Mary was crouching inside of a closet. Her mouth and hands were wrapped with Gaffer tape, as a hand pushed down on her shoulders, the fingernails digging into her flesh. The murderous manager stood beside her looking at a small flat mirror that he had placed under the edge of the door. He bent down to look into it, and the light reflected off of it into his eyes. At the sound of heavy footsteps, he pulled the mirror backwards with the tip of his shoe, standing still as the handle of the door was rattled from the outside. He placed a knife against Mary's throat, and she stilled.

After the footsteps receded, he pushed the mirror back out through the crack, waiting before he unlocked the door from the inside and pulled her out.

Mary staggered a bit blinking against the light as he closed the door. She started to fall, but his cruel hands grabbed her and pulled her along in the opposite direction from the searchers. He pulled her down a side passageway and using a key opened the door before dragging her into a darkened room and letting the door fall shut behind her.

At first Mary couldn't see at all, but then her eyes slowly adjusted to the light. It was coming from the other side of a stack of boxes. He pulled her around the boxes and sat her on the floor. From this side, she could see a window that looked down onto the store. Below her, she could see the abandoned escalators moving up and down.

He glanced down at her. "They've already searched these rooms. It will take them quite a while before they think to search them again, if they ever do. While I'll be able to watch them the whole time." He pulled out a chair and sat. "You're probably wondering where we are. This room was originally built to be the manager's office. What better office could there be than one that allowed you to view the floor? From the other side, these windows look like mirrors. They stopped using it as an office because when the lights are on you can see inside. The previous manager didn't like the lack of privacy, so we converted this into a storeroom. He needn't have bothered. No one ever looks up when they are shopping. They never guess that we can see them. Oh the things that I have seen people do when they think that they are hidden from all eyes. People are so stupid. It was here that I first saw them, huddled together behind the curtains kissing when they thought no one could see them.

"You were with that detective, Sherlock Holmes who came to investigate the death. Mrs Watson, he called you. Watson. That's the name of his blogger isn't it? The one who kept saying that he was innocent? Everyone says they were sleeping together. Where does that put you, Mrs Watson? Did you ever find them the way that I found her, wrapped around that loathsome man?

"You must understand then how I feel. How it hurts when someone you love betrays your trust like that. Such dishonesty can only be redeemed by death, don't you think? She deserved it, that teasing whore. She led me on each day with looks and smiles, and then secretly she and he... It makes my skin crawl just to think of it. The way she cried that it wasn't true when I had seen it, seen it with my own eyes!"

The man put his head in his hands and began to sob. Mary took the opportunity to look around her. The room was filled with boxes. It seemed that all sorts of things were just shoved into the room with no sense of order or reason. There was a desk and a chair near the window, and he sat there resting his elbows on the desk while he sobbed.

She needed a plan. A way to contact Sherlock. She thought of using her phone, but it was in her purse, left behind on the stage far below. It was possible that policemen might pass outside the door, but her mouth was taped shut, and her hands, taped tightly behind her back, couldn't reach them. She thought of slipping her wrists under her hips, but she wasn't the slender girl of her youth, and her arms could not slip past her hips. She flexed her hands and relaxed them trying to work the tape loose, but the edges twisted when she pulled rolling so that they seemed to bind her even stronger. She put her knees together and thought of pushing herself to her feet, but then she glanced over at the desk to see the man looking directly at her over his cupped hands.

"Don't try to escape," he said in a voice icy as sleet in winter. "I feel sorry for you, but I won't hesitate to slit your throat if you give me too much trouble."

Mary lowered herself and bowed her head until he looked away again. Combing the store below for signs of what the police planned to do.

"I loved her," he said quietly. "From the moment that she joined the staff, I loved her. I always planned to ask her to come away with me, but I was too shy. I saved my money, worked long hours, all in the hopes of asking her out on a minibreak. I had the tickets purchased. A trip to Italy. A beautiful little villa. We could be alone together. Show our true feeling apart from the prying eyes of the staff, but she said 'no'. He had already corrupted her. Her head had been turned by that burly, tempter, and I knew that I had to stop him. To get rid of him. To end him. You understand don't you? You are in the same situation as me. Did that man tempt away your husband? You can be honest with me. All you have to do is nod."

Mary sat perfectly still.

"I understand, You don't know me yet. You're not ready to spill your sorrows to a stranger, but I understand you. I truly understand you, and I'll help you. The next time that I see that man, that Sherlock Holmes, I will kill him. I will kill him for you. You will see your rival bleed to death before we die."

Mary's eyes widened and she looked out into the store watching the pairs of policemen walking through the aisles searching. He was right, not one of them thought to look up.