Violet adjusted herself in the vent. She was lying on her back, a duct into a room above her head and her phone in her hands.
She was texting James and Sebastian simultaneously about the pros and cons of poison.
James continually ignored them. At home he would pick up his phone and look, then place it back down on the couch as he went through the motions of arranging his next consultation.
It amused him to watch his lovers communicate. Two killers. One without emotion, besides her feelings for him, and one will the skill and criminal mind perhaps one step below his own. As for poison, however…James Moriarty never got his hands dirty. He was a consultant. He told you how to do it, or told you what to do, or helped you meet the right people.
James only killed personally, well, when he thought it would be fun.
The last time he'd killed personally was four years ago, killing the man who'd hired Violet.
It was a moment decision, but he wanted to make himself clear on two points.
If you fuck with Jim Moriarty, you fuck with your life.
And he now had a ticking time bomb at his side.
He grinned as he watched the face of the Chinese woman over his interlaced fingers.
Sebastian was on the couch opposite him, smiling at Violet's comments and texting her with responses as to how he would generally never use poison but could see certain merits in it. He could see her in his minds eye, her little frame having just enough room in that vent. Ignoring where she was to discuss whether or not she'd ever truly use poison. She was conflicted considering that they can almost all be found.
Almost.
When Violet heard them enter the room, she didn't bother to turn around. She just listened.
But something about this one…caught her attention.
The victim wasn't crying, nor begging.
In fact, the "victim" seemed quite intrigued.
Ahhhh, so this was him.
She turned herself over and attached the small lens on a wire to her camera. She stuck the lens through the duct and positioned it, then turned on the sound and started sending the video to James.
You'll want to see this. She texted.
While she listened, curious, she closed her eyes and waited.
When Sherlock made the call on the fake gun she smirked and opened her eyes. She wanted to see Moriarty's reaction but didn't move the phone as to not disturb the wire.
As they went on about the "good" and "bad" bottles she rolled her eyes and imagined James doing the same. Truthfully, there was no good or bad bottle. They were both bad bottles.
The cabby never took the pill. He tongued it. How no one figured this out was beyond her. Poison or a gun? Why the hell would anyone choose poison?
Yes, the cabby was going to die. But he was making money off of killing people, for his children. He'd never want to stop early. He'd want to make more money until he died. He was also an arrogant pathological liar.
She heard James in her head when she pointed this out. He laughed and kissed her forehead, smoothing the wrinkles of her confusion and frustration. He told her people like to believe things are clever and dramatic. They like to believe in hope. They like to believe it, so the truth, which is so obvious, becomes impossible.
This was James Moriarty's greatest trick.
He was clever, because he believed in simplicity.
It was so elementary.
He was dangerous because he could manipulate you. He could see what you were going to believe before you believed it.
She shuddered in delight and bit her lip.
When the shot rang out she was surprised. It wasn't exactly expected of this Dr. John Watson but surely it should've been. She didn't hear or see him nearby…but who else?
Curious.
"Moriarty!"
She stifled a laugh. He sounded like a dying pig.
Sherlock Holmes left the room.
Violet waited a few minutes before turning off the camera and wrapping the lens, sticking it in the pocket of her p-coat.
She removed the duct and slipped through, landing on a table then the floor.
She cocked her head and stared blank faced at the man on the floor. She was careful not to make any prints on the floor or in the blood while she walked to him, past him, as if he wasn't there.
She did walk on his wound though.
"This Sherlock Holmes is interesting, don't you think? Sharp. Hmmm."
She looked at the bullet hole in the window and through to the other side. Very good, Dr. Watson. Very good indeed. Sebastian would be proud.
She walked back to the door, again stepping on the cabby.
It's not that she was cruel, he just happened to be in the way and she really didn't give a damn.
At the last minute before she walked out she read a text on her phone, shook her head and walked back to the man.
He was passed out on the floor, life seeping away.
She patted his face with a leather gloved hand.
"James Moriarty sends you a message. 'Good dog.'"
She walked out of the room and up to the roof.
She slept until the Police left.
When she awoke, the first thing she noticed was how cold she was. There were still a few straggling police cars. She crouched at the edge of the roof and looked at them.
She checked her phone and had two messages from James.
"Darling." Said the first one. Thirty minutes ago.
"If you don't get off that fucking roof, I may kill you then eat you. Or throw out your diamonds, whichever comes first."
Ten minutes ago.
She messaged him back about the policemen and took a picture of them.
"Fat cops? Someone needs to explain this to me one day. The only way a fat cop can catch you, Violet, love, is if you're running downhill and they trip and roll."
She grinned and turned going back to a ladder, which led to the fire escape on the back of the building. She moved quickly, pausing as one of the officers slowly passed under her.
Once she was clear of the building a dark car pulled up. She climbed into the back seat.
Sebastian turned and gave her a quick once over, making sure nothing went awry then turned back, pressing his foot hard on the pedal.
Since they'd met four years prior, Sebastian had become a surrogate older brother to Violet. A surrogate incestuous older brother. Though they barely spoke to each other, they had comfortable silences. They communicated through looks alone and enjoyed each other's company.
Including James, it was an odd family, but it worked for them.
Violet and James lived together almost full time. Sebastian lived in his own flat across town. Sometimes James went to stay with Sebastian, usually when Violet was wrapped up in a job.
Moriarty was sprawled in the back of the car, his head on a pillow on one door, a forearm over his eyes and his legs stretching across the seats. As she got in he lifted his legs for her without moving his forearm or opening his eyes.
"You. Took. FOREVER."
She squeezed one of his ankles underneath the jeans and glared at him.
He moved his forearm, just barely, to peek an eye out and give an innocent pout.
"Am I involved beyond this?" She sighed and leaned against the seat. Her body ached from sleeping on that roof.
"No, no. I don't think so. Black Lotus is pretty self-sufficient. Lucky for me, and for us, they're quite established criminals. I'm curious to see how Sir Holmes deals with them." His voice mocked the 'Sir' almost in an inside joke he'd made with himself.
"And his new partner."
James' lips thinned. "Dr. Watson. He's…normal. Ordinary. I truly don't expect much. Though…if Sherlock gains a weakness in him what fun will that be!"
Sebastian let out a bark of a laugh and glanced at Violet in the mirror, "You mean like the weaknesses you have Jim?"
Moriarty swung his legs up and slapped Sebastian across the top of his head.
"Not true. You, my dear Sebastian, will never be caught. You're too clever in your own right, and dangerous. So is Violet. Though, true, if one of you were ever used against me it would be…annoying. But let me put it to you this way. What would you do if you were being used against me?"
Sebastian didn't hesitate, "People aren't stupid enough to think they can use me to get to you, I'd kill them before the opportunity arose." James nodded.
He turned to Violet and touched her throat under her chin.
"My Violet. I'd hope they'd be far too frightened to use you."
She gazed at him under hooded lids and said nothing. Her heart pounded.
Fatal.
He was so, so fatal.
"Faster please, Sebastian."
James sat in their flat typing on a laptop, watching the distorted image of the head of the Black Lotus. His feet were crossed at the ankle balanced on the coffee table. He took a quick bite of a chip and leaned over to the side of his computer.
Violet slept on the couch opposite him. She'd been out on jobs all week and barely had time to sleep. To avoid getting in her way, he'd stayed with Sebastian.
She moaned and rolled over, away from the blue light of the screen, which reflected on his face.
As he listened to the woman babble her thanks, he rolled his eyes. Why did these people think he did this? 'Thanks.'
It was baffling. No, idiots, he did not do this job for thanks. He did it for distractions.
For purpose.
For amusement.
For something the every day world did not offer him.
His mind moved too quickly for the mundane every day life. Violet and Sebastian had seen him become bored before. Annoyed constantly, ravaging everything trying to find something to do.
Sherlock Holmes…what a delicious game.
What an opportunity.
What fun.
Violet and Sebastian weren't distractions. They were his. They were apart of him, like the extension of a limb. They didn't activate the chess game in his mind, because they weren't on the other side of the board.
They were his Queen.
"I am certain" he keyed.
He closed the laptop shortly thereafter, knowing the woman was no longer a liability to him.
Sebastian was no doubt hidden in plain sight, being the sexy man that he was shooting her in the head from an incredible distance.
He had absolutely no fears that this wasn't exactly what happened.
Sebastian was trustworthy to do his job at all costs.
James put down the laptop and walked over to the opposite couch placing his arms around Violet and lifting her up. He buried his face in the crevice of her neck and inhaled the smell of Dior. He'd missed her every time he went away, but it was worth it seeing Sebastian when he did.
This balance was everything that his heart needed to be calmed.
Sebastian was as clever as he was. Almost, anyways. They could duel on equal terms, and he often brought interesting ideas to his world. New perspectives, excitement. Sebastian's mind was thrilling.
Violet was…hard to explain. She was just so frightening. A human being who literally felt nothing, except for him. Watching her kill was so beautiful. She'd truly created an art form in it. It was true, he could have easily used her feelings for him against her, but despite everything he did love her. Sebastian and Violet in one being would be too much of an overwhelming perfection but separately they were yin and yang. He wanted to hold and squeeze them until they were integrated in his blood stream, in his very soul.
He wouldn't have minded if Sebastian had chosen to live with them, but he hadn't. Sebastian wanted privacy. He respected this.
He carried Violet to their bed and tucked her into the black duvet. He brushed the hair from her eyes and kissed her forehead before retreating into the kitchen. He opened the ice box and reached around the myriad poisons that had to be cold for various foods. He needed to make a late meal for Sebastian who would be stopping off to tell whether he had finished the job or not, (he laughed out loud, albeit quietly, at the idea of him not finishing a job) and to plan for their next thrill.
The one they'd truly been waiting for.
Jim smiled his friendliest and fakest smile. He shook hands with the man at St. Bartholomew's Hospital and pretended to be interested as he walked around and was introduced to all the I.T. staff.
He was given his own computer, and assignments. Doing daily, boring, mundane things. He often got by thinking about the final outcome. The final product.
After two weeks working, he turned a corner and, perfectly on cue, ran into Molly Hooper. He grinned and flattered her, picking up all the files she'd dropped.
Then he asked her out.
He was so fucking bored. This was taking too long. Often he bordered on being so excited he could barely contain himself, and going absolutely mad. It was worse in the Hospital or being out with Molly.
He was a good actor, surely. He pretended to like her, listened when she spoke and replied with the best faux honesty he could apply.
Every night when he'd go home, he'd make Violet tell him intimate stories about the latest victim of her weekly or monthly assignments. It kept him sane, in those in-between hours. The hours when he had nothing to do, after checking and rechecking over all of his plans. After confirming repeatedly with Sebastian about every move to be made.
She would tell him what kills she'd done, or planned to do. Sometimes he'd offer input, sometimes he wouldn't. Mostly only when she saw some type of issue, like a security camera, but generally she didn't need his help.
He just needed to place his pawns. He needed to see how Sherlock reacted on the other side of the board. The problem was, placing the pawns could be so tedious.
It wasn't that James suffered from tedium. No, generally he was capable of being calm and calculating, watching and waiting for some type of outcome. The change here was that he was the criminal, not the consultant. The change here was he had a partner for his game, and he couldn't wait to see what play he would make.
It was near agony.
After a few weeks the time finally came. Violet and Sebastian set up a bomb for him, one that would look uncannily like a gas explosion.
220 Baker Street.
Sebastian told Violet how the bomb should look, and what he wanted her to use and he helped her set it up. Violet was a master of small, not large. She killed people in singular, not in large numbers so large bombs had never been necessary for her.
While James did his menial I.T. job, Sebastian and Violet sat on the roof of 221 Baker Street and pressed a button.
They watched with stoic faces, which evolved into small smiles as their bomb worked to perfection. They hid their absolute happiness at how perfectly it had worked. To the rest of the world they were two serene faces on a roof, to each other they were practically doing cartwheels. Violet laid her head on Sebastian's shoulder and he turned his head towards hers, kissing her forehead before admiring the devastation below.
Demolition was always, in one form or another, bliss.
Violet read the file as she tucked her knees under her chin on the high chair at the kitchen bar, chewing slowly on her eggs.
James poured out milk for himself and Sebastian. Violet made a disgusted face at the drink and Moriarty jokingly pushed it across the table towards her face, then drank it and wiped his mouth.
He turned to Sebastian. "Did you do what I asked you to do?"
"I did. It was surprisingly easy. That landlady is rather out of her mind."
Sebastian passed a small key over to Violet. He'd played the part of building inspector for gas leaks after the explosion and made a copy in molding clay.
James brought out a box wrapped in plastic. He petted it slowly. His first real kill.
He placed it on the table in front of Violet.
"Just like we said, darling girl. Leave no trace."
She nodded.
James rubbed his hands. So it begins.
In the middle of the night, Violet opened the door to 221 Baker Street, only glancing at the demolition across the way, smiling at their achievement.
They'd made a copy of two of Mrs. Hudson's keys. One for the front door, and another small one.
She opened the padlock to 221C and crept in. She couldn't disguise the door being opened. James had already said it didn't matter. The point was not to leave clues that a woman, much less her, had been there. Just someone.
She brought the shoes out of the box and placed them neatly in the center of the room. She then took several photos of the room with a phone James had given her.
She crept out again, making sure the door was padlocked and checking the dust behind her feet, sprinkling her own out of a baggy through a sifter behind her.
No trace.
When she got home, James took the phone from her and brought out another one which he then proceeded to scratch and mar. He then placed it in a pink case, and into an envelope.
He handed the pen to Violet.
"Just writing his name will do."
She did.
The rest of the game did not include Violet, only Sebastian. Not until the very end.
Moriarty tried to leave her out of his affairs if he could. She had her own and he had no place for her there. He felt it would be like repeatedly commissioning a painter to do photography.
They can do it, and probably do it well. But it would never be up to par of what they could have achieved in their real medium.
Being hired to kill people was Violet's medium. Playing games was not.
He put on Chopin and together they stared at the vast emptiness of London.
A few hours later, someone would be abducted and strapped with a bomb.
The idea was seductive.
"So? Do I look spectacularly homosexual?"
Jim turned around in front of Sebastian and Violet. Her eyebrows rose and Sebastian stifled a smile.
"Uh, Jim. Technically aren't you already partially homosexual."
Violet laughed, and Jim became agitated. She really shouldn't be laughing for anyone else, but he let it go because it was Sebastian.
"I prefer not to limit myself by titles, thank you. But to Sherlock Holmes I have to be deduced as gay, and I really think this does it."
"Half of that really is just you though."
Moriarty glared at the pair of them.
"So you're saying I look homosexual most of the time."
"No," Violet replied with a perfectly straight face, "Only half of the time."
Sebastian and Violet both laughed and grinned at each other. It was too much fun.
Finally, Sebastian leaned back on the couch.
"You will be deduced the way you want to Jim."
Violet walked to Moriarty and wrapped her hands around his neck.
"You will. But we're only joking, you know that." She bit and licked the edge of his ear and he smiled. "I prefer you in Westwood, though." She whispered that so Sebastian wouldn't hear. James kissed her and bit her lip before turning to Sebastian and motioning him to follow with his head.
He let go of Violet and grabbed a jacket, Sebastian followed, grabbing his and kissing Violet on the forehead.
An odd family.
A deadly family.
But hers.
Sebastian took a quick snapshot of the car.
He didn't really have a lot to do here besides this, so after he did, he left and went to his next destination.
It was easy, really. Disguise yourself with glasses. Blend in. He ended up next to a very large sign on an intersection. He set up his rifle and waited for the text.
"Tan jacket. Probably very nervous looking."
Sebastian snorted and pocketed his phone. He looked through the scope and spotted him. Yes, he was very nervous looking.
8 Hours then.
Waiting 8 hours.
He paused for a moment and pulled out the small lunch Violet had packed for him.
By packed he meant, ordered from a restaurant then put into a lunch box. Violet could not cook, really. And even if she could he wasn't sure whether or not he trusted her not to accidentally put apple seeds in instead of nuts or some other mix up to that effect.
Apple seeds had come up in their poison discussion weeks earlier and since, he'd become very wary of anything she gave him that even resembled a nut.
He liked her well enough, of course. She was truly like a little sister to him, or something to that effect. A little sister he fucked. But well.
She didn't feel anything. At all.
That was the most dangerous type of person because if you don't feel anything, killing someone just because you had a bad day or, because you mixed something up wasn't a big problem nor something she'd go out of her way to avoid.
He settled in his seat, kept his scope a few inches from his eye and began to eat. He set his phone on vibrate on the windowsill
Time to wait.
"This is a horrible idea James. I can't believe this. Usually you're smarter than this."
Violet was pacing. Due to practicalities, James Moriarty had told her his latest victim would be hearing his voice. On the very off chance something went awry she needed to be informed.
"I'm having too much fun to stop, no matter the risk or cost. He's the best distraction on the other side of this idiotic world I've ever had. This is the first time in years I haven't been somewhat bored. Don't spoil it."
He was wearing a suit and was staring at her over interlaced fingers. His face showed the slightest annoyance.
"If you can't handle this, honey, I think maybe you should leave."
She stopped pacing and slapped him across the face then locked herself in their room.
It was the first time in all the years he'd known her she'd shown this much emotion.
The first time it wasn't during sex, anyways.
He moved his jaw several times, adjusting to the sting. It was true. Usually he kept himself out of it.
Usually Sebastian and Violet weren't remotely involved in his affairs.
But Sherlock Holmes was too great an opportunity for him to pass up and not use the most deadly piece on his board. He wouldn't use them to their full potential yet, but, he would use them. Bring them out and flash them around.
He sat back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling holding two hands on his cane. After a few moments of silence, Sebastian, who had been sitting in the kitchen watching them, spoke.
"Even I have questioned your judgment here, Jim. I'm not surprised she's like that. You're the only thing in the world that means anything to her besides me and you're putting yourself out there."
Moriarty stood and using both hands smashed his cane into their coffee table, then into the far wall and almost onto his expensive music player.
He stood for a moment facing the wall, breathing heavily and clenching his teeth.
Sebastian walked over and stood behind Jim. He put two hands on his shoulders, then a forehead on the base of his neck before kissing it softly.
Jim spoke, slowly and silently.
"She goes out there, puts herself out there for every single job she does. I handle it, because it's beautiful. Because it's her. It's who she is. I handle it when you go off doing whatever it is the bloody hell you do. Both of you need to understand this now."
He turned and faced Sebastian, looking up at him with extreme determination and malevolence.
"Sherlock Holmes is the best player I have come across in my lifetime. He may be the best I will ever come across. I mean to play him with all my ability and if I have to risk it, I will. And I expect you two to understand it as I understand you."
Sebastian gave a crooked smile and put his hands in his pockets before leaning in and kissing Jim slowly and seductively.
"Fine. But you might want to apologize to her. I have feelings and emotions every day. She doesn't. You can't possibly comprehend how frightening for her it must be."
Jim looked at him first with annoyance which then melted into comprehension.
Sebastian left and promised Jim he'd call later when he reached his next destination and everything was set.
James checked his watch and set down his cane, walking tentatively across their flat to the bedroom door. He placed both hands on it.
"Violet."
No answer.
"Open the fucking door, please."
He heard the lock unlatch and she opened it. Her face was a wreck of emotion and it took him aback at first. It was such a change from her usual blank slate.
Her face was red, tears had clearly smeared her black eyeliner and her eyes were puffy.
He pulled her with both hands into the kitchen and gave her a glass of water while he slowly wiped the makeup from her eyes with a handkerchief.
They said nothing, this was the first time they'd ran into real emotion from either party. James leaned in and placed his forehead against hers. She sighed. Her face changed back into its same placid look, though a smile filtered it.
"You realize what will happen if something happens to you?"
"I do."
She would kill everyone. She would torture Sherlock Holmes and John Watson unto their last breaths.
She wouldn't have a second thought.
Moriarty kissed her and lifted her up, she wrapped her long legs around his torso.
His voice became hoarse as he whispered softly against her lips, "between the two of you, sometimes you're killing me."
She gently bit the tip of his nose.
"You're killing me."
He shook his head and glanced at the nearest clock. Still time.
He picked up his cane and walked with her legs still around him to the couches and threw her down on one, shoving the coffee table out of his way. She pulled off his coat and he ran his cane down her thighs then kissed them.
She ran her fingers through his hair and he grinned at her.
"Tell me who you've killed this month." He whispered down her thighs.
Sebastian stared through his scope at the old woman in the flat across from him. He made sure his rifle was in alignment and listened through his earpiece to the woman and her conversation with Sherlock Holmes.
This time things were different and had him and Violet both on edge.
The night before had been…unusual because of it.
He texted Jim while he waited. The texts were rather erotic, since they'd left on an unfinished note.
It would be finished later, he was sure.
He felt no qualms about leaving Jim to Violet the night before. Violet had needed him more, as Sebastian understood the game Jim was playing. He enjoyed it.
It was like watching two masters of a field compete. It was fascinating and a learning experience for him.
He wasn't jealous, either. Violet and he had for some reason never been jealous of each other. He knew he turned on a part of Jim she didn't, and vice versa.
When he fucked Violet it was so different from sleeping with Jim, and he imagined very different from what she had with Jim too. With Violet it was silent and harsh, as if they were both testing each other for weaknesses. But even so, underneath that was this calm, this understanding they had that no one else shared: what it was like to love Jim Moriarty.
He stopped chewing his sandwich and thought for a moment.
No, no. He couldn't imagine fucking both of them simultaneously.
Well he could, and had…it was intriguing. Him, her, and Jim.
She seriously might kill him in the middle of it.
Sebastian snorted and continued eating. That's probably why Jim enjoyed it and her so damn much.
They were two deadly forces meeting in chaotic cohabitation.
He turned on Jim's mind in a very different way. They both appealed to his malevolence, his violence, and his cunning. But her attraction was to his pure unattached power and drive for an adrenaline rush, and Sebastian for his innate understanding of the complexities of his mind.
He had the ability, (if he so desired) to finish a thought for Jim. To push him to be the cleverest he'd ever be.
At the last hour, Sebastian was more on edge. He stared more often into his scope.
Finally the call came and he listened.
Everything seemed normal, and then she said it.
She began describing his voice.
Sebastian felt the urge to panic rise and smoothed it down. He dissembled well.
When the shot was fired and the explosion burst there was a moment of unadulterated glee for him. He'd succeeded in protecting Jim, and gotten to do some damage in the process.
Sebastian packed up his rifle and took a sip of his water.
He left without anyone noticing, and spent the night with Moriarty.
The day was very productive.
James was in the best mood he'd been in the whole time this game had been played.
The final move, the final play was at hand.
His mood was elated, dangerous, malicious, deadly.
For her, it was like being stimulated repeatedly. He didn't even have to touch her, just that look. The vicious radiation that cut her was enough.
But yes, she wanted to be touched and more.
For now they were staring at each other.
It was enough to drive someone mad.
Sherlock Holmes had, at the last second, figured out why the painting was fake. The smallest detail and the last little test before the end of this game in the tournament.
Moriarty knew Sherlock had been lacking in knowledge about the solar system and was both amused and surprised to hear him praise and discover the clue he'd only heard in passing.
James was ecstatic. This was turning out to be the greatest fun he'd ever had.
He grabbed Violet by one naked leg and pulled her down the bed until her hips sat on the edge of it, pressed against his. He leaned over her and hovered.
She laughed as she became more terrified of him.
"Maybe I should send Sherlock Holmes a thank you note."
Violet, James and Sebastian sat above the pool in the darkened seats. They watched Sherlock enter, and watched him speak, holding out the plans.
"It's cute how he thinks they're special."
James giggled silently and grinned, giddy as a child.
When John walked out, Moriarty put on his earpiece and left the seats. Violet sat next to Sebastian with his rifle, her legs crossed. Sebastian casually showed her all the parts and how they worked as he pointed it at John Watson.
When Moriarty walked out, they both hushed and watched. Silent and wary.
They hadn't liked this idea either but neither of them had the heart to talk him out of it. He seemed too excited to do it.
This game was going to be played with the highest risks he could stake.
Violet leaned her forehead on Sebastian's shoulder. He squeezed her ankle and they listened.
The remote snipers slowly powered on around the pool. Sebastian controlled them with a device of his own making. He didn't bother explaining it to her, it was too complex. Jim adored the system, though.
So many guns aiming at one target?
Violet playfully bit Sebastian, a sign of both frustration and affection. She walked down into the changing area beside the pool and waited. She couldn't be in the seats anymore with Sebastian and possibly ruin his concentration.
She sighed as James walked out and over to her.
He kissed her forehead and smiled. She straightened his tie.
"It's not quite over yet, my darling."
He kissed her again, and stepped into view of Sebastian giving him a smile and blew a kiss to him before walking back out to the eyes of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson.
Violet and Sebastian watched and waited. Violet standing only feet from Moriarty, prepared to grab him or step in front of anything that would endanger him.
For now both her and Sebastian stayed still as Sherlock pointed the gun at the explosives.
James Moriarty only smiled.