Authors Note: Chapter Four is upon you! I think about now is where we can start delving into the nitty gritty. I'll drag it out slowly of course, just to torture you all. I am loving the feedback I've been getting so far. Keep it up! It helps me to stay the course!
Wanted: Criminal Dynasty
It was 1:45 in the morning by the time New Scotland Yard had placed the two felons Holmes and Watson had apprehended into separate containment cells. Chief Inspector Grayson had been called in once the prisoners were secured, and it was all Holmes could do not to lock himself in one of the boxes with one of those delinquents and begin to get some answers. He'd never realized he could feel so angry or blood thirsty.
Now that he did, he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Outwardly, he forced himself to remain stoic and aloof. Beths' kidnapping was a big enough problem all by itself without him adding to it the spectacle of a man driven to the brink of madness over his lovers disappearance, not to mention the fact that he and the inspectors relationship was still very secret. An overly emotional response to anything regarding this case would invoke some questions that he simply was not ready to answer yet. So he did the only thing that he could do, and that was wait for the good Chief Inspector to arrive, which he did three minutes after Erikson and the bar tender had been escorted down to the holding room.
"Holmes."
"Chief Inspector."
"What have you found?" Grayson headed for his office and punched in the access code, Watson and Holmes following close behind. As soon as all three were in the office, Grayson slid the door shut and walked around behind his desk, flopping down in the leather wheelie chair.
"To be quite honest, I am not sure as of yet." The detective ignored the rather pensive look being directed at him and continued on. "As you no doubt are aware, I have been keeping an eye out for any acquaintances of Professor Moriarty's, and in doing so, I came across Mr. Erikson. Somehow, the bar tender recognized me and slipped Erikson a note as he gave him the drink he'd ordered. Erikson immediately turned the stool over as he tried to get away, but he wasn't counting on Watson here being ready to apprehend him."
Watson positively beamed.
"So you know of this Erikson then?" Grayson pulled up his computer monitor and began typing something in to the data bank.
"I know that he is an associate of Moriarty's, a rather acceptable thief that can often be found in the employ of Dr. Martin Fenwick, Moriarty's closest associate."
Watson cleared his throat. "If I may say Holmes, I find it very odd that anyone would be able to recognize you in the costume you are wearing. True, it is not an elastomask as anyone would be able to recognize the collar that sits at the neck, but-and I say this as a good friend who knows you quite well-had I not known you were underneath all that make up, I would not have been able to see through it."
"Yes," Sherlock tapped his lips with the tip of his index finger I thought, "it is a remarkable problem. Perhaps the bark keeper will be able to answer that question and more."
"Perhaps he will," came Grayson's answer as he tapped a few more keys and glanced at the doctor and the consulting detective, "Mr. Gerard Erikson, 24 years old, genetic engineering major at New Oxford University. He has a wrap sheet a mile long, apparently turned to crime when he could not afford to continue paying for his rather expensive education after his parents died. He has been in and out of trouble with New Scotland Yard for quite some time, though always for theft, never for kidnapping."
"What did he normally steal?" Watson asked.
"Medical equipment mostly it looks like." Grayson continued to scroll down the screen. "Let's see here um…yes, he's stolen from hospitals, lab equipment manufacturers, research labs…"
"And have any places such as those been robbed in the past, say month?" This time it was Holmes asking. His inner detecting sense had latched on to something, his mind was beginning to swirl with possibilities, and this was a good thing, for once he narrowed down and excluded those possibilities, whichever one remained, however unlikely, must be the true and final lead to follow.
Grayson nodded his head as he glanced up at the detective. "A research lab for genetics; McKenzie and Fonroy Office of Medical Research. The case still remains unsolved." Sighing, he stood up from the desk. "Wait here for me. I'm going down to talk to our two newest guests."
"With all due respect, Chief Inspector-"
"All respect is due to me, and I thank you for giving it to me, Mr. Holmes, but for right now, you will make yourself quite at home in my office while I give a shake down to our new found friends." Grayson punched a button on the wall and the door to his office slid open again with a soft hum. "Do yourself a favor Holmes; stay here and let me do my job."
Holmes could only watch Grayson walk out the door, and he hissed in frustration as the door slid closed behind him. "That man doesn't know the first thing about interviewing one of Moriarty's henchmen."
"He may have a chance, old friend," Watson did his best to try and sooth the detective that looked about ready to break down the door. "Mr. Erikson was quite alarmed at the prospect of having you in the same bar as he. It is possible that his fear is great enough in the face of the Chief Inspector of New Scotland Yard who has one of his best officers missing that he will relent and answer all the questions Mr. Grayson asks him."
Holmes didn't even blink as he made his answer. "I want to ask him myself."
If the doctor could have swallowed a lump of nervousness, he would have. Being that he was a robot, he could only act as though he were sighing and cast his eyes to the floor. He couldn't blame Holmes for the way he was feeling. He was acting the way any one would act when they'd had someone they cared for taken from them. The problem was that, before now, Watson had never had to deal with a passionately irate Sherlock Holmes, and now that he was faced with it, he didn't know where to start.
So he stood in the room next to his friend while the detective looked out the window, a sadness in his eyes Watson had never seen before, but determination locked into his jaw that was more than recognizable.
It was almost 2:30 in the morning when both men heard the sliding door rear back into its pane and both turned to see a frustrated Chief Inspector step over the threshold. Without sparing a glance at the historic pair, he sat down and waved them out, but as Holmes was nearing the door, he raised his voice to stop him.
"Erikson is terrified but tight lipped; seems he's more afraid of Moriarty than he is of the police force. He's definitely hiding something, possible that he even knows about Lestrade's kidnapping, but don't count on getting anything out of him. Moriarty's reach is far, and he knows it."
The look on Holmes face was positively deadly as he looked the Chief Inspector in the eye.
"Mine is further."
Wanted: Criminal Dynasty
Grayson hadn't been lying. Gerard Erikson looked like a scared puppy, cowering on the bench in his cell, but this did not sway Holmes in the least. If possible, the young man looked even more terrified than he had been when Holmes and Watson had apprehended him. "I'll advice you not to test my patience. This warning is your first and last." He crossed his arms and stared hard at the boy. "Why did you run out of the bar?"
Erikson shrugged.
"Did you not hear what I said before I asked the question?" Sherlock placed his hands on the table. "Why did you run?"
"I-I got a tip…a note-"
"Underneath your glass, yes I know. I saw the barkeep slip it under its base," Sherlock murmured, "but of all the moves you could have made, that had to have been the stupidest one. You ran. You drew more attention to yourself. Why did you not stay, finish your beer, and then leave calmly?"
"The note told me to leave right away," Erikson muttered, "said it came directly fro-from my boss. Said you was there."
"Oh come my dear boy, you and I both know you work for Moriarty quite frequently, so let's not prance around." Holmes pulled out a chair and sat in it, crossing his legs, "the note was a message from another associate of Moriarty's, yes?" The felon nodded. "Moriarty has a vast criminal empire in the Underground, undoubtedly someone recognized me-" at this, the boy shook his head, and Holmes arched an eyebrow. "No?"
"No." Erikson cleared his throat and scratched at his neck. "Your hovercraft…and the droid. So-someone recognized your hovercoach and that droid sitting outside the bar and-and they went and told the barkeep and anyone that has any connection to…to the boss-"
"Moriarty," Holmes supplied.
"Yea…to him, the barkeep's got instructions to let everyone know when you're around and-and that's what he was doin' when…"
"When you ran?" Holmes leaned back and smirked, shifting his legs so his ankle was now perched on the opposite knee. "You're aware that a New Scotland Yard Inspector has gone missing, correct?" Erikson nodded. "And you are also aware that we have surveillance proving that Moriarty himself took this inspector?"
Again a nod.
"So, the obvious question any investigator would ask a frequent associate of the greatest criminal of all time, is this; do you know where he is now?" Holmes frowned when Gerard shook his head no, but he'd been expecting that. The man hadn't been anywhere on the security tapes when Beth had been taken hostage, so he had nothing to refute it. "You steal things for Moriarty, yes?"
"Occasionally. Well…yea, I mean. Yea, sometimes."
"And your record indicates that you normally take items that have a medical disposition to them, correct?" Nervously, the criminal bobbed his head up and down so as to indicate an affirmative. "There was a robbery a fortnight ago at a local genetic research lab…McKenzie and Fonroy. Did you have anything to do with it?"
Silence.
"Mr. Erikson?"
Gerard fidgeted somewhat uncomfortably, admiring the bench he sat on, the four walls that enclosed him, the chair Holmes was sitting in, the security guards outside…anything but Holmes. "Mr. Erikson, I am not known to be a violent man, but my temper is rather on the thin side. You may be afraid of Moriarty, that is all well and good, and that healthy respect is rightfully given. However, as I am standing before you, an officer of the NSY is missing, and I don't believe the sergeants outside would mind turning away for a few moments while I 'persuade' you to answer my question, so, I will ask you one last time; were you the one who broke into McKenzie and Fonroy Office of Medical Reseach?"
Slowly, almost too slowly for Holmes current patience level, Erikson nodded his head, his mouth as thin as a line drawn with a pen. "What did you take?"
"Uh…testubes, an incubater, petree dishes, um…" Erikson scratched the side of his head and breathed out slowly, "couple microscopes, a centrifuge or two…"
"Was this for Moriarty or Fenwick?"
"I mean…both…"
"Both. Meaning Fenwick ordered you to obtain the items because Moriarty had some use of them." A shrug was his answer, and Holmes let that go. "Where was the last place you saw Fenwick?"
Erikson blinked. "On my vid-monitor. I don't know where these guys hang out."
"Really?" Holmes raised his eyebrows. "With such valued equipment I doubt that you would drop a shipment off like that just anywhere. You mean to tell me you've never seen Fenwick face to face, or met him anywhere?"
"I-I guess…"
"Take another guess, Gerard."
Wanted: Criminal Dynasty
Initially, Holmes had insisted on going with Watson to the McKenzie and Fonroy Office of Medical Research. In fact, insisted was too weak of a word. Safe to say that Holmes had demanded to accompany Watson, but the level seven compu-droid was having none of it. The world's greatest detective had been awake for over 36 hours straight, and Doctor Watson was very aware of the stress the human body could undergo when not properly rested. The very point that Holmes didn't even fight the decision for as long as Watson was expecting was a testament to that conclusion.
For 20 minutes in Grayson's office, the two went back and forth, until the Chief Inspector stepped in and ordered Sherlock Holmes, as a consultant to the New Scotland Yard Inspectors division, to undergo at least four hours of sleep before starting the case again. Holmes still fought that, until the Chief threatened to throw him in a cell and leave him in it until he remembered Holmes was down there, which wasn't likely to be for a while.
Sherlock relented after that.
Now, Watson was flying to the research lab in question. It was nearing seven in the morning, and he was hoping that as he landed the coach craft Holmes was sleeping on a couch somewhere in the New Scotland Yard headquarters.
As he powered down the hovercraft and released the hatch to open the doors, Watson noticed someone already coming out to greet him. She was a petite woman with short brown hair, glasses, and a pointed nose. Her green eyes were questioning her early morning visitor as she walked up to the coach.
"Good morning, Miss," Watson gave a slight bow and extended his hand, "my name is John Watson. I am on business from the New Scotland Yard. I was wondering if I could speak to one of the lead researchers of this facility."
"Well, I fit that description," the woman gripped Watson's robotic hand and gave it a light shake, "though I must say, it is odd for New Scotland Yard to send a compu-droid to do an inspectors work."
"I have only a few questions for you, I promise not to take up too much of your time."
"Oh don't worry about it," the woman shook her head, "I'm not offended, really. Actually, it's quite refreshing to see that the NSY is using their compu-droids for something other than fetching its officer's coffee. I'm Jane Fonroy, by the way."
"John Watson."
"You've said that already," Jane chuckled and turned away, leading Watson into the research facility. "So what can we do for New Scotland Yard?"
"Chief Inspector Grayson has asked me to convey to you that we have apprehended the thief who broke into your labs two weeks ago."
"That's great!" Jane grinned as she pressed her hand to a scanner and the doors slid open to grant them access. "When did you solve the case?"
"At precisely 2:47 this morning."
"Well, that's really wonderful," Jane smiled up at him, and if Watson had had an organic heart, it probably would have fluttered. "I really don't know what I can do to show my appreciation."
"Perhaps you can explain to me exactly what it is you do here at this lab facility." At her confused expression, Watson elaborated. "We have reason to believe the robbery that occurred at your facility may be linked to another crime that was committed in the past 48 hours." Reaching into his pocket, Watson pulled out a data pad and handed it to his fellow doctor. "There you will find a list of all that was stolen from the labs. If you could tell me what that equipment would be used for, it may help us answer some questions for our current case."
"No problem," Jane took the data pad from Watson and continued to walk down the pristine white hallway and into an office, which Watson presumed to be her own by the way it was decorated. When she finished looking over the notes, she glanced up at the compu-droid. "This is a genetic research lab, Doctor Watson. We study anything having to do with the genes of men and women, and what happens to those genes when they are fused during conception through a sperm and an egg. We study life from its most basic form through all its stages, up to and including death." She handed him the data pad and Watson accepted it back. "The equipment that was taken from us is generally used in creating life."
"Creating life?" Watson furrowed his brow in thought. "As in cloning?"
"Creating life as in In-Vitro Fertilization, the process by which an ovum is removed from a woman's ovary and fertilized outside her body, and then placed back in the womb in an attempt to conceive a child when sexual intercourse does not perform the act of conception as it's supposed to." Dr. Fonroy sat in the leather chair behind her desk and invited Watson to do the same. "It used to be a very slow process, usually taking days to incubate the sperm and eggs together to create a fertilized egg, but now a-days…" Jane shrugged, "with the technology we have, a man and woman could go to a medical facility, give their samples, the egg could be incubated within 24 hours and placed in a woman's womb 12 hours after that and just like that" she snapped her fingers, "the woman is pregnant, usually with a 92 percent success rate."
An incoming call on her vid-phone interrupted their conversation and she held up a finger to excuse herself. When she was finished, she stood up, an apologetic look on her face. "I'm sorry, Dr. Watson, but duty calls. I've been called to an impromptu meeting with the other researchers. I can get one of my assistants to show you out, if you like?"
"No, no," Watson held up a hand as he also stood up and aside so she could slide open her door, "don't trouble yourself, I am certain I can find the way quite easily. Thank you very much for taking the time."
"Not a problem," Jane grinned, "feel free to give me a call if you or New Scotland Yard need any other information from me." With that, she swept out of the office and down the hall, leaving Watson to look after her. Not for the first time, he found himself wondering how different his life would be if he were more like his ancient counterpart with regards to physicality. However, he brushed those thoughts aside as he headed out of the office and down the corridor towards the exit from which he'd come.
A thief of Moriarty and Fenwick's stealing equipment that was normally used to create life between two human's that couldn't do it naturally…and Lestrade going missing 12 days after…
Watson was not looking forward to facing Holmes on this one, and as he climbed into the hover coach and lifted off seconds later, he was counting his blessings that Sherlock had been made to stay behind and catch some sleep.
