Sherlock stood up then and looked down at Dr. Bell. "You, a serial killer. No. That can't be."
"Why not?"
"All of the time we've been together, you've never acted, you've never shown..."
"That is not evidence. A psychopath can lie and deceive people. The facts, Sherlock! The facts are all that you can trust. If you think I'm not the killer give me evidence WHY I am not!"
Sherlock placed his fingertips against his lips and thought. "The book, the dimple. You were at the party at the time that Mary Ann Maxim was killed. You were there, not your brother. He was the one who had the time and the motive to kill his fiancée. She wanted to leave him. It was logical that they would be together then. You were mistaken for your brother, and you let them mistake you rather than take away his only alibi, but you must have suspected. You must have known then that it was true. Your brother WAS the Black Neck Killer, wasn't he?"
"Yes."
"Did you know that when you went to the party?"
"No. I was just feeling sorry for myself because... because I didn't have anyone. My brother and sister had found partners, but I was alone."
"You should tell the police."
"Why?"
"For truth."
"What good would it do for them to know the truth? What good would it do for my sister to know that her brother was a murderer? None. In fact, it would do her harm. Did you never wonder why I don't date anymore? It isn't that I'm not attracted to women. I have consciously chosen not to get involved with others.
"My brother called me, the day he died. He left a message on my phone telling me everything. He told me that he liked power. It turned him on. At first he was afraid to show his fiancée, so he took out other women. Did things with them. The first girl who died was an accident, but the second one wasn't. Mary Ann began to suspect that something was wrong. She tried to break up with him. He tied her down. Tried to reason with her, but the combination of the woman that he loved and the power became too much for him. He couldn't help himself. He loved Mary Ann. Her death destroyed him. Guilt destroyed him. He begged me to talk to him. To talk him out of killing himself. I got the message in time. I could have saved him, but I didn't. I let my brother kill himself.
"He was my twin brother. The closest person in the world to me, and yet, he became something...sick, twisted and dark. Many people believe that psychopathy is genetically determined. It could have been me. So, I avoid the addiction by becoming asexual. Crisis averted."
Sherlock stared at Robert as if he had never seen him before, and then he said with emotion in his voice, "Dr Bell, you are not your brother."
"I know," Robert said. "I'm smarter than he was."
Robert rose then and began to make tea and breakfast. Sherlock picked up the photographs. Afterward, Robert dressed and went to the museum to sign his contract.
The exhibit would remain on display in London for fifteen days before being shipped to a museum in Boston, Massachusetts. Richard would go a week or two ahead of time to prepare. He typed a resignation letter and handed it to Sherlock over dinner. They ate in silence, and then Sherlock went to the couch and lay down with his back to the rest of the room.
The first sign of trouble came when he tried to buy a plane ticket. Every request that he made was canceled. He went in person to the airport, and found that his passport was not in order. "Mycroft," he sighed.
Mycroft's office had cream-colored walls and red curtains. A portrait of the queen as a young woman hung behind his desk. "How may I help you, Dr. Bell?" Mycroft said in his mellifluous voice.
"You've done something to my passport so that I can't leave the country."
"But why would you want to leave the country, Dr Bell? There are so many opportunities right here."
"I haven't noticed any."
"Simply because you have not been looking in the right places." Mycroft slid a pamphlet across the desk. "East Hampton University, London. Not a large university, no, but one that is growing. They are looking for someone like you to head their Chemistry Department. They are not a big name in research. But they have it in their charter that they put teaching first. I forwarded a copy of your CV to them and they are interested, very interested. You have an interview set for Thursday. I'll send a car round. You don't have to worry about anything."
"I don't need you to find a job for me, Mr Holmes. I have already found one, and I want you to lift whatever black mark it is that is stopping the airlines from reserving my flight."
"I'm sorry, Dr. Bell, but I need you to remain a while longer. At least until Sherlock has settled into his new school."
"No."
"If you leave, Sherlock could regress to his old bad habits. He's entirely too smart for the schools that we can place him in, and too undisciplined to be on his own. You've done an amazing job with him. It would be worth a great deal to me if you would remain. I could double your current salary."
"My agreement is with Sherlock, not you."
"Sherlock doesn't need to know about our agreement. Let him think that he is still paying you. You'll be making much more than the museum can pay."
"I've already made my decision, but I think that the newspapers might be interested in hearing how a British citizen is being denied his right to leave the country."
"Dr. Bell, have you ever heard of the 'brain drain'? Britain's finest minds are being lured away to jobs in other countries. It is in our best interests to do whatever we can to prevent that flight."
"You're going to have a hard time trying to use that argument with me. I'm an unemployed chemistry instructor, not one of the finest minds in Great Britain."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that."
"You have no right stop me. I've already signed with my new job, and Sherlock has accepted my resignation."
"I think that you'll find that he has NOT accepted it. He is quite fond of you, Dr. Bell. I think that he would do almost anything to keep from losing you."
Robert thought of Sherlock alone in the flat. What would a fourteen year old think the best way to prevent someone from leaving would be. Cut up his identification card? Send more fake messages on his laptop? Burn down the flat?
He turned and left the office. Mycroft rose from his seat and said to his back, "Good day, Dr. Bell. I hope to see you again very soon."
He found Sherlock in his bedroom, cross-legged on the floor with a half-smoked cigarette hanging out of his mouth. All of Robert's clothes had been dumped in a pile beside his bed. Robert batted the cigarette onto the floor and stomped on it. Then he picked up a shirt and looked at the row of cigarette burns across the front.
"You're buying me a new shirt," he said, "and I thought that we had agreed, no more cigarettes."
"What does it matter? In a few days, it'll all be over anyway."
Robert rubbed his hand across his hair and sighed in frustration. Then he sat on the edge of his bed and pulled Sherlock up to sit beside him.
"Sherlock, let's have a talk man to man."
"How can we when I'm only a child?"
"Can you put aside your hurt for a minute and listen to me? You asked me to teach you how I read people. Did I teach you something useful, or did I lie to you?"
"You didn't lie to me."
"So my teaching was useful to you?"
"Of course."
"It was what you wanted to learn?"
"Absolutely."
"At any point did I try to cheat you or renege on our bargain?"
"No. I mean, no sir."
"Then why are you trying to cheat me? You accepted my resignation letter. Where is it by the way?"
"I burned it."
"Where did you burn it?"
"In the bathtub. Don't worry, I cleaned it up."
"Good. It's just... we made an agreement man to man, and a man should always honor his agreements."
"I don't want our agreement to end."
"Sherlock, my getting a job doesn't mean that I'll never see you again. But even if it did mean that, you should stand by your word, because that is what an adult does. And if you want others to treat you as an adult, then you have to act like one. An adult sometimes has to deny themselves what they want, in order to do what's right. You don't need me to hold your hand anymore. So, will you let me go?"
Sherlock nodded slowly.
"And when I'm gone, will you go to that new school and ignore the stupid people long enough to finish so that eventually you can do what you want to do?"
He bowed his head again solemnly.
Robert smiled. "I'm proud of you. I know that one day, you'll become a force for good in the world. Now, help me pack these things. We're going to run away."
Sherlock looked up sharply. "Really?"
"Yes. I am not naive enough to believe that your brother doesn't have this apartment watched. If I'm going to find a way to get to my new job, I'll have to break out of this cage first. Are you with me?"
"Yes!"