This chapter is quite different, in my opinion. It shows a different side to Sally that we haven't seen before, something a little more violent. Something I think she gets from both John and her dad.
Hope you enjoy it.
Chapter Eight: Back Alley Paint Fight
The next morning, when Patrick went to answer the door to Sally, he had barely got to the bottom of the stairs before she came rushing through the door on a warpath.
"Woah, calm down spitfire!"
"Don't tell me to calm down. My dad and my mum are on a stakeout right now, along with my Uncle John and Greg, and they've made a stupid, stupid mistake!"
"What? How did they make a mistake?" Asked Patrick as he rushed after her up the stairs. "This is your dad we're talking about."
"I'll tell you on the way, I've got to get ready fast." Quickly, she rushed getting her disguise on, Patrick having to help put her contacts in she was rushing so much. She applied the foundation almost like a fake tan, and pinned the wig firmly in place, adding the hat on top. She applied the nail varnish, and used a drying spray she had Patrick pick up the night before, when she knew she'd be in a rush the next morning.
"They were talking about it at dinner last night. I knew I'd have to wait for them to leave first before going out after them – they left early this morning." She grabbed her coat, and the two teenagers rushed out of the door.
"Christine Greengrass is the only witness left to go missing. She's been placed under virtual house arrest with police protection. My dad and mum had both my Uncle John and Greg round last night, going over the floor plans of the house, looking for any entrances or exits the kidnappers might use. But they missed something on the side of the house."
"How did your dad, and your mum both miss this?"
"They weren't thinking small enough. The police have the front of the house covered, while my parents and John are hidden at the back. The right-hand side is attached to the house next door. But the left side of the house is hidden by a tall fence, followed by an alley. It's a small enough gap that it wouldn't be somewhere the police would think to look. On that side of the house there is a window. It's small, but big enough for someone to climb through."
"Shit!"
"Doesn't matter how many men they have guarding the back and front, they still won't catch them if they've found the same problem."
"But it's possible? That they haven't found it either? I mean, if your parents managed to miss it, then surely they'll never even think about it."
"That's not a risk I'm willing to take." They rounded the corner, and Sally went pale as they saw an unobtrusive white van parked in the alley next to Christine Greengrass' house. They hurried towards it, hoping to see if the kidnappers were still inside, when Patrick heard movement just behind the fence. He grabbed Sally's hand, and pulled her away from the van, and into an alcove on the left side of the alley. They pressed against the wall, hands still grasping the other's tightly.
They watched as one man climbed the fence, gun in hand, and stood waiting on the other side. Next came Christine; short blond hair framed a tear stained face. She almost fell on the other side of the fence, but the first man caught her, and held her firmly against him, pressing his gun into her neck. Lastly, another man vaulted the fence, another gun in his hand.
"Why haven't they knocked her out? Why take the risk leading her out at gunpoint?" Hissed Patrick.
"It's a lot easier to make someone climb a fence at gunpoint than haul the dead weight of an unconscious person over a seven-foot fence. They're clearly doing this as quickly as possible, any delays could risk them getting caught by mum and dad." Muttered Sally.
"What do we do? Call them?"
"No time."
"Then what." Sally turned to him, and smirked. She pulled a small spray can out of her bag.
"Follow me." And with that, she ran full tilt out of the alley, and sprayed the first man, still holding Christine, in the face. A blue substance flew out and hit him straight in the eyes. He yelled and dropped the girl, crumpling to the floor. Patrick was there to pick her up, and pulled her quickly out of danger into the alcove they'd just run out of.
Sally went to spray the second man in the same way, but he knocked the spray out of her hand. He went to punch her, but she dodged the blow, and his knuckles just glanced across the side of her temple. She ducked under his arm and grabbed him around the neck, holding him too close to swing for her. Then she punched him in the nose repeatedly, until it began to bleed. After he stopped trying to shake her off, she let him go. He stumbled, and she used his stagger to dart behind him, and kick him in the back of the knee, sending him falling to the ground. She grabbed his hands, and fished a pair of handcuffs out of her coat pocket; ones she had nicked from Greg Lestrade. She tied his hands behind his back, and hurried towards where Patrick was holding a sobbing Christine away from the fighting.
"Efficient." He commented. "Not exactly black belt martial arts skills, but it got the job done."
"Better than you could do, I'm sure."
"Oh, probably." His smile dropped as he looked at the other man. "Blue spray paint."
"More useful than you think."
"He could be blind now."
"He tried to kidnap someone. Here's hoping." They probably would have continued, but they heard shouts from around the corner, and knew they had to get away fast, or risk being caught. Sally grabbed Christine by the shoulders.
"Listen to me. You didn't see us. You don't know who helped you. Don't describe what we look like to the police, don't tell the press what happened today, and for God's sake, don't say anything to anyone whose last name is Holmes."
"Sally!" Hissed Patrick, already halfway up a set of metal steps up the side of the building at the back of the alley. Sally wasted no more time, and ran after him.
Not twenty seconds later, Sherlock and John sprinted around the corner, followed by Irene and then Lestrade, only to find their two criminals on the floor, moaning in pain, one handcuffed and the other blinded by paint. John immediately rushed towards the paint job, while Irene stepped towards the man in the handcuffs, ignoring the human sprawled on the floor and studying the metal rings. Sherlock was scanning the alley, looking for whoever had saved the victim. Lestrade ran for Christine, moving her away from the crime to somewhere more comfortable, and letting Sherlock deal with the criminals for now.
"Sherlock, what the hell happened?" Asked John, mind working at what to do for the man whose sight was at severe risk.
"Someone else was here. Someone who knew about the window before we did."
"Who? Who could possibly know all of this."
"I have an idea." Interjected Irene, studying the handcuffs she had just removed, while a police officer stepped up to take away the man with the bleeding face. "Recognise these handcuffs?" Sherlock paused to study them, before scowling in recognition.
"These are Lestrade's." John looked up from what he was doing.
"But Lestrade was with us."
"John, if you know anything about this family, you know that Holmes' have a penchant for pick pocketing unsuspecting Detective Inspectors for fun." John considered this for a moment, before realisation dawned on his face.
"You can't possibly mean... No. Not Sally. How would she know about the window?"
"She heard us last night. Maybe even got a look at the plans, saw that we'd missed the window, and the alley, and ran headfirst into the fray." Irene said, watching Sherlock. His face had turned to thunder, and he was glaring at the handcuffs as if they had personally offended him.
"So, she did this. On her own?" Asked John.
"No." Growled Sherlock. "She's roped one of her bloody mates into this."
"My bet is on Patrick." Interjected Irene.
"I don't care which one it is, all I care about right now is wringing Sarah's bloody neck! I told her she wasn't to get involved. This is too dangerous. All the signs are there for this to be as risky a case as Moriarty years ago. There hasn't been a gang this big since his little web. She could get herself killed, for God's sake!"
"Sherlock, just calm down, all right?" John said, as the ambulance arrived, and took away the second kidnapper. "Much as I don't want her to be any part of this, if she hadn't gone involved this time, Christine Greengrass would be missing already, and we'd be stuck trying to work out how to find yet another victim. You can talk to her when you get home tonight; for now, let's just–"
"We can't talk to her tonight, apparently." Called Irene, studying her phone. Sherlock whipped around.
"What?"
"She's just texted. She's staying at Milly's tonight, apparently." John sighed. Sherlock's black scowl grew darker.
"Which means she's anywhere but there."
"Damn it." Muttered John. Sherlock turned on his heel.
"Come on!" He called after them.
"Where are we going?" Asked John.
"We're going to deal with the kidnappers, and then I'm going to cart Sarah back home by her ankles, and lock her in the flat for the rest of her life."
So, Sherlock is a very overprotective Daddy. They will have a nice, non-argumentative scene at some point, I promise. Until this case came along, Sally was very much her father's daughter, but she resented being left out of the case, knowing everyone she loves is involved, and very aware that is all that will be talked about by her family until its' solved. She is almost too like her dad in stubbornness.
Hope you're liking the story so far guys.
Keep reading,
ReaderMagnifique.
