"As I passed the corner (...) a two-horse van furiously driven whizzed round and was on me like a flash.
I sprang for the foot-path and saved myself by the fraction of a second."
(A.C. Doyle, The Final Problem)


I am still pondering my options after the children have been found in an abandoned warehouse and while I walk into the office at the Yard where the little girl is waiting to be questioned. As she screams, another part of the puzzle falls into place, and this is the moment when the magnitude of Moriarty´s plan comes crashing down on me.

That the little girl is screaming at the top of her lungs at the sight of me does arouse suspicion among the yarders. Lestrade´s team is not dumb, they usually follow all possible leads and they will not hesitate to reconsider their picture of me.

Time is running out, I need to think, to consider all possibilities and thus I instruct John very curtly not to follow me as I stomp from the yard and hail the first taxi in sight. This turn out to be a big mistake, as this taxi ride is a hoax by which Moriarty attempts to crush my self-esteem even further. He basically tells me what to expect in due course: the police will get suspicious, they will want to examine the case more thoroughly and they will finally arrest me.

I feel an overwhelming rage when the cabbie turns around and Moriarty is grinning at me, his eyes black dots of pure hatred. Right now, I would kill him on the spot, for I am aware that I am his puppet now, tightly bound to the strings which will make me dance.

But not just me, he has made the yarders his puppets, too, and we all have to act on his accord, play along in his demented game. Most of all, I hate him for the seeds of doubt he is sowing into Lestrade´s mind. Lestrade, who picked me up from when I had fallen deep into the aftermath of eleven years of using drugs, Lestrade, who´s put an unwavering trust in my abilities, Lestrade who is certain that I am no liar.

Back home, John corners me.

"There will be an examination," he says."You´d better talk to Lestrade."

I sigh. "John. There is nothing I can tell him." This is not the whole truth, of course, as I can´t jeopardize the plan by cooperating with the police and as the DI in all probability will not listen to what I could tell him.

A sleepless night for me and a very fitful sleep for John follows and it is eight in the morning when the doorbell finally rings. As much as I am grateful that Lestrade wants a word with me personally, I feel regret for not being able to explain. Thus, I flatly refuse to deliver any information and the DI leaves in a fury, asking John to talk reason into me. The doctor tries, but fails because I am determined to play my role, and thus the wait for my certain arrest begins.

It is early evening and already dark when Mrs. Hudson opens the front door, the way she is talking clearly indicating her astonishment on seeing the police in. John rushes to our door, allowing me to wrap myself into my shawl and coat and pick up my phone and purse.

Lestrade is in company of his superintendent, Sally Donovan and two officers, one of which grabs my wrists to apply handcuffs while Lestrade rattles down the formal sentences. Obviously he is not happy with the situation, as isn´t John, who protests fervently.

"It´s okay, John," I try to soothe my friend, but he is too outraged, once again too emotional, to be silenced so easily.

"No it isn´t. It´s bloody outrageous," he shouts.

Lestrade rounds on him instantly, reprimanding him: "You be quiet, or you´ll be the next one in." He then orders his men to get me downstairs, exasperated, and off we are, leaving a fuming Dr. Watson behind.

But not for long. As I am standing sprawled against a police car, he is suddenly pushed into position right next to me, our hands getting cuffed together. The superintendent passes us, pressing a tissue at his bleeding nose and in spite of my role I feel a smile forming on my face, the first smile John has been getting for several weeks now.

"Fancy joining me?" I ask lightheartedly and I am glad for his undisputable loyalty, for a second forgetting the fact that I will betray this loyalty not very far from now.

"Seems it´s not legal to hit a superintendent," he gasps.

"Time to end this charade, don´t you agree?" I ask, reaching down into the police car turning up the transmitter, at the same time grabbing the weapon of the young female officer who is in the driver´s seat.

Turning in on Lestrade and Sally, I voice my threat, pushing John away from the car. Stunned, nobody dares to move, Lestrade commandeering everyone to do as I ask. His eyes widen in surprise as John calls out that he is my hostage, and I point the gun to my friend´s head, before we turn and run.