8Mths, 2Wks, 8Ds, 12Hrs, 34Mins

Down Mexico Way

Chapter Three

A/N – I love the name Tybolt, and Alys is pronounced Alice, it's an old fashioned way of spelling it.

Mexico has been successful. I have been here two months. It is humid, sticky and basically horrid. Worse then other places I have been, better then others.

The people here are a mix of corrupt, ignorant and innocent. Police are easily paid off. They have been. I have solved a few murders for them too. As well as broken a few drug rings. I did not bother mentioning the Moriarty connection.

I caught Tybolt. Scotland Yards infiltrator, Lestrades would be killer. His wife, Alys was shocked that the International Relations Consultant front that her husband held for so long was a lie. John always said I should remember people's names.

Tybolt was executed for the assignation of some politician here in Mexico yesterday. I have to vanish before Mycroft gets involved. My false name of Fredrick Li will, I hope, be enough to keep him away from me.

The last thing Tybolt said before he hanged was to me, across the crowd, but with his eyes on mine.

"You are chasing memories, mere shadows, leading to nothing but sorrow. Give up little British man"

Alys was not there. She has disappeared. Not my problem. Not a connection. Her reactions were honest and open. Like John.

Tybolt had heard through my false accent. I'm leaving on the next train. United States of America, I am coming. Another strand cut, another lead to follow. Mexico is clean of Moriarty

Eight and half months since death, two since I have seen John and the others. I am getting there.

Sitting on the train, I'm being watched. A security badge, twitching right hand. Gun on left side, CB radio on right. Uniform. Clean, pressed. Navy blue; police or security then. To far North to be navy. Wedding ring, well worn. Short hair cut, nice teeth. White teeth, chattering. American then. Has a dog, and a cat. Hair on trouser legs and shoulder. They are affectionate, loved. He does not like the situation he is in.

"Can I help you?"

"No."

"Then stop staring". My accent is German this time. I travel as a tourist. I speak German fluently. And Dutch, Spanish, Italian, French, Japanese. I wish I could deduce him. Too much of a tell, I hold the cards in this poker game. I used to play poker for drugs, and cigarettes.

I get off at the next stop. Too dangerous, I may have been recognized thus jeopardized. John. Wish he were here.

I'm in Kansas now. The guard gets off too. The Station Master is walking towards me, the platform is almost empty. A tottering old fool sits on a bench and watches. A lady and her children feel the danger and leave quickly. I act like I have noticed nothing. They both draw guns. The old man is faster. Both have the offensive weapons shoot out of their hands before they can blink.

The two men are on the ground, their hands damaged.

"I'd say you have only a few minutes before the cops come. I've disabled the security. The Station Master was black mailing the guard, go easy on him. He just wants his family back safe. See you around."

"Wait. Who are you?"

"Deduce me" and he walked off, a casual flick of the wrist to wave, his back to me.

The Station Master groaned. I took the gun and threatened to destroy his other hand. He spilled. Weak fool. I told the guard where his family was. He left promising to keep the whole thing quiet.

I need to eat, it has been a week. John would be mad. I pick pocket a random person who looks wealthy enough not to miss some cash. The wallet is returned somewhat lighter.

I eat, I have tea. They don't make it like John does. It is rancid.

The Station Master has given me names. I buy a gun from a street peddler.

I go hunting. But Moriarty's followers are after me. But I have someone too. That voice, that stance. I did not recognize it. Hmmmm.

Tonight I'll sleep in a hotel. Shower and sleep. Tomorrow I will continue my hunt.

A/N – I'm not sure if there is a train from Mexico to the USA, I am assuming there is. Feed back welcome