Transcript provided by Ariane Devere/ Callie Sullivan
****
Later that evening, John waited for Sherlock in the foyer of the CAM Global News building. His afternoon was busy talking with Mary about Sherlock's new relationship. Even she was surprised at the mere idea that Sherlock had moved on.
John casually listened to the newscaster on the television talking about John Garvie being arrested after being charged with corruption.
"Magnussen's office is on the top floor, just below his private flat," Sherlock said, causing the doctor to slightly jump in surprise. "There are fourteen levels of security between us and him, two of which aren't even legal in this country," Sherlock looked over at the security card readers next to the elevators. "Want to know how we're going to break in?"
"Is that what we're doing?"
"Of course it's what we're doing," Sherlock said as he turned and walked towards an escalator.
"Magnussen's private lift," Sherlock explained as the arrived at an elevator on the next floor. "It goes straight to the penthouse and his office. Only he uses it and only his key card calls the lift. Security is automatically informed if anyone else even tries," Sherlock pulled out a key card and showed it to John. "Standard key card for the building. I nicked it yesterday, it'll only get us as far as the canteen. If I was to use this card on that lift now, what happens?"
John shrugged. "The alarms would go off and you'd be dragged away by security,"
"Exactly,"
"Get taken to a small room somewhere and your head kicked in," John continued.
Sherlock looked at his best friend. "Do we really need so much colour?"
John shrugged. "It passes the time,"
"But if I do this..." Sherlock pressed the security card against his phone, "If you press a key card against your mobile phone for long enough, it corrupts the magnetic strip. The card stops working. It's a common problem, hence why they always tell you to never put your key card with your phone. What happens if I use the card now?"
"It still doesn't work,"
"But it doesn't read as the wrong card now. It registers as corrupted. But if it's corrupted, how do they know it's not Magnussen? Would they risk dragging him off?"
"Probably not,"
"So what do they do? What do they have to do?"
"Check if it's him or not,"
"There's a camera at eye height to the right of the door. A live picture of the card user is relayed directly to Magnussen's personal staff in his office- the only people trusted to make a positive ID. And at this hour, almost certainly his PA,"
"So how will that help us?"
"Human error," Sherlock smiled and patted his breast pocket. "I've been shopping. Here we go, then," Sherlock pressed the card against the reader, causing it to beep in error.
"You realize you don't exactly look like Magnussen,"
"Which in this case is a considerable advantage," Sherlock replied as she smiled at the camera.
John sighed in confusion but froze when he heard a familiar voice.
"Sherlock, you complete loon! What are you doing?" A familiar Irish voice said on the intercom.
"Hang on, was that...? That's-!" John began to say in disbelief. Of course.
Sherlock lifted his hand to cut John off. "Hi, Janine," He said to the camera "Go on, let me in,"
"I can't! You know I can't. Don't be silly," Janine replied.
"Don't make me do it here," Sherlock glanced around at the other office workers. "Not in front of everyone,"
"Do what in front of everyone?" Janine questioned.
John stared in shock and horror as Sherlock pulled out a small velvet box, opening it up to reveal a diamond ring. Part of him was relieved that it wasn't the ring that Sherlock had proposed to Alice with at Christmas. His emotions turned into anger as they stepped into the elevator.
"You see?" Sherlock said as the elevator doors opened for them "As long as there are people, there's always a weak spot,"
"That was Janine," John commented.
"Yes, of course it was Janine. She's Magnussen's PA. That's the whole point,"
"Did you just propose to her in order to break into an office?"
"Yeah. Stoke of luck, meeting her at your wedding. You can take some of the credit,"
"Jesus, Sherlock! She cares about you," John glared at Sherlock as the elevator began to rise. "What are you gonna do?"
"Well, not actually marry Janine, obviously. There's only so far you can go,"
"So what will you tell her?"
"Well, I'll tell her that our entire relationship was a ruse to break into her boss' office and that I am currently engaged to another woman. I imagine she'll want to stop seeing me at that point,"
"If you're still engaged," John pointed out. "Did you even think about what you are going to tell Alice when she finds out what you have been up to this past month?"
Sherlock didn't respond. The elevator doors opened and the two men got out.
"Where did she go?" John asked as they walked into an empty office.
"It's a bit rude. I just proposed to her," Sherlock said.
"Sherlock," John called as he walked over to Janine's body lying by the windows.
"Did she faint? Do they actually do that?"
"You nearly did so when I asked you to be my best man," John placed his hand on her forehead and found a few drops of blood on his fingers. "It's a blow to the head. She's breathing. Janine?"
Sherlock walked across the office "Another in here," He called out. "Security,"
"Does he need help?" John asked, still watching over Janine.
"Judging by the tattoo: ex-con and white supremacist, so who cares. Stick with Janine for now,"
John nodded and focused on his patient.
Sherlock walked over to the nearby desk, touching the leather seat. 35º C "Magnussen's here, his seat's still warm. He should be at dinner but he's still in the building. Upstairs!"
"We should call the police," John whispered.
"Durning our own burglary?" Sherlock asked, "You're really not a natural at this, are you?"
"You'd think by now I would be after almost four years of knowing you," John sighed and placed his phone back in his pocket.
"No, wait, shh!" Sherlock said in a loud whisper before sniffing a familiar scent. He quickly tried to identify it.
Chanel No 5
"Perfume- not Janine's." Sherlock thought out loud.
Prada
Dior- Alice?
Sherlock shook his head and thought harder.
Clair-de-la-Lune
"Clair-de-la-lune! Why do I know it?" Sherlock asked.
"Mary wears it,"
"No, not Mary. Somebody else," Sherlock lifted his head, hearing a noise.
"Sherlock!" John whisper-called as the detective headed upstairs.
As he walked along the carpeted hallway of Charles Magnussen's private flat, Sherlock could hear Magnussen's shaking voice.
"Coming here? What- what would your husband thin, eh?" Magnussen's tearful voice asked. "He... your lovely husband, upright, honourable... so English. What- what would he say to you now?"
Standing in front of Magnussen was someone dressed in all black with black gloves. They cocked the gun before aiming it at Magnussen.
"Nej, Nej!" Magnussen cried out in his native tongue. "You're doing this to protect him from the truth... but is this protection he would want?"
Sherlock slowly pushed open the door and walked into the room, standing only a few feet behind the person holding the gun. "Additionally, if you are going to commit murder, you might consider changing your perfume, Lady Smallwood,"
Magnussen looked at Sherlock, confused. "Sorry, who? That is not... Lady Smallwood, Mr. Holmes,"
The gunman turned around, revealing herself to be Mary Watson.
Sherlock took a deep breath. He had suspected that she was hiding something when they first met. He even did background checks on everyone that attended the wedding so no one would hurt-
"Is John with you?" Mary asked, pointing her gun silencer at Sherlock's chest.
"He's um..." Sherlock began to stutter, still stunned to register what had just happened.
"Is John here? Mary asked again.
"He's- he's downstairs,"
Mary nodded.
"So, what do you do now?" Magnussen asked softly. "Kill us both?"
Sherlock stepped forward, holding out his hand. "Mary, whatever he's got on you, let me help,"
"Oh, Sherlock," Mary smiled humorlessly. "If you take one more step I swear I will kill you,"
"No, Mrs. Watson, you won't,"
Just as Sherlock began to lift his foot off the floor, Mary pulled the trigger.
The bullet hit under his right chest and blood began to pour out.
"I'm sorry, Sherlock. Truly am," Mary said, her voice almost tearful.
"Mary?"
***
A surprise Wednesday update!
Thank you for all the favourites and comments, I love reading them.
Love,
Anya