Sherlock - The Game Is On!

The Reichenbach Fall- Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Scotland Yard - Midday

Greg hands a sheet of paper to Sherlock as he leads him, John and I into the department's main office. "This fax arrived an hour ago." There is a large handwritten note on the paper saying:

HURRY UP THEY'RE DYING!

Handing the note to John, Greg speaks up: "What have you got for us?"

"Need to find a place in the city where all five of these things intersect."

"Chalk, asphalt, brick dust, vegetation... What the hell is this? Chocolate?"

"I think we're looking for a disused sweet factory." I spoke up. "We need to narrow that down. A sweet factory with asphalt?"

"No. Too general. Need something more specific. Chalk; Chalky clay, that's a far thinner band of geology." I memorise the map of London which is overlaying with the names of towns. I begin to focus on main areas. "Brick dust?" Greg questions "Building site." Sherlock mumbles. "Bricks from the 1950s." I finished. "There's thousands of building sites in London."

"I've got people out looking." Sherlock exasperated, frustrated by the distraction. "So have I."

"Homeless network. Faster than the police." I clipped. A phone trills a text alert, followed by several more. I clench my fists, really frustrated. Sherlock brandishes his phone and starts to compare images to his mind palace. One of the photos, a close up shot of some purple flowers, attracts my particular attention. "Sherlock, John."

"Rhododendron ponticum. It matches." Sherlock agrees. "Addlestone." I responded. "What?"

"There's a mile of disused factories between the river and the park. It matches everything." Sherlock abbreviated. Turning around, we hurry out the office with John in hot pursuit...

Several police cars race to a disused factory and the police officers, together with Sherlock, John and I run inside the dark building. Everyone switches on flashlights and Sally coordinates the police as they start to search in all directions. "You, look over there. Look everywhere. Okay, spread out, please. Spread out." Her voice echoes.  Greg leads another team, including us into another part of the factory. Greg directs his officers. "Look in there. Quietly. Quietly."

As we make our way deeper into the factory, Sherlock finds a large number of empty sweet wrappers scattered on the floor around a candle on a plate. I touch the wick of the candle. "This was alight moments ago." I muttered. "They're still here." He spoke loudly. "Sweet wrappers. What's he been feeding you?" Picking one of the wrappers up, Sherlock inspects it more closely. "Hansel and Gretel." Holding the wrapper closer to the beam of his torch, he sniffs the paper before licking it. We look at the wrapper in startled realisation. "Mercury."

"What?"

"The papers: they're painted with mercury." I abbreviate. John groans. "Lethal. The more of the stuff they ate..."

"It was killing them." John tried to conclude. "But it's not enough to kill them on its own. Taken in large enough quantities, eventually it would kill them." The police continue searching the building but Sherlock is now locked onto his thoughts. "He didn't need to be there for the execution. Murder by remote control. He could be a thousand miles away."

"The hungrier they got, the more they ate... The faster they died?" I question, stupidly and unsurely. Sherlock grins. "Neat."

"Sherlock." John warns. "Over here!" We all run in the direction of Sally's voice. Finding the children...

Back at Scotland Yard, Sherlock begins to pace, John sits nearby and I was tapping my fingers on my knee. The door to the office opens and Sally and Greg come out. "Right, then. The professionals have finished. If the amateurs wanna go in and have their turn..." Donovan spoke sarcastically. "You better watch your tongue." I threaten. "Now, remember, she's in shock and she's just seven years old, so anything you can do to..."

"Not be myself." Sherlock finished. "Yeah. Might be helpful." Lestrade agreed. Sherlock looks round to us, doing everything but roll his eyes. He reaches up and flattens the collar of his coat before leading us into the office. The little girl was sat by the table looking down into her lap. A female liaison officer sat beside her stroking her arm reassuringly. "Claudette, I..."

Sherlock began to speak as the little girl lifts up her head. However, after taking one look at him she begins to scream. "No, I know it's been hard for you..." Claudette continues screaming and scrambles to get away while pointing at him. "Claudette, listen to me..."

"Out. Get out!" Lestrade shouts. Pulling on his arm he bundles Sherlock out of the room as the girl's screams continue. Whilst Lestrade gets some officers to calm the child down. Sherlock and I stand at the window of another office looking out into the night through the slats of the Venetian blinds. "Sherlock, I'm scared." I spoke after several minutes of unbroken silence. "Why?"

"No good is going to come out of this. Moriarty is breaking you down and it's started today. Your reputation is beginning to break and it's started with that little girl screaming, terrified by you." I said pointing to the end of the offices. Looking away from Sherlock I try to steady my thumping heart. "I don't... I don't want to lose you. I can't." I whisper. Feeling his hands on my face, he lifts my chin up. "Michelle, I promise you, you won't lose me. I promise." I give him a wobbly smile. He surrounds me in a hug, wrapping his coat around me whilst I clasp onto him with every fibre of my being.

Swaying us side to side, I notice light in my peripheral vision. Turning around we both notice that the building opposite us have their lights on. Piercing my eyes to each floor I notice spray paint has been applied to three of the office windows on the second floor:

I O U

"Well that's just confirmed my thoughts." I mumbled. The lights shut off just as Lestrade walks over to us. "Well, don't let it get to you. I always feel like screaming when you walk into a room! In fact, so do most people." I smile, half heartedly. "Come on." Taking our leave with Lestrade leading, Sally stops us. "Brilliant work you did, finding those kids from just a footprint. It's really amazing."

"Thank you."

"Unbelievable." Sherlock hesitates momentarily, I squeeze his hand to continue on. Walking out I spoke warningly: "Sherlock." He does nothing but squeeze my hand. "Ah. You okay?" John asked. "Thinking." A taxi pulls up at the curb. "This is my cab. You two get the next one."

"Why?"

"You might talk." He concludes. Opening the cab door he stops and spins around. I look up to him, with tears building in my eyes. Pulling me roughly to him, he kisses me with such fury. Such passion. So much love. Love. Pulling himself away he gently brushes a stray tear away before climbing into the taxi.