It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

75 - If Thy Right Hand Offend Thee...

In the defendant's chair sat Ruth King, bound to the furniture, gagged, and sobbing her heart out regardless of the gag in her mouth. Her right hand was tied to the arm rest, a scary, guillotine-like contraption daintily hanging above her limb. In the witness box sat her forbidden lover, a lad who couldn't have been older than twenty-five, also bound to his seat and gagged with a similar guillotine-like contraption over his left hand. The thick ropes holding the deadly part of the contraption up, all led back to the magistrate's bench.

There was loud static in the room, startling the four of them. But then they heard Moriarty's voice, full of humour and disregard for the human life.

"You have entered the courtroom of Judge James Moriarty. The people are real! The cases are real! And the rulings are final! Welcome to your case finale."

"Jesus, just when I thought he couldn't get any sicker." Elizabeth's eyes burned with hate for the man who had raised her.

"Mr Holmes, Miss Parrish, this evening one life has already been condemned." Sherlock noted that his chilling voice had been recorded, "But I wonder which of these two you will set free unscathed. Pick Ruthie, the adulterer and dear Felix will wrongly lose a hand. However, Pick Felix and poetic justice will be served. Pick no one and, well..."

Two red dots appeared on the foreheads of both people. Sherlock spun trying to see where the snipers had been placed but couldn't make out any vantage points whatsoever. But there were windows. The snipers had to be placed outside the building.

"That simply isn't an option. And just in case neither of you believe me..."

Elizabeth's eyes rounded as she saw red dot appear on Sherlock's front. Without a thought, she roughly shoved him up against the press box, narrowly saving him from a bullet that shattered the glass of the window above Felix's head. Each took a breath.

"Glad we all understand each other. Pick who loses a hand at the magistrate's bench."

There was more static and then silence save for the dull, hysterical crying from Ruth, the muffled shouting from Felix and the heavy breathing of the couple who were recovering from their own near-death experience.

"Thank you." Sherlock breathed.

"Any time." She paused, looking at the potential victims, "What are we doing then?"

"If we don't play his game, they both die."

"And if we do, someone loses a hand."

"Surgery has come a long way - "

"You're not seriously considering it, are you?"

All Sherlock could do was give her a grave stare.

"No. There has to be - "

"Elizabeth, I understand your bias of Moriarty but listen to me when I tell you: this is tame in comparison to the last event he organised. People died last time. People have died this time but he's giving us an option to save two people now. The only sacrifice we have to make is someone's hand."

She shook her head, "We can’t make that choice."

"We don't have the choice to not make the choice. Do you want two people to die?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then we need to decide whose hand we're severing." Sherlock said this coldly, emotionlessly as he headed towards the magistrate's bench, giving Ruth and Felix a blank look each, "Leave their gags in, it'll be easier to decide - "

"They deserve a say!" Elizabeth spoke, alarm clear in her tone.

As Sherlock stood behind the bench, staring down at Elizabeth who lingered below, he shook his head sternly, "Do not remove their gags."