Later, Sherlock, John, and Scarlett have arrived at the Tower and they are watching the recorded security footage taken from behind Jim as he sticks the gum onto the glass. From a distance it's not clear what he then pushes into the gum.

"That glass is tougher than anything," said Lestrade as he adjusts the footage.

"Not tougher than crystallized carbon. He used a diamond," Sherlock points out.

The footage also goes into reverse, showing the glass rising back up into place before it shattered. As Jim pulls the fire extinguisher back again and the glass becomes whole, the message which he scrawled onto it becomes clear. He deliberately wrote the words backwards on the glass so that they would be seen from the camera on the other side of the case the message reads:

GET

SHERLOCK

John and Scarlett turns and stares at Sherlock but his eyes are fixed on the screen.

In 221B. John is standing in front of the mirror in the living room. He is wearing a suit and finishes tying his tie before putting his jacket on. Near the sofa, Sherlock is buttoning up his own jacket. Scarlett was in her room wearing her new black dress her father bought, her hair were loose and curled, she put on a shade of makeup and look at herself in the mirror.

"Scarlett, are you ready?" Sherlock yelled for you.

Scarlett looks at the closed door, "Coming!" she yelled as she walks out of her room.

Sherlock leads the way downstairs and goes to the front door, then stops and turns to the side to allow John and Scarlett to pass him and reach out towards the door.

"Ready?" John asked.

Both Sherlock and Scarlett nod, "Yes."

Revitalizing himself, John opens the door. Police officers are trying to hold back the large crowd of journalists who immediately start photographing the three and calling out questions as the police clear the way and allow the three through to the waiting police car. They get into the back and the car pulls away and races off with its sirens wailing.

"Remember," but Sherlock cut John off.

"Yes," he said instantly.

"Remember…"

"Yes," Sherlock said even more quickly.

John looks away in frustration, then goes for broke and speaks quickly, "Remember what they told you: don't try to be clever ..."

"No," Sherlock interrupts him again.

"... and please, just keep it simple and brief."

"God forbid the star witness at the trial should come across as intelligent," Sherlock replied sarcastically.

"'Intelligent', fine; let's give 'smart-arse' a wide berth."

"I'll just be myself," Sherlock told him.

"Are you listening to me?" John asked sounding irritated.

"Oh my gosh you guys fight like an old married couple!" Scarlett rolls her eyes.

"Shut up Scarlett!" John snaps at her.

"I really don't understand why I have to come also," said Scarlett as she cross her arms on her chest.

"Because you were kidnapped by Moriarity remember?" John raised a brow.

"I know that… I just don't want to face him," Scarlett uttered as she look at the ground.

"You don't have to, we'll be with you," John smiles at her.

Scarlett nods, "I know."

"But that also means you have to keep it simple and brief," John pointed his fingers at her.

Scarlett roll her eyes, "Yes, mum~" she mocked.

Sherlock is in the bathroom at the Old Bailey washing his hands.

"Crown versus Moriarty – please proceed to Court Ten."

As he turns off the taps, a woman standing behind him and wearing a deerstalker hat stares at him in awestruck amazement as her bag slips out of her fingers and drops to the floor.

"You're him!" the woman gasps.

Sherlock roll his eyes, "Wrong toilet."

The woman ignores his remark, "I'm a big fan."

"Evidently," said Sherlock as he turns toward her.

"I read your cases; follow them all. Sign my shirt, would you?" she steps closer gazing at him admiringly. She peels back her coat to reveal that her blouse is opened quite low and she is showing a lot of cleavage. She offers him a pen which she already has in her hand.

"Having a 16 years old daughter I learned there are two types of fans," Sherlock told her.

The woman raised a brow, "OH?"

""Catch me before I kill again" Type A."

The woman nods her head, "Uh-huh. What's Type B?"

"Your bedroom's just a taxi ride away," Sherlock responded calmly.

The woman grins, locking her eyes on his, "Guess which one I am."

Sherlock runs his eyes down her body and does a speed deduction.

He answered instantly, "Neither."

The woman blinks nervously, "Really?"

He looks at the indentations just below her right wrist, "Those marks on your forearm: edge of a desk. You've been typing in a hurry, probably. Pressure on; facing a deadline."

The woman looks away, "That's all?"

"And there's a smudge of ink on your wrist; and a bulge in your left jacket pocket," he points out.

The woman shrugs, "Bit of a giveaway."

"The smudge is deliberate, to see if I'm as good as they say I am," he lifts her hand and sniffs the ink on her wrist.

"Hmm. Oil-based; used in newspaper print, but drawn on with an index finger; your finger. Journalist, unlikely you'd get your hands dirty at the press. You put that there to test me."

The woman smiles at him, "Wow, I'm liking you!"

"You mean I'd make a great feature: "Sherlock Holmes – the man beneath the hat"," he corrects her.

"Kitty Riley. Pleased to meet you," said Kitty as she took off her hat and offers her hand to him.

"No. I'm just saving you the trouble of asking. No, I won't give you an interview; no, I don't want the money. No, I'm not giving out any information about Scarlett or her mother," said Sherlock as he pushes past her, he heads for the door. She chases after him, "You and John Watson – just platonic? Can I put you down for a "no" there, as well?"

She stops him from opening the door and gets in his way, stepping well into his personal space. He breathes loudly and angrily.

"There are all sorts of gossip in the press about you. Sooner or later you're gonna need someone on your side ..." Reaching into her pocket, she holds up her business card and then tucks it into his breast pocket.

"... someone to set the record straight."

Sherlock smiles sarcastically, "And you think you're the girl for that job, do you?"

Kitty narrows her eyes at him, "I'm smart, and you can trust me, totally."

Sherlock nods, "Smart, okay: investigative journalist, Good. Well, look at me and tell me what you see."

She stares at him blankly; perhaps a little stunned by the way he is swaying gently in front of her, "If you're that skillful, you don't need an interview. You can just read what you need."

She looks awkward and can't continue to meet his eyes.

"No? Okay, my turn," said Sherlock as he paces around her as he looks her over.

"I look at you and I see someone who's still waiting for their first big scoop so that their editor will notice them. You're wearing an expensive skirt but it's been re-hemmed twice; only posh skirt you've got. And your nails: you can't afford to do them that often. I see someone who's hungry. I don't see smart like my daughter, and I definitely don't see trustworthy, but I'll give you a quote if you like three little words."

He reaches down and takes the Dictaphone from her pocket, holding it up to his mouth as she steps closer hopefully.

He took a deep breathy and slowly said, "You ... repel ... me."

He leaves the bathroom leaving Kitty who was now stunned and hurt.

Scarlett was leaning against the wall waiting for her father to come out of the bathroom. She looks at her cell phone and realized her father has been in the bathroom over 15minutes, which she found it odd. She spots her dad coming out of the bathroom, she sigh and walks towards him, "What took you so long?" She yelled. She stops when she saw a red head woman coming out of the same bathroom.

"Any point of me asking what happened in there?" she raised a brow.

"She just wanted an interview," he told her as they walking to the court room.

"You must have said something mean. She looked upset."

Sherlock roll his eyes, "I told her I was not interested doing an interview."

"You better watch what you say to them dad, they can make everyone turn your back," she warned him.

Sherlock shrugs, "So? What change will it make if people turn their back on me?"

Scarlett sigh with disappointment, "Just be careful what you say okay?"

Scarlett was called to give his evidence and is standing in the witness box. Jim is in the dock opposite of her, he smiles at her and gave her a wink, which made Scarlett tremble. John is sitting in the public gallery upstairs while Sherlock was sitting on the witness table.

"Ms. Holmes is this the same man that kidnapped you last May?" the prosecuting barrister asked.

Scarlett nods nervously, "Yes."

"You sure?"

Scarlett rolls her eyes, "A victim will always remember their kidnapper."

She looks up at Moriarity who was now nodding at her.

"Ms. Holmes would you tell us how you met James Moriarty?"

Scarlett nods her head, "I was walking in the street of London crying…"

"And why were you crying?" the prosecuting barrister interrupted her.

"I just found out that Sherlock Holmes was my biological father."

"Any why did this made you sad?" the prosecuting barrister continues to ask.

Scarlett roll her eyes, "Do you want me to tell you how I met him or not?" she raised her voice.

John rolls his eyes and covers his face with his hands.

The prosecuting barrister glares at her, "You may go on Ms. Holmes."

Scarlett smiles at her, "Thank you. While I was walking in the street of London. A black car pulled aside, he asked me what was wrong and told me to come into the car."

"Did you go into the car?"

Scarlett shook her head, "I told him no, since I didn't know who he was. When I was ready to walk away the car door opens and pulls me inside of the car and drove off."

"And nobody saw this happening?" the prosecuting barrister raised a brow.

Scarlett smirk, "There's a lot of things go around in London, but ordinary people rarely use their mind to see what's going on."

Scarlett looks at her father who was now smiling at her; he knew he taught his daughter so well.

"Ms. Holmes you've been called here to answer Miss Sorrel's questions, not to tell us your scientific fact!" The judge yelled at her angrily.

Scarlett glares at the judge, "I'm sorry… your honor."

"Ms. Holmes, what happened after James Moriarity kidnapped you?" Ms. Sorrel asked.

Scarlett gazed up at the ceiling trying to remember, "He locked me up in abandon shed for three days, and he tied me up in a chair. Gave me food and water which I refused to take because I thought they were poison. Then burn the shed and left me to die," Scarlett smiles at the crowd.

"How did you survive from the fire?"

Scarlett shrug, "My father rescued me of course."

"Where there any injuries?"

"Just a lung collapse," Scarlett replied sarcastically.

"Ms. Holmes how will you describe James Moriarity?"

Her smile drops and she was now facing Moriarity, "He's insane, playing his victims like a hunter waiting for its prey," she whispered.

The judge nods his head, "Thank you Ms. Holmes you may take your seat."

Scarlett gave a quick nod and went to join with her father.

"Nice job," he whispers to her without looking at her.

"Thanks," she replied.

"Mr. Holmes will you please come up to the stand," said the judge.

Sherlock sigh heavily and did what he was told.

"A "consulting criminal"," asked the prosecuting barrier.

"Yes."

"Your words. Can you expand on that answer?"

"James Moriarty is for hire."

The prosecuting barrier raised a brow, "A tradesman?"

Sherlock nods, "Yes."

"But not the sort who'd fix your heating," the prosecuting barrier joked.

"No, the sort who'd plant a bomb or stage an assassination, but I'm sure he'd make a pretty decent job of your boiler."

There's muffled laughter from some people in the court, and the prosecuting barrister tries to hide her smile, "Would you describe him as ..."

Sherlock cut her off, "Leading."

"What?"

"Can't do that. You're leading the witness. He'll object and the judge will uphold," said Sherlock as he looks toward the defending barrister.

"Mr. Holmes," said the judge looking annoyed.

"Ask me how. How would I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him? Do they not teach you this?" Sherlock mocked them.

"Mr. Holmes, we're fine without your help!"

"How would you describe this man, his character?" the prosecuting barrier correct herself.

"First mistake. James Moriarty isn't a man at all – he's a spider; a spider at the center of a web – a criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances," said Sherlock as he gaze at Moriarty who was nodding his head in approval of the description while the prosecuting barrister clears her throat awkwardly.

"And how long ..."

Sherlock closed his eyes in annoyance, "No, no, don't-don't do that. That's really not a good question."

"Mr. Holmes!" said the judge angrily.

"How long have I known him? Not really your best line of enquiry. We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun; he tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something," Sherlock replied sarcastically.

"Miss Sorrel, are you seriously claiming this man is an expert, after knowing the accused for just five minutes?" ask the judge with disbelief.

"Two minutes would have made me an expert. Five was ample."

"Mr. Holmes, that's a matter for the jury."

"Oh, really?"

Scarlett and John took a deep breathe, they knew what was going to happen next, and it was not going to pretty.

"One librarian; two teachers; two high-pressured jobs, probably the City. The foreman's a medical secretary, trained abroad judging by her shorthand."

"Mr. Holmes!" the judge yelled furiously.

But Sherlock ignored him and continues, "Seven are married and two are having an affair – with each other, it would seem! Oh, and they've just had tea and biscuits. Would you like to know who ate the wafer?" Sherlock turns to the judge.

The judge looked at him angrily, "Mr. Holmes. You've been called here to answer Miss Sorrel's questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual prowess. Keep your answers brief and to the point. Anything else will be treated as contempt. Do you think you could survive for just a few minutes without showing off?"

Sherlock paused for a moment while Scarlett mouths her father to stop. But he smiles at her and began to open his mouth. Five minutes later he was removed from the court immediately, and they both merely sat there pissed off.

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