Just to let you know this is my last but one chapter. We are so close to the end now. And thank you all so much for sticking with it. I'm thinking on doing a couple of sequels. I have a few ideas floating around which may be good. I hope you guys would like more?
But in the meantime I'd like to thank those who reviewed my last chapter: Susanna, ScreamsOnScreen, GracefullyClumsy, Ceville, MyPartnerInCrime, Tracy137, anon47, WordsWrittenByHeart, blod1tatws, OhTex, Laudine, whatwouldsherlockdo, bad2wolf2mcgee, insaneradio, ILoveHLaurie, LiLiAnKa, wtldr, Rhea Bleu & TheDoctorsMistress.
Enjoy the last but one chapter of Laws of Familiarity.
Sherlock hopped out of the cab as it pulled up outside the apartments just off Cleveland Street.
He glanced up and down the street but there was no one to be seen.
The street was deserted.
What had happened here?
Sherlock ran up to the fenced gates surrounding the large tower block, as the cab pulled off behind him.
He gave them a tug. They were locked.
He could easily get in, he was Sherlock Holmes, but the whole place looked empty. Perhaps it was pointless.
Had Irene just led him into a wild and pointless goose-chase?
Giving low growl, Sherlock furiously kicked at the fence in frustration, but his anger was soon cut short as loud vaudeville style music filled the empty street.
The detective swung around, his eyes coming to rest upon the large boarded up Pavilion Theatre across the road, where a low tune was floating from.
Letting his intrigue get the better of him, Sherlock marched off towards the gigantic building.
John hoisted open the door to 221b, his mobile pressed to his ear.
"Come on Rebecca pick up," he muttered under his breath.
"Why don't you try Sherlock?" said Sarah, catching up with him, the shivering Toby held tightly in her arms. "Maybe he's with her or at least knows where she is?"
John nodded and dialled Sherlock number quickly as he called for their landlady. "Mrs Hudson!"
As the dial tone rang out, the tiny form of Mrs Hudson appeared around the banister.
"John is everything okay?" asked the woman with a worried look.
John tugged the phone from his ear and swung around to stare at the old woman.
"It's Rebecca. We found Toby out on his own, his leash still attached," he said gesturing to the little dog. "Is Sherlock in? Is he with her?"
Mrs Hudson clutched at her chest. "I don't know dears. I saw Sherlock leaving with a woman just over an hour ago. Black hair, too much make-up."
John looked from Mrs Hudson to Sarah.
"And there was no sign of Rebecca?" he asked the old woman breathlessly.
Mrs Hudson shook her head. "I heard the front door shut a little while before that. It could have been Rebecca leaving I suppose?"
John bit his lip, rubbing his face with his hand as worry overwhelmed him.
"I'm going to try Sherlock again," he said grabbing his phone and raising in to his ear. "He must know something!"
Sherlock crept around the corner just inside the entrance of the old Pavilion Theatre, as the music grew louder and louder.
His sight was suddenly drawn to the empty theatre space, where hundreds of red seats lined the floor before him. Up at the far end of the huge room was a dark wood-stained stage area, but through the gloom it was barely visible.
Creeping silently down the steps, Sherlock gazed around searching for the source of the noise, but the air itself seemed to be filled with the strange piano music.
The detective's heart pounded.
Something wasn't right here.
His phone suddenly beeped loudly in his pocket, shaking the quiet detective.
If there was someone here they most certainly knew they weren't alone now.
Quickly plucking the mobile from his pocket, Sherlock glanced down at the screen.
It was John.
Sherlock tried his best not to roll his eyes.
He was just about to ignore the ringing call when a loud voice suddenly rang out throughout the echoey room.
"Aren't you going to answer that?" came a simpering male voice, causing Sherlock to duck quickly into an aisle and gaze around searching for the source.
"What's the matter Sherlock?" continued the voice, as the detective righted himself. "Scared?"
Sherlock gritted his teeth, his eyes travelling up towards the projection room above the back of the room, to where a figure was silhouetted in the low light.
"Not at all," sniffed the detective, circling around the seating area in an attempt to get to the back of the room so that he could find the projection box and consequently the owner of the voice.
But his movement's seemed to be quickly spotted.
"Ah ah ahh Sherlock. You naughty boy," said the voice quickly. "You don't think I'm going to let you get away that easily do you? Not when we have lots of fun awaiting us."
Sherlock growled under his breath. "Moriarty I presume?"
The voice suddenly let out a cold, chilling laugh. "Spot on Mr Holmes. It's nice to meet you at last."
Sherlock grimaced. "Well I would exactly call this a meeting. Why don't you come down here and face me like a man."
The voice laughed again. "Well I would, but I think it might get in the way of more pressing matters."
Sherlock scoffed, circling back around the aisle. "And they would be?"
"Well the life and death of Ms Irene Adler perhaps?" shrieked the voice.
Suddenly a large spotlight hit the left side of the stage illuminating a figure tied to a chair with a purple strip of C4 strapped to her chest.
Irene.
John stood in the flat wringing his hands.
Rebecca wasn't picking up and neither was Sherlock.
John was worried.
It was very like Sherlock to rush off at the drop of a hat but not Rebecca...
She would never have just abandoned Toby.
She cared too much about the little dog for that.
The doctor jumped as Sarah placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder.
He swung around to face her.
"You're really worried aren't you?" she muttered concernedly.
John sighed. "It's not like her to just run off like that," he muttered rubbing his eyes with his hand.
Sarah pulled the blonde man into a warm hug. "Don't worry, perhaps she's with Sherlock. He'll make sure nothing happens to her..."
Sherlock's eyes widened as he took in the petrified form of Irene Adler, tied to a chair, a gag in her mouth and a hefty amount of explosive strapped to her.
Sherlock made to run towards her but suddenly a tiny red dot appeared upon the raven-haired woman's head.
"I wouldn't do that if were you," came Moriarty's eerie voice. "One wrong move Sherlock, and that might be the last you'll see of Ms Adler."
Sherlock gulped and backed off, knowing that this man Moriarty was serious.
"Untie her," yelled Sherlock angrily spinning around on the spot.
He tried to gaze up at the projection room, searching for Moriarty's silhouette once again, but as he did so, a bright spotlight was placed upon him, blinding his vision.
The Detective raised a hand in an attempt to shield his eyes. "Why are you doing this?" he shouted, as his phone began to ring once more.
"You know, you really should answer that Sherlock," said Moriarty. "It might be important."
Sherlock ignored it, instead gazing back towards Irene.
"It's me you want Moriarty," he said valiantly. "Let her go and take me instead."
There was a moment before Moriarty's chilling laugh filled the empty theatre. "But where's the fun in that?" he cried. "I want to find out where your loyalties lie Sherlock. Find out what's really important to you."
Sherlock grimaced. "I have no loyalties," he growled.
"No?" said Moriarty innocently. "Well then you wouldn't mind if I ended Ms Adler's life right now then would you?"
Two more red dots suddenly appeared on Irene's temples as he said this.
Sherlock gulped, he wanted to argue this point, but knew that he didn't have much of a choice.
"Leave her," he muttered after a moment, his teeth gritted.
"Ooooh," came the bodiless voice once again. "You do have loyalties then Mr Holmes. Does she intrigue you?...Ms Irene Adler?...Does she get your pulse racing?"
Moriarty cackled mockingly. "Or is there someone else?"
Sherlock suddenly stopped in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat.
"A certain lawyer perhaps?" continued Moriarty.
Sherlock suddenly paled, his heart pounding between his ribs.
"So Sherlock Holmes," continued the voice. "Where does your heart really lie? With your work and Ms Adler or perhaps with someone else?"
Sherlock didn't answer.
He didn't even know what to say?
What was the truth?
Where did his heart lie? Even he wasn't so sure.
"Cant make up your mind?" shouted Moriarty loudly. "Well perhaps this will help..."
There was beat before a second spotlight suddenly hit the right hand side of the stage illuminating a second figure.
Sherlock's eyes widened and his heart seemed to skip a beat as his eyes came to rest on the trembling person before him.
She was in a chair identical to Irene, long caramel hair flowing down her head, gag in mouth and tears in eyes. But Sherlock could not bear to let his gaze linger on the C4 strapped to her chest.
Not her. Not...
"Rebecca..."
Oooooh one more chapter to go.
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