They walked towards the abandoned factory – it was as dark and desolate as the place they had just left. Sherlock walked right in, practically bubbling with excitement. John was worried – what if Sherlock was wrong? Unlikely he was, but Maria was smart, Sherlock had said that. Or alluded to it, or something. It would crush him if he were wrong. And why would Moriarty of all people help them? It was a trap. Definitely. Why hadn’t he brought his gun? It was a stupid oversight that could just get them both killed.
“This way,’ Sherlock said, having memorised the layout of the place. They walked into a large empty room – once more containing only chairs – although this room had pieces of broken glass and machinery on the floor. The chair in question was closer to a throne – a gold throne with purple velvet. John’s eyes widened. So he was right then.
There was a cough from the side of the room – from a doorway at the back.
“Oh,” the woman said. “I hadn’t expected you yet.”