Sherlock - The Game Is On!

The Reichenbach Fall- Five

Chapter Five

Old Bailey, court ten - Midday

Sherlock was the first to be called up to give his evidence standing in the witness box. Jim stood in the dock opposite him, nonchalantly chewing on his gum. John was sat in the public gallery upstairs. I stood along with Sherlock after being called but stayed silent. "A 'consulting criminal.' You say?"

"Yes."

"Your words. Can you expand on that answer?" The Prosecuting Barrister asks. "James Moriarty is for hire."

"A tradesman?"

"Yes."

"But not the sort who'd fix your heating."

"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." He dismisses. From the jury we could hear a muffle of laughters dissipating. Even the prosecuting barrister tries to hide her smile.

"My Lady, would you describe him as..." I interrupted. "Leading."

"What?" I straightened up now aside of Sherlock. "Can't do that. You're leading the witness." Sherlock looks towards the defending barrister. "He'll object and the judge will uphold." I stated. Sherlock caresses my hand gently.

"My Lady. This is your warning." The Judge states, exasperated. Sherlock looks towards the prosecuting barrister. "Ask her how. How would she describe him? What opinion have we formed of him? Do they not teach you this?"

"Mr Holmes, we're fine without your help." The judge dismisses, rudely. "How would you describe this man, his character?" I look towards Sherlock, giving him the go ahead to respond. "First mistake." My gaze grew towards the man in question. "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 concludes.

Jim imperceptibly nods his head as if approving of the description. The prosecuting barrister clears her throat awkwardly. "And how long..." I start talking over her. "How long have we known him? Not really your best line of enquiry." Sherlock continues the process. "We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun; He tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something." The last sentence dripped from his mouth rather sarcastically. Moriarty raises his brows.

"Miss Sorrel, are you seriously claiming this man and Lady are experts after knowing the accused for just five minutes?"

"Two minutes would have made me an expert. Which it did however, five was ample." I spoke up. "My Lady, that's a matter for the jury."

"Oh, really?" I stated, suggestively. My eyes land towards the jury box. John raises his hand to his head in an all-too-recognisable 'God help us' mixed with his 'No' gesture. Sherlock turns the full force of his gaze onto the twelve people sitting in the jury box. "One librarian, two teachers, two high-pressured jobs, probably the City." I begin to focus on the woman from the far left of the front row. "The foreman's a medical secretary, trained abroad judging by her shorthand." I deduced aloud.

"Lady Phillips!"

"Seven are married and two are having an affair with each other, it would seem! Oh, and they've just had tea and biscuits. Would you like to know who ate the wafer?" Sherlock finished. "Mr Holmes. Lady Phillips. You've both been called here to answer Miss Sorrel's questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual powers."

I sigh inwardly whilst Sherlock takes a breath but can't help looking up towards John and smiling a little. John stares at him sternly. "Keep your answers brief and to the point. Anything else will be treated as contempt." Sherlock makes a gesture to Moriarty and I, which for once we all agree on. 'We're surrounded by idiots' Moriarty smiles showing he agrees.

"Do you think you could survive for just a few minutes without showing off?" The judge hisses out. Sherlock pauses while he gives the question some thought, then opens his mouth and draws in a breath.

Shortly afterwards, a prison officer marches Sherlock and I into one of the cells under the courts. 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 we're all sensing each other, we turn and look at the wall separating us. Jim's expression slowly becomes murderous, whilst my gaze stays steady.