The Gypsy

Chapter 1

The sounds of screeching and heart wrenching yells filled the building and echoed through the walls. It was a cathedral in the isolated French countryside. Rain poured, thunder cracked, lightning struck the ground, but none of it could compare to the blood curdling screams from within. The sounds originate from the lower wing of the church inside what seemed to be a small infirmary. Several nurses and nuns crowd around a bed to the source of the screams.

A woman lied on the bed in agony, sheets covering the majority of her frame aside from the large lump on the lower half of her body.

She was in labor.

Her sweat-covered body trembled furiously. Her arms were bound to the bed, but she had enough momentum for her to cover her face with the pillow. This was no ordinary church, it was an asylum. The woman wasn't there 100% willingly, but at this point she couldn't leave. She also needed to stay hidden for a long while. The nuns recited soothing prayers to her in French as the nurses helped her deliver. The woman practically cursed the devil himself for putting her through so much agony. Minutes of resonant silence filled the room until the sounds of a soft whimper filled the room.

3 years later….

The night streets of Dublin were instantly filled with camera men, news reporters, curious people interested in the commotion, police, and tons of traffic. Two officers were arresting a cuffed man. The man was elderly (late 50s, early 60s), wearing an expensive suit (with cheap cuffs), and large-framed glasses and had thinning gray hair. His name was Jeffrey Sutherland. An Irish-American democrat suspected of trafficking an illegal cartel of drugs and slaves (most of which involved young males between the ages of 10-23). Also suspected of the murder of Charles Francis, private detective who was originally on Sutherland's case. According to Police Reports:

Jeffery Nathaniel Sutherland has been suspected of multiple crimes involving Mexican/American affairs. They include smuggling of various illegal drugs including cocaine, methamphetamine and marijuana. Along with illegal human trafficking of nearly sixty young men and boys in which Sutherland claimed to be "importing soldiers for the British army" however after discovering compromising photos of him and 16 year-old Luke Debreu we have our doubts. According to the information received from an unknown source, Sutherland imported nearly twenty tons of drugs, by masking the scent with chloroform and weed-killer which hid the scent and prevented trained police dogs from detecting it. As for the young men, he had them dressed as soldiers in to make them seemed that they were arriving in Great Britain to participate in global warfare and conflicts the country is facing. The ones too young, were stored in the same crates that carried the disguised the drugs. Most of whom did not survive the transfer. His murder suspicion of Charlie Francis involves further investigation.

The evidence against that man was astounding and included phone calls made by drug lords both American and Mexican. As well as photographs of him being present at the transference not to mention those heinous photos of him and young Luke. He was also suspected of having a sponsor for those events but police are still investigating. As of know the source of that information remains anonymous…for the police that is. In a diner, not too far from the events, a man looks through the window while enjoying a warm cup of tea, barely noticing the waitress setting down a plate of biscuits on his table.

"Will that be all for you sir?" she asks in a light yet distinct Irish accent.

The man turns to face her revealing to be the illustrious Sherlock Holmes.

"Yes, thank you…Marion."

"H-how…how did you-

"Your name tag."

"Ohh, ha…sorry…umm enjoy your meal sir."

Then she walks off a bit embarrassed.

Sherlock merely rolled his eyes and returned to gazing outside. It had been three years since the fall. Three years since his so called 'death'. Since he left behind the people he cared, John, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Molly, even Mycroft. He was a genius and prided himself of it. The world's only consulting detective, but then that title was stripped from him. He was made a fraud, a fool, a criminal. All his years of hard work came crashing down because of one man. Jim Moriarty. Sherlock regretted not killing the man when he had the chance. But it wouldn't matter because Moriarty was always a step ahead of him. All of what Sherlock went through was because both of them were bored. When Sherlock finally found a way to prevent himself and his friends from dying, Moriarty killed himself just to have the last laugh. True, Sherlock did manage to come up with a way to make his suicide seem real, but it still required him to lay low until he destroyed what remained of Moriarty's empire. He would make the bastard rue the day he ever crossed paths with him.

The problem is, Moriarty and his criminal work were extremely covert. It would require tons of deductions and traveling to distinguish the crime from the very root. A lot of them were very complex and spread throughout the world not just one place. Plus once he actually solved the mystery he couldn't turn it in to the police without blowing his cover. Sherlock knew for a fact that he couldn't do this all alone. Which is why a year earlier he had been contacted, by an unknown source. This person provided clues and details about Moriarty's workings, and where his nearest crimes took root. Also of those that took place outside of Europe. Sherlock still had 'friends' who owed him favors, which was how he was able to fake his i.d. and travel to Brazil two weeks ago to uncover the mystery disappearance of the prime minister's wife as well as the location of Col. Sebastian Moran (whom the woman slept with). Moran escaped and Sherlock nearly blew his cover. Sooner or later he would find out that Sherlock was still alive, which was why he had to be stopped.

Sherlock's new 'friend' was the one responsible for giving him the pieces to the puzzle, he merely just solved them. He could have discovered the pieces himself eventually but that would take too much time and he was ready to return home. Besides this sponsor had connections with the authorities in which the investigations could be presented to without having Sherlock exposed. Sherlock was still skeptic about anonymous clients and wasn't sure what his sponsor wanted in return, but he was helping Sherlock get his life back together so he had to trust him.

When all the commotion died down, Sherlock returned to his motel he had been staying in, and paid the clerk use their computer. The moment he was on, he immediately contacted his sponsor via email.

Holmes1: Are you there? Send

…Anonymous: Another mystery solved, Mr. Holmes. Send

Holmes1: You flatter me. But just so you know I still don't do anonymous clients. I was used to one mystery at the end of my cases. Send

Anonymous: Really? Is that how you thank someone who is trying to help you get your life back? Send

Holmes1: In which I am immeasurably grateful for, but I still have trouble trusting ones I know little about. Send

Anonymous: What more can I offer. I give you information about Moriarty's crime organization, you solve the case, I turn it over to authorities and WALLA! Another chunk is depleted. Send

Holmes1: So this last case was Moriarty's doing. I thought as much. What about Moran? Send

Anonymous: I lost touch with him a week ago. But I think he's beginning to figure it out. You know what that means, do you? Send

Sherlock knew but he didn't want to answer.

…Holmes1: Explain. Send

Anonymous: You'll have to return to London. That will be the first place he'll suspect you'll be. It's likely that he'll go after your friends. I will arrange a trap, you lure him in and turn him in to authorities. I'll give you his background information, his employers including Moriarty, and his crimes. Send

Holmes1: …Will it work? Send

Anonymous: Yes. Moran was Moriarty's right hand man. He'll know just about everything or at least enough to clear your name. But there's a complication. Send

Holmes1: Which is? Send

Anonymous: I can't stay in the same place without him finding me. And I certainly can't risk him discovering about me contacting you. Send

Holmes1: What do you propose we do? Send

Anonymous: We need to meet face to face and go through with our plans together. When Moran is captured I'll make sure he provides you with every single piece of information about Moriarty possible. We can finally bring that bastard down once and for all. Send

Holmes1: ….Alright. When do you suspect Moran will arrive in London? And where should we meet? Send

Anonymous: In about a month. I'll give you coordinates in 3 days at noon. But after that you'll have to find me on your own. If you're as go as I think you are it would be too hard of a problem. Send

Holmes1: I assure you I'm much better than you think I am. If I weren't I wouldn't be alive to have this discussion. Send

Anonymous: Well I would love to continue this tedious yet intriguing conversation but I much prefer keep things in motion outside of my computer. GOOD DAY TO YOU SIR. Send

End Message.

Sherlock shutdown the computer, making sure the messages couldn't be traced. And laid back in his chair closing is eyes. After three years, he was going home.