Chapter 3
They sat in silence for most of the ride home. Sherlock was obviously thinking of how to catch this Moriarty guy and Jasmine was racking her brains for any memories of the stories. She could remember most of it clearly now. Although she was only 15 at the time, she had followed the whole story, mainly because she thought this Moriarty guy was pretty fit. He'd broken into the Bank of England, Pentiville Prison and the Tower of London all at exactly the same time but he'd taken nothing.
He also got off completely scott free, despite all the evidence against him. It had been a complete mystery to everyone. He'd come back a few months later claiming that Moriarty wasn't real. That he was an actor, hired by Sherlock, pretending to be the worlds greatest criminal mastermind. Then she suddenly remembered.
"You threw yourself off a building!" She practically screamed at Sherlock. "You were the "genius detective" who committed suicide!"
"I wondered how long it would take you to remember." Sherlock smirked.
"How? Why?" She asked in confusion.
"I had to disappear for a while." He replied calmly. "Moriarty had come up with this story that would have completely ruined me if it was published. Luckily it never was, so after 2 years of hiding I came back. People didn't realise at first, but when they did question it I had all the evidence I needed to prove my innocence. Ever since then people seemed to have continued like nothing ever happened. It's funny really."
There was a moment of silence as Jasmine processed all the information.
"So how did you do it then?"
"What? Survive jumping off a building?"
Jasmine nodded eagerly.
"I'm afraid I can't tell you." He smirked as he paid the driver and stepped out of the cab. Jasmine thanked the driver, stepped out herself and ran over to Sherlock.
"Oh, go on!" She begged.
"No!" He laughed, opening the door "It's top secret!"
"Fine!" She sulked "I'll just have to work it out for myself." She stuck her tongue out as she pushed through the door. Sherlock could do nothing but laugh at her. Everyone was always so serious around him, it was a nice change to have someone who obviously didn't care that he wasn't like most people.
"Oh Jasmine dear," Mrs. Hudson caught her half way up the stairs, "Some of your things arrived, they said they'd bring the rest tomorrow. You are now the new tennent of 221c Baker Street." She smiled. "Rents due Fridays." She finished and headed down the stairs.
Jasmine turned to Sherlock and mused "Looks like you've got a new neighbour Mr. Holmes."
"Mmm" he nodded, "I hope she's better than the last one." He joked. "Now come on, we've got a psychopath to find."
Mrs Hudson stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched them. It had been a long time since she'd seen Sherlock genuinely smiling, never mind laughing like he was with Jasmine. She was exactly what he needed, a new friend who couldn't be angry with him about the past, like John was, and she'd come at exactly the right time.
Upstairs Sherlock had already set to work. Jasmine sat cross legged on the floor, a laptop and book on either side of her. Sherlock paced around the room as he muttered to himself. The laptop had about 7 tabs open, each a different papers take on the events of James Moriarty. "The big book of bedtime stories" was open at the section about Robin Hood. Both Sherlock and Jasmine had read the story 5 times each and neither could find anything that could possibly help them find Moriarty.
"This is impossible!" Jasmine finally groaned.
Sherlock turned sharply to her. "No its not! Read it again! Look for places, character names, anything that could possibly be a clue to his location!" She read the story aloud again and again they could find nothing.
"Sherlock! Its late! The murders have all been 3 days apart."
"Three" Sherlock muttered "Robin Hood had 3 shots at the target. Everything is relevant, his location must be in the story!" Jasmine decided to ignore this, mainly because she didn't hear half of what he said.
"Let's call it a night and figure it out tomorrow!"
"You go to bed, I'll figure it out." He said, without looking at her.
"There's a slight problem." She said sheepishly as she stood in the doorway. "My bed isn't here yet…" He turned to her and stood in silence for a moment as he scanned his brain for the correct response.
"You can stay in my room, the one at the end of the corridor," He said after a pause "If you don't mind, that is."
"No, I don't mind. Thank you. 'Night Sherlock." she smiled softly and headed off.
She pushed open the door and slowly stepped into the cleanest room she had ever seen. It was the total opposite of the living room, you'd never guessed that they belonged to the same man. Everything had a place, the bed was well made and the only thing on the walls was a framed copy of the periodic table. Jasmine assumed that none of her clothes had been sent over, she was too tired to go up and check anyway, so she headed over to the chest of drawers. In the bottom drawer she found and array of miss-matched clothes, she assumed Sherlock used these when he went "undercover". She threw on a baggy tshirt and flopped down onto the bed.