Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes.
Setting: 21st century London & Cardiff

JOHN WATSON POV

On a foggy February day, Lord Arthur Smith decided to pay Mr. Holmes and I a visit. He stepped inside our Baker Street residence without saying a word and sat down on Holmes' chair – who was immediately very intrigued by this man. 'Mr. Holmes.' He said in a heavy Welsh accent. 'I have come to ask you for help.'
Holmes nodded. 'Why would you be here otherwise? Father of two small children, married, a businessman and a veteran. What was it, Afghanistan or Iraq?'
'Iraq.' He answered simply. 'I assume you have read the papers recently? The Cardiff Abductions?'
Holmes nodded. 'I have read about those.'
I looked at him. 'You haven't read a paper for over a month.'
'Hush, Watson.' Holmes said. 'Tell me about it, my memory isn't anymore what it used to be.'
'My wife and two daughters have been taken from me. The only thing the kidnapper left for me was a piece of paper.' He handed it over to Holmes.

They are my dolls now, Mr. Smith.

Nothing more, nothing less. Those 7 words, typed out in New Times Roman size 14.
'Do you have any enemies, Mr. Smith?' Holmes asked. 'Anyone who would want to harm your family like this?'
'No.' He stumbled. 'No one.'
Holmes smirked. 'Naturally. We'll come over to Cardiff on Friday.'
'We do?' I asked.
'Yes Watson, we do.'
'But Mary..'
'Can take care of herself. Goodbye Mr. Smith.' Lord Smith understood he had to go and left. Holmes closed the door. 'Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Can't you see it, Watson? I should call Lestrade about this.' Holmes smiled. 'This could be really, really interesting.'

A black car picked my wife and I up Friday morning at 7 am. Mycroft, Holmes' older brother (7 years his senior), was driving. 'Hello, John, Mary.'
'Good morning, Mycroft.' I greeted him. Holmes - who was also sitting in the backseat- wasn't fully awake yet. 'John.' He mumbled.
'Brother dear, have you thought about the Smith case?' Mycroft asked. 'Not your usual division.'
'It's all a matter of deduction, brother dear. I only need to make a point.'
'I asked Greg Lestrade to join us in Cardiff. Thought it might be nice for you, working with all the same faces.'
'Oh shut up, Mycroft.' Holmes said and turned his face to the window. There was quite some rivalry between the two brothers, although I hadn't figured out what caused it.
It was a three hour drive to Cardiff, and we stayed at a nice hotel with a view on Cardiff Bay. Holmes left immediately with Lestrade, to visit the local DI. Mary and I walked around the was a perfectly normal town. Smaller, in comparison to London. I only had to get used to the Welsh the local residents spoke.

I got a text from Holmes later that afternoon to meet up at the Wales Millennium Center. We would visit Mr. Smith again.
'Lovely afternoon, isn't it?' Holmes asked happily.
'It is, indeed.' I agreed. 'So where does Mr. Smith want to meet us?''
I think you understood me wrong, my dear Watson. We will pay a visit to a business rival of Mr. Smith, Henry Williams. In my opinion, a rival will see the dark sides of a person. The destructive parts.'
'What are you implicating? Lord Smith has abducted his own wife and children?'
'That's what you deduct, Watson. I spot something else.' He said.
'Are you going to tell us?' Lestrade asked.
'Nope.' Holmes said and went back to texting.

We visited Mr. Williams in a small restaurant near the City Hall. He was a tall, dark man with speaking blue eyes.'Hello, Mr. Holmes, Doctor Watson!' He shook our hands. 'I've been reading your blog for centuries now.'
'Always nice to hear.' I said.
'We are here to talk about Lord Smith.' Holmes said. 'What do you know about him?'
'He used to be my business partner until he lost my money with betting and stole my fiancee – his current wife. He is a strong man, a man who knows what he wants and will do everything to achieve his goals – not in a good kind of way. He is a cheater, a liar. He made a deal with the devil.'
'Meaning?' I asked him.
'I can't say.' He whispered. Holmes nodded.
'Naturally. I understood from your secretary you have another appointment in ten minutes, am I right? I'd like to come with you to your office and wander around a bit.'
'Why exactly?' The man asked.
'There are many reasons.' Holmes asked. 'And you shouldn't question one of them.'
Mr. Williams nodded, slightly scared. 'I'll accompany you to the office.'
'Nonsense.' Holmes said. 'We are able to arrive there ourselves.'

The office was only 10 minutes of walking away. It was a located on a beautiful location and looked a bit like the Yard.
Holmes and I wandered around – he was looking at the employees, their desks, basically everything. He was making notes and using his magnifying glass.
'How did you even know this mr. Williams is Smith's business rival?'
'The threat was written on special paper, produced by this company.' Holmes turned his face to the right. 'Watson, duck!'
We both ducked and hit under a desk. We saw a man. In my eyes, he was a perfectly normal man, fitting in.
'Oh, my. This makes the game a lot more interesting.'Holmes said happily. 'It's my lucky day.'
'Don't be so happy about it, it's not decent.'
'Who cares?' Was his simple reply.
The man's name – I learned later – was James Moriarty. A criminal mastermind, the only consulting criminal in the world. And where James Moriarty went, trouble followed. Seeing him here, in Cardiff, meant danger. Big danger.
We immediately left.

Go now, you have 30 minutes before they die.

The second message of the abductor, sent to the phone of the father and husband. 10 minutes after that message, DI Lestrade, Holmes and I arrived. Lestrade was tracking the signal back, but it took longer than the 5 minutes expected. Smith was snapping at everyone and biting his nails – a childish habit.
Lestrade's phone buzzed. 'They are in the cellars of the city hall.' He said, reading quickly. 'The car is ready downstairs.'
'You didn't bring your gun, did you, Watson?' Holmes asked on our way downstairs.
'I know what that means in Sherlock Holmes- language.' I answered and showed him the gun, hidden in the pocket of my coat.
The whole city hall was evacuated, the police everywhere. I've seen many extraordinary things in my lifetime but the way this operation was set up… like it was a matter of national importance.
Holmes, Lestrade and Smith went inside.

I decided to stay outside, though I was tempting to run inside and help. A few seconds later, we heard gunshots, followed by a "NO! MY GIRLS!" and uncontrollable sobbing.
The rest of the operation happened way too quickly. There was one more shot, and silence. Policemen ran inside, and brought three bodies back. Lestrade was shot, in his leg. Holmes had pick pocketed me and taken my gun (I hadn't even noticed it). Moriarty had been the abductor, according to Holmes he was also shot, but still alive. Smith wasn't crying anymore, like earlier. He wasn't even touched.
Holmes didn't come to the police station, but went to the hospital to speak with the pathologist there. He let Molly Hooper come over for the autopsy, because he said the pathologist in the hospital wasn't trustworthy enough.
The consulting detective had officially solved this case.
But it wasn't over yet.

'Watson, I need your opinion.' Holmes said three days later, when we made use of a lab in the Hospital. 'Please look at these DNA samples.'
'Are they from the same person?' I asked.
'They should be, the first one is an old sample, taken from Mrs. Smith. The second one is from the autopsy. I saw the corpse – it's covered in bruises and her nose is broken but she isn't the same woman. Same story with the corpses of his daughters – if you don't look up close, you would say it are his daughters.'
'So?'
'Lord Smith faked their deaths.'
His phone beeped. 'Ah. That's Mycroft. Mr. and Mrs. Smith are on their way to Peru right now.'
'Peru?' 'Their company is almost bankrupt. He stole the money, sent his daughters to Peru beforehand, and made use of fake passports. It was quite simply. I figured it out the moment I did some digging on the finances. Crystal clear. But the touch with Moriarty was nice.'
'Aren't you going to do something? He faked an abduction, let us travel all the way here and even forgot paying us.'
'Nope.' Holmes said. 'He payed us, enough to pay the rent the next 4 months.'
'And you knew this only because the DNA- samples didn't match?'
'Yep. Molly Hooper, the head of pathology at Barts, came over and figured it out before me. The pathologist who ought to do the autopsy was an old family friend- possibly blackmailed to fake the records. Moriarty was there at the Williams' office – suspectively to tell Williams Smith was defeated. It's a small game, but part of something bigger.' He smiled. 'We've only unraveled a small part. Moriarty will strike again, now that he's shot, his revenge will be bigger than ever.'
'Reichenbach all over again.'
'But only with more torture.' Holmes said. He wasn't even afraid - something I envied. 'Case is solved. Back to Baker Street.'