"Vendetta" Part 7
One or two more chapters and this will be done!
Start from the beginning here.
Sherlock stayed on the edges as Lestrade worked with the local forensics team to verify all of his conclusions, texting back and forth with John and trying to get him to leave work early.
For the last time, Sherlock, I’m the only doctor on hand until 5. LET IT GO - J
Sherlock was about to respond when a new text interrupted him.
Hey, Sherlock. Mike here. Thought I should let you know: some fellow was here asking for Molly, saying he was her brother. I don’t remember her ever talking about a brother, do you? I didn’t tell him where she was.
He paused, his racing thoughts going into a higher gear.
What did he look like? -SH
Shorter than John, red-haired, short-sighted. Why?
You did the right thing. I’ll take it from here -SH
John, imperative that you leave as soon as possible to check on Molly. Assassin actively looking for her -SH
He stared at his mobile, waiting for some kind of reply. When none came, he tried again.
Please, John. I’ll text her to stay inside, but please -SH
After an agonizing three minutes and twelve seconds, his mobile vibrated.
I’ve got someone coming to relieve me. I can leave as soon as she gets here. - J
Sherlock let out a breath in relief and began typing again.
Molly, vital that you stay inside. Case proceeding but have reason to believe that assassin is searching for you. John arriving soon -SH
He was about to drop his mobile into his pocket again and start prying Lestrade away from investigating an obvious suicide when it chimed unexpectedly.
Message delivery failed.
He felt a chill down his spine at those words. He moved further away from the feed shed and dialled Molly’s number. As it rang on the other end, Sherlock began pacing, his eyes darting around the stable yard. “Come on, Molly!”
“Sorry, can’t pick up at the moment. Please leave a message and I’ll ring you back.”
“Molly, it’s Sherlock. My text didn’t go through. Stay indoors, Lestrade and I are leaving Cheltenham as soon as possible and John should be there shortly. I have reason to believe you’re in danger. Call or text me right away. Don’t answer the door for anyone!”
He hung up the phone and made a beeline for Lestrade. “We need to leave now!”
*****
“You’re sure, Red? You’re sure that you can trace where she is and finish the job today?”
“I’m positive. Her boss at the hospital was no help at all, but I chatted up the nurses. She’s got some bloke always hanging around the lab, they figure she’s staying with him if she’s not home. Funny name, should be easy to track down. Sherlock Holmes.”
The silence on the other end of the line unnerved him. “You there?”
“Yes. I’ve heard of him. I know he’s in Marylebone. But you’ll have to be very fast. You are wanted for questioning in the incident at the hospital.”
“I got a plan. I just need to get there.”
“His address is 221B Baker Street. Describe your plan. I want to make sure it will work.”
*****
The late winter sky was darkening outside. Molly emerged from her second bath of the day, redolent in jasmine and feeling properly pampered. Her stomach rumbled but she told it sternly to behave. A, John is bringing Indian which is always a large meal and B, do you really want to poke around in Sherlock’s chiller? She glanced around for something to throw on and picked up the nearest thing, one of Sherlock’s dressing gowns.
Towelling her hair, she moved to retrieve her mobile, left to charge while she bathed. She switched it on to check for messages, flicking through email first. She opened the one from Mike Stamford and smiled.
Molly, thought I would let you know. Lucie Winston is off life support and stable. They’ll probably be able to drop critical from her status in a few days. Hope you’re recovering well. Any chance you’ll be ready to come back Monday? Mike
She answered that one and sorted the rest. Then she moved on to voicemail, rolling her eyes at her oldest sister’s tirade about the dangers of a big city like London. The last one made her pause. If she didn’t know better, she would swear Sherlock actually sounded worried about her.
She hesitated, debating whether to simply text or to actually call him back, when the buzzer for the front door made her jump. She waited, listening for Mrs Hudson to answer it, but after a minute the buzzer sounded again, followed by a voice.
“Delivery from Mickey’s! 221B, you there?”
That’s not right. Sherlock said John was bringing Indian. Mickey’s does fish and chips.
“Come on, luvs! It’s getting cold!”
Molly ran into Sherlock’s bedroom and climbed into his wardrobe, making room to sit behind his suits, and pulled the door shut. She brought up her phone, silenced it, and began typing.
Someone’s at the door! Where are you?
About to cross A406. Still 20 minutes away. Stay upstairs. I’ll text John. -SH
Unless you forgot key, assassin is knocking on our door. Hurry -SH
*****
Sherlock snapped at Lestrade, “Kavanagh is likely outside 221B right now!”
Lestrade tossed his mobile at Sherlock. “Get Sally and have her send reinforcements.” He flipped the switch to power the lights and siren and stomped the accelerator.
*****
Red tried again, putting all his effort into keeping his role. There were entirely too many people on the street for his comfort. He wished his employer had not talked him out of simply putting another bomb on the doorstep, but it was a fair thing to point out how easily it would be connected to the hospital. The gun in his jacket pocket weighed heavily. He hated using guns. They were too personal-one had to see one’s target to shoot them. He preferred traps that allowed him to be far away from his hit.
“Do us a favour! If I take this back they’ll make me pay for it!” He knocked on the door again, glaring up at the lights in the windows.
*****
John was trudging up Glentworth Street, almost to Melcombe, when his mobile chirped. He juggled the bags of takeaway into one hand and pulled it out. Upon reading the words on the screen, he paused, stared, then took off at a run.
Though traffic was light, he still had to weave through people at times. He was just about to careen left onto Baker Street when he heard someone call his name.
“Mrs Hudson! Molly’s in trouble-don’t go near, take these and find a constable! Tell him your friend’s being harassed by an ex! Go!” He thrust the bags at her and began running again.
******************************************
As always, comments are most welcome!
Start from the beginning here.
Sherlock stayed on the edges as Lestrade worked with the local forensics team to verify all of his conclusions, texting back and forth with John and trying to get him to leave work early.
For the last time, Sherlock, I’m the only doctor on hand until 5. LET IT GO - J
Sherlock was about to respond when a new text interrupted him.
Hey, Sherlock. Mike here. Thought I should let you know: some fellow was here asking for Molly, saying he was her brother. I don’t remember her ever talking about a brother, do you? I didn’t tell him where she was.
He paused, his racing thoughts going into a higher gear.
What did he look like? -SH
Shorter than John, red-haired, short-sighted. Why?
You did the right thing. I’ll take it from here -SH
John, imperative that you leave as soon as possible to check on Molly. Assassin actively looking for her -SH
He stared at his mobile, waiting for some kind of reply. When none came, he tried again.
Please, John. I’ll text her to stay inside, but please -SH
After an agonizing three minutes and twelve seconds, his mobile vibrated.
I’ve got someone coming to relieve me. I can leave as soon as she gets here. - J
Sherlock let out a breath in relief and began typing again.
Molly, vital that you stay inside. Case proceeding but have reason to believe that assassin is searching for you. John arriving soon -SH
He was about to drop his mobile into his pocket again and start prying Lestrade away from investigating an obvious suicide when it chimed unexpectedly.
Message delivery failed.
He felt a chill down his spine at those words. He moved further away from the feed shed and dialled Molly’s number. As it rang on the other end, Sherlock began pacing, his eyes darting around the stable yard. “Come on, Molly!”
“Sorry, can’t pick up at the moment. Please leave a message and I’ll ring you back.”
“Molly, it’s Sherlock. My text didn’t go through. Stay indoors, Lestrade and I are leaving Cheltenham as soon as possible and John should be there shortly. I have reason to believe you’re in danger. Call or text me right away. Don’t answer the door for anyone!”
He hung up the phone and made a beeline for Lestrade. “We need to leave now!”
*****
“You’re sure, Red? You’re sure that you can trace where she is and finish the job today?”
“I’m positive. Her boss at the hospital was no help at all, but I chatted up the nurses. She’s got some bloke always hanging around the lab, they figure she’s staying with him if she’s not home. Funny name, should be easy to track down. Sherlock Holmes.”
The silence on the other end of the line unnerved him. “You there?”
“Yes. I’ve heard of him. I know he’s in Marylebone. But you’ll have to be very fast. You are wanted for questioning in the incident at the hospital.”
“I got a plan. I just need to get there.”
“His address is 221B Baker Street. Describe your plan. I want to make sure it will work.”
*****
The late winter sky was darkening outside. Molly emerged from her second bath of the day, redolent in jasmine and feeling properly pampered. Her stomach rumbled but she told it sternly to behave. A, John is bringing Indian which is always a large meal and B, do you really want to poke around in Sherlock’s chiller? She glanced around for something to throw on and picked up the nearest thing, one of Sherlock’s dressing gowns.
Towelling her hair, she moved to retrieve her mobile, left to charge while she bathed. She switched it on to check for messages, flicking through email first. She opened the one from Mike Stamford and smiled.
Molly, thought I would let you know. Lucie Winston is off life support and stable. They’ll probably be able to drop critical from her status in a few days. Hope you’re recovering well. Any chance you’ll be ready to come back Monday? Mike
She answered that one and sorted the rest. Then she moved on to voicemail, rolling her eyes at her oldest sister’s tirade about the dangers of a big city like London. The last one made her pause. If she didn’t know better, she would swear Sherlock actually sounded worried about her.
She hesitated, debating whether to simply text or to actually call him back, when the buzzer for the front door made her jump. She waited, listening for Mrs Hudson to answer it, but after a minute the buzzer sounded again, followed by a voice.
“Delivery from Mickey’s! 221B, you there?”
That’s not right. Sherlock said John was bringing Indian. Mickey’s does fish and chips.
“Come on, luvs! It’s getting cold!”
Molly ran into Sherlock’s bedroom and climbed into his wardrobe, making room to sit behind his suits, and pulled the door shut. She brought up her phone, silenced it, and began typing.
Someone’s at the door! Where are you?
About to cross A406. Still 20 minutes away. Stay upstairs. I’ll text John. -SH
Unless you forgot key, assassin is knocking on our door. Hurry -SH
*****
Sherlock snapped at Lestrade, “Kavanagh is likely outside 221B right now!”
Lestrade tossed his mobile at Sherlock. “Get Sally and have her send reinforcements.” He flipped the switch to power the lights and siren and stomped the accelerator.
*****
Red tried again, putting all his effort into keeping his role. There were entirely too many people on the street for his comfort. He wished his employer had not talked him out of simply putting another bomb on the doorstep, but it was a fair thing to point out how easily it would be connected to the hospital. The gun in his jacket pocket weighed heavily. He hated using guns. They were too personal-one had to see one’s target to shoot them. He preferred traps that allowed him to be far away from his hit.
“Do us a favour! If I take this back they’ll make me pay for it!” He knocked on the door again, glaring up at the lights in the windows.
*****
John was trudging up Glentworth Street, almost to Melcombe, when his mobile chirped. He juggled the bags of takeaway into one hand and pulled it out. Upon reading the words on the screen, he paused, stared, then took off at a run.
Though traffic was light, he still had to weave through people at times. He was just about to careen left onto Baker Street when he heard someone call his name.
“Mrs Hudson! Molly’s in trouble-don’t go near, take these and find a constable! Tell him your friend’s being harassed by an ex! Go!” He thrust the bags at her and began running again.
******************************************
As always, comments are most welcome!