"You know Magnussen as a newspaper owner, but he’s so much more than that." Sherlock said turning around after closing the door. "He uses his power and wealth to gain information. The more he acquires, the greater his wealth and power." He continued as sits down at the dining table and opens his laptop. "I’m not exaggerating when I say that he knows the critical pressure point on every person of note or influence in the whole of the Western world and probably beyond. He is the Napoleon of blackmail ... and he has created an unassailable architecture of forbidden knowledge. Its name ..." He turns the laptop to show the screen to you and John. "... is Appledore."
"Dinner." John said out of nowhere, you raised an eyebrow.
"Sorry, what, dinner?"
"Me and Mary, coming for dinner ... with ... wine and ... sitting."
You just watch them, thinking deeply. Sherlock turns and stares at him for a moment. "Seriously? I’ve just told you that the Western world is run from this house and you want to talk about dinner?"
"Fine, talk about the house." Sherlock throws him a look, then turns back to his laptop while John looks towards the door as if he still can’t believe what he just witnessed, but eventually he turns back.
"It is the greatest repository of sensitive and dangerous information anywhere in the world the Alexandrian Library of secrets and scandals – and none of it is on a computer. He’s smart – computers can be hacked. It’s all on hard copy in vaults underneath that house; and as long as it is, the personal freedom of anyone you’ve ever met is a fantasy."
You stand up, "Stop it Sherlock. I know what you're doing. And stop using innocent people, you'll hurt them."
"Sorry, what?" John asked you, narrowing his eyes to you.
"You are really an idiot John. You see but you do not observe. I'm done here." You said coldy as you walk towards the door but before you can open it someone knocked, followed by Mrs Hudson’s familiar, “Ooh-ooh!” the door opens and she comes in.
"Oh, that was the doorbell. Couldn’t you hear it?" Mrs. Hudson said, pointing back down the stairs.
"It’s in the fridge. It kept ringing." Sherlock answered.
"Oh, that’s not a fault, Sherlock!" She exclaimed, looking anxious.
"Who is it?" You said,
Mrs Hudson draws in an anxious breath. "There are scary looking people downstairs and they said something about meeting with Sherlock. "
You frown, "Tell them they can come up."
Suddenly, three men – clearly security men, all wearing earpieces – walk into the living room. Sherlock, now standing by the fireside with John, while you, you're sitting on Sherlock's chair.
"Oh, go ahead." Sherlock said as he spread his arms and allows one of the goons to frisk him. Another one walks over to John while the third looks over you but you glared at him so he just looked around the room. "Sir?" The security said to John. John glances over to you and Sherlock, then looks back to the man. "Can I have a moment?" John said.
Sherlock lowers his arms from his frisking and looks across to the man. "Oh, he’s fine."
The man glances at Sherlock, then kneels down in front of John and starts frisking him. "Er, I ... right. I should probably tell you ..." The man reaches into John’s jacket pocket and takes out a flick-knife. "Okay, I- That." The man pulls John’s jacket open. "And ..." The man stands up, holding the tyre lever he has just taken from John’s jeans and looking at him sternly. What the hell? John steps closer to the man and speaks confidentially. "Doesn’t mean I’m not pleased to see you." The man does not look amused.
"We can vouch for this man. He’s a doctor. If you know who am I and Sherlock is, then you know who he is ..." you said standing up then turns your head towards the door as Magnussen walks in and stops just inside the doorway. "... don’t you, Mr. Magnussen?"
Magnussen looks at you like he's scanning you:
(FIRST NAME)(LAST NAME)
ASSASSIN/AGENT
M.I.6 (SEE FILE)
PORN PREFERENCE: NORMAL
FINANCES: OWN SEVERAL BANK ACCOUNTS (SEE FILE)
FAMILY: NONE
OFFICIALLY DECEASED 2011-2013
PRESSURE POINT: >
JIM MORIARTY (SEE FILE)
IRENE ADLER (SEE FILE)
HEROIN
JOHN WATSON
NICOTINE
SHERLOCK HOLMES
MOLLY HOOPER
"I understood we were meeting at your office." Sherlock said.
Magnussen looks round the room for a moment. "This is my office." He walks slowly towards the sofa, then stops and turns to look at John. Information appears in front of his eyes:
JOHN HAMISH WATSON
AFGHANISTAN VETERAN (SEE FILE)
G.P. (SEE FILE)
PORN PREFERENCE: NORMAL
FINANCES: 10% DEBT (SEE FILE)
STATUS UNIMPORTANT
PRESSURE POINT: >
HARRY WATSON (SISTER)
ALCOHOLIC
(FIRST NAME) (LAST NAME)
MARY MORSTAN (WIFE)
"Well, it is now." He continues on to the dining table, picks up a newspaper from it and then goes back and sits down on the sofa.
"Mr Magnussen, I have been asked to intercede with you by Lady Elizabeth Smallwood on the matter of her husband’s letters. Some time ago you ... put pressure on her concerning those letters."
You looked at Sherlock in shock. Lady Smallwood?
Magnussen looks up at him, leaning back on the sofa.
"She would like those letters back." Sherlock added.
Magnussen looks at him silently as he continues speaking, and information appears in front of his eyes:
SHERLOCK HOLMES
CONSULTING DETECTIVE
PORN PREFERENCE: NORMAL
FINANCES: UNKNOWN
BROTHER: MYCROFT HOLMES
M.I.6 (SEE FILE)
OFFICIALLY DECEASED 2011-2013
PRESSURE POINT: >
IRENE ADLER (SEE FILE)
JIM MORIARTY (SEE FILE)
REDBEARD (SEE FILE)
HOUNDS OF THE BASKERVILLE
(FIRST NAME) (LAST NAME)
OPIUM
JOHN WATSON
"Obviously the letters no longer have any practical use to you, so with that in mind ..." Sherlock breaks off, perhaps noticing something about Magnussen’s expression. Magnussen gives a quiet snort. Sherlock lets out an exasperated huff of air. "Something I said?"
"No, no. I-I was reading." Magnussen said as he adjusts his glasses. "There’s rather a lot."
“Redbeard.” Magnussen said. "Sorry." He shakes his head. "S-sorry. You were probably talking?"
"I ..." Sherlock pauses for a long moment, then clears his throat. "I was trying to explain that I’ve been asked to act on behalf of ..."
Magnussen turns his head to the security beside John. "Bathroom?"
"Along from the kitchen, sir."
"Okay."
"I’ve been asked to negotiate the return of those letters." Sherlock said, firmly. "I’m aware you do not make copies of sensitive documents ..."
Gesturing around the living room, Magnussen interrupted. "Is it like the rest of the flat?" He looks at the security.
"Sir?"
"The bathroom?"
"Er, yes, sir."
"Maybe not, then."
"Am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?" Sherlock asked.
"Lady Elizabeth Smallwood. I like her." He turns his eyes towards Sherlock and pops his lips a couple of times.
"Mr Magnussen, am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?"
"Best thing about the English ..." He walks over to the three of you, "...you're so domesticated. All standing around, apologising ..." He smirked to you and nods to Sherlock then walks in between Sherlock and John towards the fireplace. "... keeping your little heads down." He stands in front of the fireplace, facing it and unzipped his trousers. "You can do what you like here. No-one’s ever going to stop you." He looks down and the sound of him urinating into the fireplace can be heard. John blinks as if appalled and half-turns his head towards him. Sherlock keeps his head facing forward, his eyes fixed on the opposite wall while you study Magnussen as if it is normal thing to do.
As he continue urinating, "A nation of herbivores." Magnussen said, half-glancing over his shoulder. "I’ve interests all over the world but, er, everything starts in England." He looks down again as the last of his urine splashes on the grate in front of the fire. "If it works here ..." He jiggles up and down as he ‘shakes off’ and then zips up his trousers. "... I’ll try it in a real country." Looking at himself in the mirror for a moment, he turns and strolls back in between the boys. The security guard beside John holds out a packet of wet wipes and Magnussen takes one and turns to face the others. "The United Kingdom, huh?" He starts to wipe his fingers. "Petri dish to the Western world." He looks at Sherlock briefly. "Tell Lady Elizabeth I might need those letters, so I’m keeping them." Finishing wiping his fingers, he drops the wet wipe to the floor. "Goodbye." He turns as if to leave, then turns back and put his hand into his jacket’s inside breast pocket. "Anyway ..." He chuckles and pulls out the edge of a packet of documents to show Sherlock. "... they’re funny." Smirking, he tucks the packet back into his jacket and leaves the room.