The Swan Queen | Sherlock

Life As Normal

It had to be done... Had to be done... As if killing a man was an easy choice to make, as simple as deciding to take out the trash. Nothing had to be done, a life didn't have to be taken. He could have been allowed to live. Nobody had to die. But he died because of me.

"What about me?" I asked suddenly, my attention turned back to Moriarty. "Did I have to die?"

"Yes," he replied calmly, "and no."

"It can't be both."

"Can't it?" He moved closer to me, his eyebrow arching. "The person who, and I'm not naming names at this stage, arranged the attack wanted you dead. It had to happen, you were getting too bold. You still are, by the way, coming here for one, and I heard about the incident with the driver. The only problem was, you can't die, not yet at least. Your mummy wouldn't like that."

The wine glass slipped from my hand at the mention of my mother, it shattered on the floor. Neither of us acknowledged it. Our eyes never leaving each other's faces.

"W-what?" I stuttered, my demeanour shifting. All confidence left my body. I felt like a terrified child, standing in front of the glass again.

"It's part of our arrangement, you see." He slid closer to me still, till our knees were touching. "Your mother expects me to look out for you now that I know the big Holmes secret. With good reason, too, the trouble you get yourself into. Just think of me as your new Godfather." He placed his hand on my leg. The gesture felt unnatural, and strange, especially coming from him.

"Who invited me to the New Years party? Who wanted to scare me?"

He made no reply. Only sipped his whisky and moved his hand further up my leg. My mind was racing, trying to connect all the dots while missing several of the answers. For too long we were focused on all three crimes being linked, but none of them were. They were all individual attacks. Lord M, killed for wanting to tell the truth, a threat to me. Rodger Middleton, the driver, killed for trying to take me somewhere, also a threat to me. Apollo was to blame for that one, I'm sure of it, but the first? That one I'm not so sure. My estranged brother was the most likely candidate.

And then there was me, my attack. It wasn't Moriarty, I know it wasn't. It wasn't the Melbourne family. It was only supposed to scare me, I wasn't going to die, but what if that weren't the case? What if Paul Smith was lying? Might it have been out of sudden anger towards me? Something I had said or done?

Something I had said...

The pieces finally fell into place.

"Paul," I whispered, "Paul Smith. It was him, wasn't it?"

Moriarty didn't say anything, but he did retract his hand. He was a hard man to read, however, I think I saw some confirmation that I was right. I stood up, unable to contain my excitement, and began pacing the room.

"I saw him at Christmas, he professed his love to me. He told me that I was his soulmate and I... I said nothing, I left. He must have been angry with me, angry enough to invite me to the party and plan for someone to..." My hand touched my side, the other nervously ran through my hair. I turned to face him. "Am I close?"

Ever silent he was until he started clapping. "Well done, Sammy. You cracked the case. There is nothing more dangerous than a man scorned, and you broke his heart."

"He's a madman who kills for money, how could he ever think I would love him?"

"Because the only thing more dangerous than a man scorned is a man obsessively in love. Might be that he just wanted to hurt you. The main thing is that you're still alive."