. "No, I know you for real."
"A hundred percent?"
"Well, nobody could fake being such an annoying dick all the time," she said quietly. John let out a small laugh and Sherlock's mouth twitched with a trace of a smile...