John paced up and down the living room, frantically running has hands repeatedly through his now static hair. It was past midday and time was running out. Lestrade stood in the door way, his eyes wide with worry.

'Shit, Shit, Shit,' he muttered,' Sherlock what are we going to do?'

'Get me the phone,' Sherlock's voice was still incredibly normal.

'Sherlock we don't have time to make calls!' John had to breathe sharply between each word to stop himself from yelling in his face. Sherlock looked at him with a blank expression as he bought the phone up to his ear, what did John think he was doing? Ordering a pizza?

'Hello?' came a soft woman's voice from the other end.

'Everyone SHUT UP!' Sherlock shouted as he put his hand over the phones microphone ,' Ah hello,' his voice was bright and linguistic,' it's Sherlock Holmes here and I was just calling to ask some questions about your daughter, Kitty…' Sherlock purposefully made his voice trail off as if forgetting something.

'Well I'm so sorry but I don't know a Kitty, do you mean Caroline? Caroline Riomarty?'

'Ah yes, Caroline, Kitty is a erm nickname,' Sherlock looked at John and rose his eyebrow with a smile.

'So, her names not Kitty?' Lestrade muttered to John, his mouth full of cake. John was distracted by listening to Sherlock carry on. He knew what Sherlock was doing. He was calling her adopted mum to see if he could get any scraps of facts to figure out where 'Kitty' was, or why Jim Moriarty had taken her.

'Riomarty?' Sherlock continued,' does she have an Italian background?'

'I'm not sure,' the woman relaxed, there was something about that Mr Holmes' voice that relaxed her, 'I'm sure she's told you but she's adopted'

Sherlock faked a gasp 'No way! No she hasn't mentioned that. You don't happen to know where the adoption house was?'

'South London, it was called Mayday House' The woman was easier to break than Sherlock had thought.

'Did she have any…enemies?' Sherlock suddenly became serious and rigid, the atmosphere stiffened. The woman coughed uncomfortably,' it's just she's in a bit of an odd mood and I'm worried about her'

'Well, she's a twin,' the woman's voice was husky as if she was telling him the deepest secret,' James his name was. They were in care together, never separated. Caroline was a sweet child, it was her brother. It's ridiculous to say but, the boy was evil. He'd got the pair kicked out of practically every child's home in England. By the age of 8 he had Caroline hacking into bank websites and government files. He had a way with her, even as a child. If he didn't eat, she wouldn't eat. I couldn't give you certain evidence but he'd… bully her into getting his way,' Sherlock's mind flicked back to the image of the deep bruising on the girls arms,' She was 10 when me and my husband went to see her. Small for a child of her age, her hair was long and black. I remember her looking so broken, like a puppy kicked out on Christmas Eve. We were told about James, about how they couldn't be separated, but we didn't want another boy, we had four already and from what we'd been told of him, Mr Holmes, he wasn't right in the head. So we took her home, for years she was part of the family. Then she started getting letters, strange men came to the house, odd phone calls in the middle of the night. We sent her to stay with my friend in London to get her away from them and since she's been gone they've stopped – hello? Hello? Mr Holmes? Hello?...'

Sherlock had hung up, he'd heard enough. He threw the phone onto his armchair and pulled on his coat whilst he made his way to the door.

'Grab your coat John, Gary-

'Greg!'

'-Greg we need your police car, no not the police car or he'll panic...,' Sherlock rolled up his sleeve and glanced at his watch, 'we have an hour'

'An hour until what?' chimed Lestrade and John, confused.

'Until she's in real danger'