In an art gallery, the Director of the gallery is finishing his speech as he stands near a painting.
"Falls of the Reichenbach, Turner's masterpiece, thankfully recovered owing to the prodigious talent of Mr. Sherlock Holmes." The director said.
The patrons applaud. Sherlock, Vaness and John are standing nearby. The Director gives a small gift-wrapped box to Sherlock.
"A small token of our gratitude." The director said.
Sherlock takes the box and looks at it.
"Diamond cufflinks. All my cuffs have buttons." Sherlock said.
"He means thank you." John said to the Director
"Do I?" Sherlock asked
"Yes you do." Vaness said to Sherlock, smiling to the director.
"Thank you." Sherlock said insincerely.
He starts to walk away, hand holding Vaness', but John holds him back.
"Hey." John said.
"Just a few." Vaness whispered to Sherlock.
Sherlock unwillingly stops and the press start taking photographs. Later, one of the photographs appears in a newspaper article headed "Hero of the Reichenbach". The straplines read "Turner masterpiece recovered by 'amateur' ; "Scotland Yard embarrased by overlooked clues". The text of the article reads: "A Turner masterpiece worth £1.7million that was stolen from an auction house ten days ago has been recovered by an amateur detective from North London. Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street has been investigating the art crime simply as a hobby, and yet he was able to follow the trail that lead him to the famous work - a trail that Scotland Yard missed completely. "
Vaness, Sherlock and John are in the living room that night. Vaness was at the sofa while the boys are in their respective armchairs. She pretends to read a book while she types in a message.
To: Mycroft
We need to talk. ASAP.
Vaness
Vaness got out of Baker Street the next day. She stayed on the sidewalk until a black car stops in front of her. She opened the door and got in, sitting next to 'Anthea'. They were driven to an elegant white painted building which has a brass plaque outside declaring the venue to be THE DIOGENES CLUB. Vaness goes inside and enters a large room which - back when the building used to be a house - was probably a drawing room. A large marble fireplace surrounds an unlit fire and the walls have heavy wooden panelling and ornate white plaster coving. The room contains five small round tables, each with a single armchair beside it, and four of the chairs are currently occupied by smartly dressed middle aged or elderly gentlemen reading newspapers and taking no notice of each other or of the new arrival.
Vaness knew not to speak nor to make a sound. But she didn't know how to find Mycroft! She stood in the middle of the room for a few seconds, not knowing what to do. She then got an idea and walk towards the wall infront of an elderly man. There, on the wall, it a buzzer. She presses it and waited for the security to take her.
Vaness found herself seated in a smaller room, presumably, Mycroft's office there. Mycroft was in the room with her, pouring himself a drink.
"So what is it about that you wanted to speak to me of?" Mycroft asked, turning to face her.
Vaness turn serious. "The consequence of you telling Moriarty everything about Sherlock's childhood."
Mycroft looked guilty, "Ah yes, about that..."
"No need to explain Mycroft." Vaness interrupted him.
Vaness looked down, not knowing where to start. Mycroft noticed her pained expression.
"What will happen?" Mycroft asked.
Vaness sighed, then she told him everything. From Moriarty's break ins, to the trial, the plan to destroy Sherlock's reputation, to the rooftop and Sherlock's plan.
"It will take him two years to dismantle the entirety of Moriarty's web." She told him
Mycroft took everything in. He looked thoughtful for a moment.
"Everything works out well in the end. What's the problem?" He asked.
Vaness looked at him incredulously.
"What's the problem?" She asked in disbelief.
Mycroft finally understood.
"Ah, you'd miss him." He said.
"Not just me." She said.
"I'm afraid there's no way around that." Mycroft said.
Vaness looked angry, she closed her eyes thinking. Finally coming up of something, she faced Mycroft again.
"You could hire assassins, to take care of those that will be targeting us. So when Moriarty kills himself, Sherlock wouldn't have to jump." She said in a hopeful tone.
"And Sherlock will be arrested, trial will go on not only for being a fraud but also for several murders including Moriarty's. And lastly, Moriarty's web will never be dismantled." Mycroft said quietly, like he was afraid it will break Vaness.
Vaness looked down. Staring on the floor. The tears are gathering in her eyes but she refused to let them run down.
"Will you tell John?" Mycroft asked.
"No." Vaness said in a whisper, but Mycroft heard her. "Good things will happen to him in those two years, knowing Sherlock's alive might stop that." She explained.
"You know," Mycroft said, "Everything will have to stay the same, but that doesn't mean you can't give James Moriarty a piece of your mind."
Vaness looked confused, "That could possibly change things."
"Maybe." Mycroft said, "but he is Moriarty, and he already met you. You are already part of his plans."
"He met me, but he didn't know how dangerous I was. I was acting." She replied.
"Then show him how dangerous you are." Mycroft told her.
"He could kill me." She said frowning.
"He already hired an assassin to do so." Mycroft said.
"Why are you telling me this?" She asked.
"Because you already know it. You already plan to do it." Mycroft said knowingly.
"You're right." Vaness sighed.
"You still have a few months left, make the most of it." Mycroft said.
Vaness laughed sarcastically, "Yes, keep telling me my plans."
Silence preceded, Vaness was staring at the floor, and Mycroft just looking blankly at her. Vaness finally composed herself and she stood up.
"I'll go now" she said, Mycroft only nodded. She walked towards the door, then she stopped.
"Will you miss him?" She asked, still facing the door.
Mycroft took a moment to answer, "Yes." He said in a whisper. "Yes I will."
A new newspaper article reads "Top Banker Kidnapped" Outside the banker's house, the rescued man is standing with his arms around his wife and young son and the press film and photograph them while Sherlock, Vaness and John stand uncomfortably nearby.
"Back together with my family after my terrifying ordeal; and we have one person to thank for my deliverance - Sherlock Holmes." The father said.
As the public applaud, the boy smiles and offers a small gift-wrapped box to Sherlock. He takes it and rattles it briefly.
"Tie pin. I don't wear ties." Sherlock said to Vaness and John.
"Shh." John replied.
A photograph of the scene appears in the next edition of the newspaper, headed "Reichenbach hero finds kidnap victim".
New article: "Ricoletti evades capture". In Scotland Yard where D.I. Greg Lestrade is addressing a press conference. Sherlock, Vaness and John stand nearby, and D.S. Sally Donovan and Doctor Anderson are at the back of the room.
"Peter Ricoletti: number one on Interpol's Most Wanted list since 1982. But we got him; and there's one person we have to thank for giving us the decisive leads ... with all his customary diplomacy and tact!" Lestrade said.
Sherlock smiles insincerely towards Greg while John leans closer to the couple and speaks quietly.
"Sarcasm." John said.
"Yes." Sherlock and Vaness said quietly.
As the press applaud, Greg walks over to Sherlock and gives him a gift-wrapped package, smiling cheerfully.
"We all chipped in." Lestrade said.
As Sherlock tears open the wrapping paper, Sally and Anderson grin expectantly. He pulls out a deerstalker hat.
"Oh!" Sherlock said trying to smile.
"Put the hat on!" A reporter said and many agreed.
"Yeah, Sherlock, put it on!" Lestrade said.
Sherlock looks at the reporters as if he'd like to kill them. Vaness squeezed his hand. John clears his throat uncomfortably.
"Just get it over with." John said quietly.
Glowering at him, Sherlock shoves the wrapping paper into his hands, then unhappily puts the hat on his head. Flashbulbs go mad and everyone applauds. At the back of the room, Sally claps with sarcastic delight while Anderson, the douche, grins smugly. Sherlock smiles at the press through gritted teeth and glances at Greg as if promising him a world of pain later.
Some time later, the "Daily Star" prints a World Exclusive on its front page: "Boffin Sherlock solves another" with the strapline:"Hero 'Tec cracks 'unsolvable' case".
221B BAKER STREET.
John is sitting on the sofa reading the papers, Vaness is sitting on the dining table writing a something, while Sherlock, wearing his blue dressing gown over his shirt and trousers, stomps across the room and throws the Daily Star onto the pile of newspapers on the coffee table.
"'Boffin', 'Boffin Sherlock Holmes'" Sherlock said indignantly.
"Everybody gets one." John said.
"One what?" Sherlock asked.
"Tabloid nickname: 'SuBo'; 'Nasty Nick.' Shouldn't worry - I'll probably get one soon." John said.
"Page five, column six, first sentence." Sherlock replied.
John turns to the relevant page. Sherlock goes over to the fireplace, picks up the deerstalker, holds it up and punches it angrily.
"Why is it always the hat photograph?" Sherlock asked.
"'Bachelor John Watson'?" John said looking at the news paper.
"What's mine?" Vaness said not looking up from the paper she's writing on.
"What sort of hat is it anyway?" Sherlock asked, "Page five, column seven, first sentence." Sherlock added.
"'Bachelor'? What the hell are they implying?" John asked and he scanned the newspaper, "Vaness 'Bonnie' Miche" he reads out.
Vaness looked up, "'Bonnie'?" She asked.
"It means beautiful" Sherlock said, "Is it a cap? Why has it got two fronts?" Sherlock asked holding up the hat and twisting it back and forth rapidly.
"It's a deerstalker." John glancing up, he reads more of the article. "Frequently seen in the company of bachelor John Watson ..." he reads.
"Beautiful? That's all they could say? I'm not just beautiful..." Vaness said with a frown.
"You are beautiful." Sherlock told her. "You stalk a deer with a hat? What are you gonna do - throw it?" Sherlock asked.
"... confirmed bachelor John Watson!" John reads looking at another part of the article.
"I know I am but that's not my best quality." Vaness went back to her writing, still with a frown.
"Some sort of death frisbee?" Sherlock said.
"Okay, this is too much. We need to be more careful." John said.
"It's got flaps ... ear flaps. It's an ear hat, John." Sherlock said.
He accurately skims the hat across the room to John, who doesn't have to do more than bend his wrist to catch it.
"What do you mean, "more careful"?" Sherlock asked him.
"He means lay low." Vaness said softly.
"Yes, I mean this isn't a deerstalker now; it's a Sherlock Holmes hat. I mean that you're not exactly a private detective any more." John explained.
He holds his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "You're this far from famous." John said.
"Oh, it'll pass." Sherlock said.
He slumps down into his armchair and folds his hands in the prayer position in front of his mouth.
"It'd better pass. The press will turn," John said. "Sherlock. They always turn, and they'll turn on you." He told Sherlock.
Vaness held her pen tightly. Refusing to look up to the boys.
Sherlock lowers his hands and looks more closely at John.
"It really bothers you." Sherlock said.
"What?" John asked.
"What people say." Sherlock continued.
"Yes." John replied.
"About me? I don't understand - why would it upset you?" Sherlock asked.
John holds his gaze for a moment, then looks away.
"Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourself a little case this week. Stay out of the news." John said.
Sherlock turned to Vaness but she was staring at the paper. "Season 2, Episode 3." She said in a whisper.
Both John and Sherlock looked surprised.
***
TOWER OF LONDON 11:00
Tourists are walking about in the grounds, looking around, talking to the Beefeaters, taking photographs. One tourist wearing jeans, trainers, a light grey jacket and a cap with "London" printed on it and with a union flag on the peak is aiming his camera phone around and taking pictures like all the others, but this person appears to be more interested in the security staff than anything else. The other thing that piques his interest is the sign pointing the way to the Crown Jewels. He lowers his camera, chewing nonchalantly on a piece of gum, and we see that this is none other than Jim Moriarty.
***
At 221B, a phone in the living room trills a text alert. Sherlock is sitting at the table in the kitchen, looking into his microscope. Vaness was now in the sofa, lying down, waiting. John comes along the corridor leading from the bathroom with wet hair, wearing a bathrobe and rubbing the back of his neck with a towel.
"It's your phone Sherlock." John said.
"Mm. Keeps doing that." Sherlock replied disinterestedly.
John walks into the living room, goes past the body in a suit which is hanging by its neck from the ceiling, sits down in his chair and picks up a newspaper. The body sways gently in the breeze.
"So, did you just talk to him for a really long time?" John asked.
Sherlock looks up and glances across to the body of the mannequin.
"Oh. Henry Fishgard never committed suicide." Sherlock said.
He picks up an old hardback book from the table and slams it shut in a flurry of dust before going back to his microscope.
"Bow Street Runners: missed everything." Sherlock continued.
"Pressing case, is it?" John asked.
"They're all pressing 'til they're solved." Sherlock replied.
John looked over to Vaness who was staring at the ceiling.
"You okay Vaness?" He asked.
"I'm fine." She replied.
"You're not." Sherlock said, "You've been staring at that ceiling for half an hour now." Sherlock continued.
John raised an eyebrow at her. Vaness sat up, "Well what do you want me to do?" She asked softly.
"Sit beside me." Sherlock ordered.
Vaness looked surprised. John rolled his eyes at them but he was smiling. Vaness did as she was told. She sat to Sherlock's left side, looking at him strangely. Sherlock took her hand and squeezed it, still looking at the microscope.
***
At the White Tower in the Tower of London, tourists are passing through a metal detector on their way to see the Crown Jewels. A security man gives some items back to a tourist.
"Put this in your bag, please." The security said.
Jim walks through the detector which beeps an alarm.
"Excuse me, sir." The security called him.
Still chewing on his gum, Jim stops and steps back again
"Any metal objects - keys, mobile phones?" The security asked.
Smiling apologetically, Jim takes his phone out of his pocket and puts it into the tray.
"You can go through." The security said.
Jim steps through the detector again, which stays silent this time. The security man slides the tray across and Jim takes the phone again.
Jim walks on and enters the room. He stops at the large display case in the middle of the room and looks at the throne inside the case. On the throne is a red velvet cushion with an ornate crown resting on it. An equally ornate orb is balanced on one arm of the throne and a sceptre rests across the other arm.
As other tourists walk around the case, Jim takes a pair of earphones from his pocket and pokes them into his ears. Bending his head from side to side to crack his neck, he lifts his phone and switches it on, then closes his eyes in bliss, still rolling his head on his neck and spreading his arms either side of him and then slowly beginning to lower them as the Overture to Rossini's "The Thieving Magpie" begins to play.
In the nearby surveillance room, one of the two men watching the security footage from all around the Tower turns to his colleague.
"Fancy a cuppa, then, mate?" One of the surveillance man asked.
"Yeah, why not?" The other replied.
The first man stands up and walks away.
BANK OF ENGLAND 11:00
A man brings a tray containing a cup and saucer and a milk jug into the office of the bank's Director.
"Gilts at seven; Dutch telecoms in freefall. Thank you, Harvey." The bank director said looking at his computer screen.
Harvey puts down the tray onto the table and leaves the room again.
PENTONVILLE PRISON 11:00
The prison's governor, with an enormous "Keep calm and carry on" mug full of tea on his desk, slams a file down onto his desk while several warders sit or stand nearby.
"What do you say: refuse them all parole and bring back the rope. Let's begin." The prisoner governor said.
At the Tower, Jim finishes lowering his arms and then lifts up the phone and scrolls through the app icons on it. He pushes aside the one that has a cartoon of a prisoner with striped prison clothes and standing behind bars, scrolls past the one of a piggy bank with the English flag on it, and selects the one with a crown on it. The icon of the crown unfolds like a padlock being unlocked and digital code begins to stream out into the air, and in the surveillance room alarms begin to beep in warning as some of the TV screens go blank. An automated voice plays into the White Tower.
"This is an emergency. Please leave the building." The voice said.
The tourists start to hurry out of the room. A security guard walks over to Jim, perhaps assuming that he can't hear the alarm through his earphones, and puts a hand onto his shoulder to attract his attention.
"Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave." The security said.
Jim turns and sprays something into his face and he immediately collapses. The security door closes and locks, and Jim takes off his cap and smoothes out his hair. In the surveillance room, the man slams down the cups of tea he was bringing back, grabs a phone and starts to dial.
At Scotland Yard, Sally Donovan hurries across the office and opens the door to Greg's office.
"Sir, there's been a break-in." Donovan said to Lestrade.
Greg has his feet up on the desk and is drinking coffee and eating a pastry.
"Not our division." He said with his mouth full.
"You'll want it." Donovan replied.
At the White Tower, Jim scrolls through the apps on his phone and selects the English piggy bank. The piggy bank breaks open to reveal many gold coins, and digital code streams out into the air. At the Bank of England, the Director looks down at the cup of tea he is holding as the liquid inside begins to shimmer and the building vibrates gently.
"The vault!" The bank director exclaimed.
Alarms blare and his screen flashes the alarm "VAULT OPENING". A graphic on the screen shows the door to the vault swinging slowly open. The Director's jaw drops and he stares in disbelief, his tea cup slowly tilting in his hand until the tea pours out into his lap.
Greg is driving Sally over a bridge across the river with sirens blaring. Sally has just got an update on her phone.
"Hacked into the Tower of bloody London security?! How?!" Lestrade asked loudly in disbelief.
Sally's phone rings and she answers it.
"Tell them we're already on our way." Lestrade said.
"There's been another one; another break-in." Donovan said.
Greg stares across at her while she listens.
"Bank of England!" She exclaimed.
At the White Tower, Jim is chomping on his gum while he flamboyantly scrawls a message onto the glass of the display case with a white crayon. Finishing the message, he draws a smiley face inside the letter"O."
Lifting his phone once more, he selects the app with the prisoner on it. The bars over the prisoner lift away and the striped top which the icon is wearing turns into a plain black one, then the image changes to a keyhole. Digital code streams out into the air. In Pentonville Prison, the governor is just lifting his mug to his mouth when alarms begin to sound. A prison warder bursts into the room.
"Sir, security's down, sir. It's failing!" A prisoner warder said in alarm.
The governor surges to his feet, accidentally sweeping his mug off the table and onto the floor.
On the road, Sally gets another phonecall. Greg looks across to her.
"What is it now?" Lestrade asked.
"Pentonville Prison!" Donovan said.
Greg stares at her in disbelief.
"Oh no!"
At the White Tower, Jim holds his piece of chewing gum between his teeth and pulls the end of it out towards the case and sticks it onto the glass. Leaving the whole piece of gum stuck there, he takes a tiny diamond from a box and, grinning manically, carefully presses the jewel into the gum. Turning away from the case, he slips off his jacket and drops it to the floor, revealing a plain white V-necked T-shirt underneath, then raises his arms upwards either side above his head in an almost balletic flourish. Outside, police cars and vans begin to pour into the Tower grounds. Jim continues to dance around the White Tower while outside, the last of the tourists are hustled out of the building. Pulling black leather mitts onto his hands, Jim goes to the wall and picks up a fire extinguisher.
Outside, armed police leap out of a van and run into the Tower.
Inside, Jim dances dramatically towards the case, raises the fire extinguisher with the bottom end pointed towards the glass and, grinning happily, rams it towards the chewing gum and diamond. The glass shatters around the impact point. The armed police charge through the metal detector, repeatedly setting off the alarm. Jim smashes the extinguisher into the glass a couple more times and eventually the entire pane disintegrates and falls to the floor.
Greg's car screams into the grounds and he and Sally jump out and race into the White Tower. Inside, the armed police disable the lock to the door and it swings open. They charge inside and are greeted by the sight of Jim Moriarty sitting on the throne inside the case, wearing an ermine trimmed robe, the crown on his head, the orb between his knees and holding the sceptre across his lap, with his earphones still in. He has his eyes closed in bliss as the music comes to an end. He opens his eyes and smiles at the new arrivals.
"No rush." Jim said calmly.
***
221B.
Sherlock's phone trills another text alert. John lowers his newspaper.
"I'll get it, shall I?" John said.
Vaness' hold on Sherlock's hand tightened, and he noticed this.
John stands up and walks over to the phone, picking it up and checking the message while Sherlock continues to look into his microscope. John's face slowly fills with shock. He turns and takes the phone into the kitchen, holding it out to Sherlock.
"Here." John said.
"Not now, I'm busy." Sherlock said still looking into the microscope.
"He's back." Vaness said quietly.
Sherlock lifts his head and takes the phone. The message on the screen reads:
Come and play.
Tower Hill.
Jim Moriarty x.
Sherlock's eyes widen and he sinks back on his chair and gazes into space, not letting go of Vaness' hand.
***
Back at the Tower, Jim is smiling calmly as he is being put into the back of a police car. Behind him, Greg and Sally come out of the building and watch, then Greg looks down at Jim's phone which he is holding.
Later, Sherlock, Vaness and John have arrived at the Tower and they are watching the recorded security footage taken from behind Jim as he sticks the gum onto the glass. From a distance it's not clear what he then pushes into the gum.
"That glass is tougher than anything." Lestrade said.
"Not tougher than crystallised carbon. He used a diamond." Sherlock replied.
Greg adjusts the footage, which shifts to a recording taken from the other side of the glass. The footage also goes into reverse, showing the glass rising back up into place before it shattered. As Jim pulls back the fire extinguisher again and the glass becomes whole, the message which he scrawled onto it becomes clear. He deliberately wrote the words backwards on the glass so that they would be seen from the camera on the other side of the case. With the smiley face inside the "O," the message reads:
GET
SHERLOCK
John and Vaness turns and stares at Sherlock but his eyes are fixed on the screen.
The "Daily Express" has somehow obtained the security image with the message clear on the glass, and has run it on its front page with the headline: "Crime of the Century?"
Some time later a new front page headline reads: "Jewel Thief on trial at Bailey"
221B. John is standing in front of the mirror in the living room. He is wearing a suit and finishes tying his tie before putting on his jacket. Near the sofa, Vaness is buttoning up Sherlock's jacket while Sherlock was watching John's reflection. Sherlock leads the way downstairs and goes to the front door, he was holding Vaness close to him, then stops and turns to the side to allow John to pass them and reach out towards the door.
"Ready?" John asked.
"Yes./No." Sherlock and Vaness said respectively.
Bracing himself, John opens the door. Police officers are trying to hold back the large crowd of journalists who immediately start photographing the three and calling out questions as the police clear the way and allow them through to the waiting police car. Sherlock was holding Vaness protectively and John points Sherlock towards the nearest rear door of the car.
"Get in." John told them.
As Vaness and Sherlock does as instructed, John goes round the back and gets in the other side and the car pulls away and races off with its sirens wailing.
***
At the Old Bailey, Jim is in a cell wearing a smart light grey suit, white shirt and pale grey tie and silver tie pin with matching grey handkerchief in the breast pocket. A prison guard is checking the handcuffs which shackle him to two nearby officers. Not long afterwards and surrounded by prison officers, he is being escorted along the corridors towards the court. As he walks along, a small smile begins to creep onto his face.
***
The police car is just going around Trafalgar Square.
"Remember ..." John said.
"Yes." Sherlock said instantly.
"Remember ..." John said insistently.
"Yes." Sherlock replied even more quickly.
John looks to Vaness in frustration, she squeezes Sherlock's hand. Johnthen goes for broke and speaks quickly.
"Remember what they told you: don't try to be clever ..." John said.
"No." Sherlock said talking over him.
" ... and please, just keep it simple and brief." John continued.
"God forbid the star witness at the trial should come across as intelligent." Sherlock said.
"'Intelligent,' fine; let's give 'smart-arse' a wide berth." John replied.
There's a slight pause.
"I'll just be myself." Sherlock said.
"Are you listening to me?!" John asked irritated.
Vaness sighed, there was no point, it was Moriarty that's why Sherlock was like this, but she had to try.
"Sherlock... please." She said softly.
Sherlock wasn't looking at her.
"Sherlock?" She called.
"I'll try." Sherlock replied.
"Thank you." Vaness kissed his hand.
***
At the Old Bailey Jim is marched up the stairs into the courtroom, two prison officers holding him by the shoulders. Jim and his prison escort reach the top of the stairs and he is turned sideways and walked into the dock. As a female prison officer comes across to check his restraints, he turns his head and murmurs into her ear.
"Would you mind slipping your hand into my pocket?" Jim said softly.
The officer looks at one of her male colleagues, who nods in agreement. Looking rather uncomfortable, she slides her fingers into Jim's trouser pocket and pulls out the contents while Jim breathes very close to her face and gazes into her eyes before poking out his tongue. She puts what she has found in his pocket - a piece of chewing gum - onto his tongue and he draws his tongue back in and begins to chew, smiling at her creepily.
"Thanks." Jim said.
***
Sherlock is in the toilets at the Old Bailey washing his hands. Vaness and John already went to their destination.
"Crown versus Moriarty - please proceed to Court Ten." A voice through announced.
As Sherlock turns off the taps, a woman standing behind him and wearing a deerstalker hat stares at him in awestruck amazement. Her bag slips out of her fingers and drops to the floor.
"You're him." The woman said.
Sherlock sees that she's also wearing an "I <3 Sherlock" badge on her jacket.
"Wrong toilet." Sherlock said flatly.
"I'm a big fan." She said.
"Evidently." Sherlock said turning towards her.
"I read your cases; follow them all."
She steps closer, gazing at him adoringly.
"Sign my shirt, would you?" She said.
She peels back her jacket to reveal that her blouse is opened quite low and she is showing a lot of cleavage. She offers him a pen which she already has in her hand.
"There are two types of fans." Sherlock said.
"Oh?" She asked.
" 'Catch me before I kill again' - Type A ..." Sherlock said.
"Uh-huh. What's Type B?" She asked.
"'Your bedroom's just a taxi ride away.'" Sherlock answered.
She grins, her eyes still locked on his.
"Guess which one I am." She asked
Sherlock runs his eyes down her body and does a speed deduction:
pressure marks
pocket
ink
"Neither." Sherlock said.
"Really?" She asked blinking a little nervously.
"No. You're not a fan at all." Sherlock said.
He looks at the indentations in her skin just below her right wrist.
"Those marks on your forearm: edge of a desk. You've been typing in a hurry, probably. Pressure on; facing a deadline." Sherlock deduced.
"That all?" She asked looking away.
"And there's a smudge of ink on your wrist; and a bulge in your left jacket pocket." Sherlock continued.
Sherlock and the girl look down to her pocket from which is protruding the edge of a dictaphone, which has a red light shining on it showing that it's recording.
"Bit of a giveaway." She said.
"The smudge is deliberate, to see if I'm as good as they say I am." Sherlock said.
He lifts her hand and sniffs the ink on her wrist.
"Hmm. Oil-based, used in newspaper print, but drawn on with an index finger; your finger." Sherlock said.
"Hmm!" She replied.
"Journalist. Unlikely you'd get your hands dirty at the press. You put that there to test me." Sherlock continued his deduction.
"Wow, I'm liking you!" She said with an amazed look.
"You mean I'd make a great feature: 'Sherlock Holmes - the man beneath the hat.'" Sherlock replied.
"Kitty ..." she takes off the hat, "... Riley. Pleased to meet you." Kitty said.
She offers her hand for him to shake.
"No. I'm just saving you the trouble of asking. No, I won't give you an interview; no, I don't want the money." Sherlock said.
Pushing past her, he heads for the door. She chases after him.
"You and John Watson - just platonic? Or is Vaness Miche really a cover up? Can I put you down for a "no" there, as well?" Kitty asked.
She stops him from opening the door and gets in his way, stepping well into his personal space. He breathes loudly and angrily.
"There's all sorts of gossip in the press about you. Sooner or later you're gonna need someone on your side ..." Kitty said.
Reaching into her pocket, she holds up her business card and then tucks it into his breast pocket.
"... someone to set the record straight." She continued.
"And you think you're the girl for that job, do you?" Sherlock asked smiling sarcastically.
"I'm smart, and you can trust me, totally." Kitty said.
"Smart, okay: investigative journalist. Good. Well, look at me and tell me what you see." Sherlock told her.
She stares at him blankly, perhaps a little overwhelmed by the way he is swaying gently in front of her.
"If you're that skilful, you don't need an interview. You can just read what you need." Sherlock continued.
She looks awkward and can't continue to meet his eyes.
"No? Okay, my turn." Sherlock said.
He paces around her and looks her over.
"I look at you and I see someone who's still waiting for their first big scoop so that their editor will notice them. You're wearing an expensive skirt but it's been re-hemmed twice; only posh skirt you've got. And your nails: you can't afford to do them that often. I see someone who's hungry. I don't see smart, and I definitely don't see trustworthy, but I'll give you a quote if you like - three little words." Sherlock said quick fire.
He reaches down and takes the dictaphone from her pocket, holding it up to his mouth as she steps closer hopefully.
"You ... repel ... me." He said deliberately slow.
He turns and leaves the room.
OLD BAILEY, COURT TEN.
Sherlock has been called to give his evidence and is standing in the witness box. Jim is in the dock opposite him, nonchalantly chewing on his gum. John and Vaness are sitting in the public gallery upstairs.
"A 'consulting criminal."" The prosecuting barrister said.
"Yes." Sherlock said.
"Your words. Can you expand on that answer?" The prosecuting barrister asked.
"James Moriarty is for hire." Sherlock said.
"A tradesman?" The prosecuting barrister asked.
"Yes." Sherlock answered.
"But not the sort who'd fix your heating." The prosecuting barrister said.
"No, the sort who'd plant a bomb or stage an assassination, but I'm sure he'd make a pretty decent job of your boiler." Sherlock replied.
There's muffled laughter from some people in the court, and the prosecuting barrister tries to hide her smile.
"Would you describe him as ..." she was saying but Sherlock interrupted her.
"Leading." Sherlock said.
"What?" She asked.
"Can't do that. You're leading the witness..." He looks towards the defending barrister. "...He'll object and the judge will uphold."
The judge looks exasperated.
"Mr Holmes." The judge said.
"Ask me how. Howwould I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him? Do they not teach you this?" Sherlock told the prosecuting barrister.
"Mr Holmes, we're fine without your help." The judge said sternly.
Kitty comes into the public gallery from behind John and Vaness. John looks round at her as she finds a seat. Vaness had the urge to strangle her then and there but she resisted.
"How would you describe this man - his character?" The prosecuting barrister asked.
"First mistake..." He raises his eyes and locks his gaze onto Jim. "...James Moriarty isn't a man at all - he's a spider; a spider at the centre of a web - a criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances." Sherlock said .
Jim almost imperceptibly nods his head as if approving of the description. The prosecuting barrister clears her throat awkwardly.
"And how long ..." she was asking.
"No, no, don't-don't do that. That's really not a good question." Sherlock interrupted closing his eyes in exasperation.
"Mr Holmes." The judge said angrily.
"How long have I known him? Not really your best line of enquiry. We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun; he tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something." He said the last part sarcastically.
Jim raises his eyebrows in an "ooh!" expression.
"Miss Sorrel, are you seriously claiming this man is an expert, after knowing the accused for just five minutes?" The judge asked the prosecuting barrister.
"Two minutes would have made me an expert. Five was ample." Sherlock said.
"Mr Holmes, that's a matter for the jury." The judge said.
"Oh, really?" Sherlock said.
His eyes turn towards the jury box. John raises his hand to his head in an all-too-recognisable "oh, shit, NO!" gesture. Vaness wasn't an exemption, she facepalmed then shook her heqd in exasperation. Sherlock turns the full force of his gaze onto the twelve people sitting in the jury box and has deduced all of them within a couple of seconds.
"One librarian; two teachers; two high-pressured jobs, probably the City." He deduced.
He focuses on the woman at the far left of the front row. She has a notebook resting on the ledge in front of her and is writing in shorthand.
"The foreman's a medical secretary, trained abroad judging by her shorthand." Sherlock said.
"Mr Holmes!" The judge said loudly.
"Seven are married and two are having an affair - with each other, it would seem! Oh, and they've just had tea and biscuits." Sherlock said scanning rings on the jury members' fingers.
He turns to the judge.
"Would you like to know who ate the wafer?" Sherlock asked sarcastically.
"Mr Holmes. You've been called here to answer Miss Sorrel's questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual prowess." The judge said angrily.
Sherlock takes a breath but can't help looking up towards Vaness and John and smiling a little at the acknowledgement of his 'intellectual prowess.' John stares at him sternly. Vaness pursed her lips to stop herself from smiling back.
"Keep your answers brief and to the point. Anything else will be treated as contempt." Thw judge said.
Sherlock raises his eyes in a 'We're surrounded by idiots' type way. Jim smiles slightly as if agreeing.
"Do you think you could survive for just a few minuteswithout showing off?" The judge asked.
Sherlock pauses while he gives the question some thought, then opens his mouth and draws in a breath. Vaness lost all amusement and sighed.
***
Shortly afterwards, a prison officer marches Sherlock into one of the cells under the courts and shoves him inside, slamming the door shut behind him. A recess has apparently been called in the trial and so a little later two more officers walk Jim to the adjoining cell and lock him inside. As if sensing each other, the two men turn and look at the wall separating them. Jim's expression slowly becomes murderous.
***
Some time later Sherlock is being released. While he signs for his personal property, Vaness and John are standing on each side of him leaning back against the desk with his arms folded.
"What did I say? I said, 'Don't get clever.'" John said.
"I can't just turn it on and off like a tap." Sherlock replied.
"Clearly." Vaness said.
Taking the bag of items from the custody officer, he offers Vaness his arm and they turn to John as they begin to walk away.
"Well?" Sherlock asked.
"Well what?" John asked.
"You were there for the whole thing, up in the gallery, start to finish." Sherlock said.
"Like you said it would be..." Referring to Jim's defending barrister, "...He sat on his backside, never even stirred."
"Moriarty's not mounting any defence." Sherlock said, he turned to Vaness, "And you?" He asked.
"You didn't tell me to do anything." Vaness told him.
"Yes, but I sensed some murderous aura from your direction." Sherlock said with a smirk.
John turned to Vaness questioningly. The murderous aura returned.
"Well," she said, "I was able to stop myself from strangling a certain cat to death."
She turned to face the boys with a embarrassed smile.
"Cat?" John asked.
"Oh right, that's an insult to all cats." She replied.
"Kitty Riley." Sherlock said in disgust.
"Journalists." Vaness explained to John. 'Aspiring Rita Skeeter' she said to herself.
221B.
They walk into the living room.
"Bank of England, Tower of London, Pentonville. Three of the most secure places in the country and six weeks ago Moriarty breaks in, no-one knows how or why." John said.
John and Vaness sits down in their respective armchair while Sherlock begins to pace.
"All we know is ..." John trails off.
"... he ended up in custody." Sherlock finished.
He stops and turns to John. John takes a breath.
"Don't do that." John said.
Vaness held back a giggle.
"Do what?" Sherlock asked.
"The look." John said.
"Look?" Sherlock asked.
"You're doing the look again." John told him
"Well, I can't see it, can I?" Sherlock replied.
John points to the mirror above the fireplace as if Sherlock's an idiot for not realising it's there. Sherlock turns his head and looks at his reflection.
"It's my face." Sherlock said.
"Yes, and it's doing a thing. You're doing a 'we both know what's really going on here' face." John said.
"Well, we do." Sherlock said.
"No. You and Vaness do, I don't, which is why I find The Face so annoying." John said pointing at Vaness.
"If Moriarty wanted the Jewels, he'd have them. If he wanted those prisoners free, they'd be out on the streets. The only reason he's still in a prison cell right now is because he chose to be there." Sherlock explained.
He starts to pace again.
"Somehow this is part of his scheme." He said.
***
NEXT DAY, OLD BAILEY.
"Mr Crayhill, can we have your first witness?" The judge asked Moriarty's defending barrister.
The defending barrister rises to his feet.
"Your Honour, we're not calling any witnesses." He said.
There are cries of surprise around the court, and John - sitting in the public gallery - frowns in confusion.
"I don't follow. You've entered a plea of Not Guilty." The judge said.
"Nevertheless, my client is offering no evidence. The defence rests." The defending barrister said.
He sits down. Jim purses his lips ruefully at the judge, then turns, looks up towards the public gallery and shrugs.
***
Sherlock - who chose to stay at home - sits sideways on the sofa with his back against the arm nearest the window. Vaness was sitting on her armchair next to him. Sherlock was wearing his blue dressing gown over his clothes, he softly recites the only words that the judge can possibly say in his summing-up speech.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. James Moriarty stands accused of several counts of attempted burglary, crimes which - if he's found guilty - will elicit a very long custodial sentence; and yet his legal team has chosen to offer no evidence whatsoever to support their plea. I find myself in the unusual position of recommending a verdict wholeheartedly. You must find him guilty." Sherlock said softly.
Sherlock closes his eyes.
"Guilty." He said in a whisper.
Vaness stared at him, holding his hand.
***
"You must find him guilty." The judge said.
The court adjourns at 10:42. At 10:50 John is sitting on a bench just outside the courtroom when the Clerk of the Court hurries out of a side room.
"They're coming back." He said.
John looks at his watch.
"That's six minutes." John said.
John took into account how long it took the jury to leave the court and go to their allocated room.
"Surprised it took them that long, to be honest. There's a queue for the loo." The man replied.
He hurries into the court. John stands up, takes a moment to brace himself and then follows. A few minutes later the Clerk rises to his feet in the courtroom and turns to face the jury.
"Have you reached a verdict on which you all agree?" The clerk asked.
One of the jury members lowers his head and shakes it in tiny despairing motions as the foreman gets to her feet and stares unhappily at the Clerk.
***
AN
Sorry for the late update, I lost internet connection for the past days.
Let's pray for the family and friends of Chadwick Boseman. Rest in power, King.