Chapter 12

8 September 2013 10:45am

Irene lets herself back into her house in one of the affluent parts of London. 'Amy?' She calls closing the front door behind her. She walks forward in the hall and Amy appears from the sitting room. Irene freezes at the scared expression on the maid's face. She marches past the terrified girl and into the room. 'Jimmy.' she greets him with a completely false smile.

'You ran to lover boy.' Jim replies. Irene glares at him standing defensively

'You decided it was fun to have your stooges beat me up.' Jim opens his mouth to defend his actions. 'And no Sherlock did not treat me. John did.' Jim sneers at the mention of the army doctor. Irene forces herself to relax her stance. 'Fortunately for you, Sherlock doesn't know.'

'Not even when you slept with him?'

'He's on a case. He doesn't sleep.' Irene settles herself onto the sofa. 'What do you want Jim?

'You know what I want.' He stands and walks over to Irene. He leans in crowding her. 'And you know what I would do to get It.' he leans back suddenly, a thought occurring to him. 'Is his case the quadruple murder at the Commissioner of police's house?'

'Yes.' Irene replies cautiously. Jim retakes his seat in the chair facing away from the window. 'Why?'

'Have the victims been identified?'

'Why?' Irene's tone is more curious than cautious.

'Is this going back to the detective?'

'More than likely.'

'Have they?'

'As far as I know only one has.'

'Was one of them mutilated and decapitated?' Irene shrugs. 'One should have multiple cuts down the chest bone, and another should have various cuts all over the body.' Jim grimaces. 'Aaaaaand one should be poisoned. But may or may not be tortured as well.' Jim pulls a disgusted face. 'Talk about overkill, even I'm not that bad.'

'So this ones aren't yours?'

'My victims are bombed, shot, tortured, stabbed, beaten, poisoned or exploded. Not a mixture.'

'And you know who it is?' Jim laughs with out humour.

'Like I would tell you.' Irene inspects her nails.

'Would you want to risk having someone trying to take your empire away from you?'

'You scheming little devil.'

'Thank you.'

'But you haven't confirmed whether I was right or not.'

'Stay quiet then.' Irene takes out her phone and dials Sherlock's mobile number.

'Irene, get off the line I'm busy-'

'The four victims were treated differently weren't they?'

'Go on.' Sherlock says carefully.

'One was poisoned, two had multiple cuts down the breastbone, three had slashes all over and four was decapitated and mutilated.' Jim sneers at the confirmation.

'How do you know?' Suspicion laces Sherlock's voice.

'Our darling friend, wanted to attempt to persuade me.'

'Is he still there?'

'Yes.' Jim replies for her.

'You want to help?' scorn is evident in Sherlock's tone of voice.

'Do you want two empires around?'

'It would be more fun to clear up both.' Jim snorts.

'No it wouldn't. It would be boring. The police would be able to clear everything up without needing you.' A click is heard as Sherlock aborts the call. 'I think that means I win.'

'Really?' Irene asks him. 'I think that's him marshalling the troops and coming here.' A text alert sounds on Irene's phone. She reads it and grins. 'I was right.'

Ten minutes later the doorbell rings and Irene's maid answers the door. Irene leaves the sitting room to greet the people at the door. 'Inspector Lestrade, welcome to my humble abode.'

'Humble?' Lestrade chuckles. 'Are you sure about that Irene?' Lestrade enters the hours leading another man behind him. The two of them hand their coats to Amy and follow Irene into the sitting room. She pauses before the door.

'Did Sherlock say anything about why you had to come here?'

'He said something about an unpleasant surprise for police officers.' Irene giggles.

'Personally, I think he would love to be called that.'

'Not Moriarty?'

'Problem Inspector?' Jim's asks from his chair.

'Apart from the fact you have organised the killing of several people, threatened John, tried to make Sherlock kill himself, kidnapped innocent children, and broke into several high security venues, no not really.' Lestrade mutters sarcastically. 'When's Sherlock getting here?'

'He'll be here in about ten minutes. Tea?'

'Please. Dimmock?'

'Please.' DI Dimmock speaks for the first time. Amy retreats from the sitting room to make the tea for everyone.

'How was the Commissioner?' Irene asks Lestrade.

'Let's put it this way. If anyone insults Sherlock while in the vicinity of the yard then god help them. I certainly won't be.'

'Says the man who's getting a raise because he put up with the sociopath from the beginning.'

'How do you know that?'

'I was in accounting when the Commissioner came in to update your wage packet and to find me.' Lestrade looks interested and amused.

'Of course, I don't know about that.' They laugh and Amy enters bearing a tea tray she sets it on the coffee table in the centre of the room. The sound of the front door opening floats into the sitting room followed by the voices belonging to Donovan and Sherlock.

'You shouldn't be picking locks.'

'I have to keep my hand in. Besides, my uncle gave me Carte blanche remember?'

'To pick the locks of your girlfriend's house?'

'Irene doesn't care. She does it to me all the time.' his voice rises. 'At least I don't break the window locks.' Sherlock opens the door to the living room and stares at Irene who returns the gazes just as intently. She glances at Jim causing Sherlock to shift his gaze towards Jim.

'Hello Sherlock.' Jim greets him in his singsong voice. Sherlock steps away from the door to allow Donovan and John to enter the room.

'What do want James?' Sherlock asks.

'To help.'

'Why?' John asks.

'Can't I give an offer to help Britain's finest without an ulterior motive?

'Umm…. No.' Sherlock states categorically. Jim takes out his phone and looked though the various menus and folders.

'I noticed a very beautiful suit the day before yesterday. Obviously tailored but not for the person wearing it.' Jim tosses the phone to Sherlock who looks at the picture on the screen.

'Who are they?' Jim smirks refusing to answer. 'Jim, who are they?'

'Former employees of mine.'

'Nice and vague, thank you James.' Jim Moriarty glares at Sherlock.

'When I say former I mean current but acting under their own steam. Disobeying orders.' Jim leans forward and puts on simpering tone. 'Lockie, Lockie, Lockie, do you really think I would actively order a ruddy excuse of a being to perpetrate a quad-murder in your uncle's home.' Jim sighs. 'I thought you knew me Lockie. How is a quad-murder playing my kind of game?'

'Your kind of game? Since when was murder, multiple murder at that, a game?' Dimmock is astounded.

'Seriously, Inspector? You're asking a self-proclaimed sociopath and a self-proclaimed psychopath about not making murder into a game.' Irene leans forward engaging Dimmock's full attention. 'the thing you need to know about James Seamus Moriarty is that everything is a game to him. We are all chess pieces in his hands. Except when something or someone with intelligence like Sherlock and Mycroft-'

'And yourself Miss Adler dear.' Jim and Sherlock interject simultaneously.

'-okay and myself, comes in and interrupts everything he has carefully planned therefore drawing his interest. Thereby, starting the game.' She leans back 'everything is just one big game of cat and mouse… or rather Lockie and Jimmy's case, two tom cats. Understand?' Dimmock shakes his head. Lestrade claps him on the back.

'Don't worry mate, most of us mortals don't.' Sherlock's eyes light up.

'Go on spill.'