Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Appledore Vaults
I don't take us long to get to Appledore in the helicopter. When we get there we are shown to a large sitting room, where one long wall is made of glass and looks out to the grounds, the other is lined with large green exotic plants. Magnussen is sitting on the sofa. He takes a drink from his glass as Sherlock stops a couple of paces in front of the sofa while John and I stand a little way behind and on either side of him. Magnussen nods to his men and they turn and leave. Lifting his glass he smirks at over to me.
"Madison. I didn't know you were with the famous Mr. Holmes. Which begins the question why is your wedding ring so small."
I sigh softly, no answering him. Not that I would have anything to say to a man who made it his personal mission to humiliate everyone under his employe every day. He chuckles softly, looking over at Sherlock.
"I would offer you a drink but it's very rare and expensive."
He drinks. Sherlock turns and sits down on the sofa a couple of feet to Magnussen's right. He sighs with a contented sound and slaps his hands down on the white leather either side of him, putting the laptop down between himself and the other man, then crosses his legs and clasps his hands in his lap. He looks across to the other side of the room.
"Oh. It was you."
I turn the direction Sherlock is looking and see projected onto a glass wall opposite us, the footage is playing of Sherlock and Mary's rescue of John from the bonfire.
"Yes, of course. Very hard to find a pressure point on you, Mr. Holmes."
John glances over his shoulder and turns back, then does a double-take, before walking toward the wall. While Magnusson continues.
"The drugs thing I never believed for a moment. Anyway, you wouldn't care if it was exposed, would you? But look how you care about John Watson. Your damsel in distress."
John continues walking closer to the wall, staring at the footage with his mouth open. In slow motion on the footage, Sherlock drags John out from under the bonfire again John turns around and walks closer to Magnussen, his voice tight and furious.
"put me in a fire ... for leverage?"
"Oh, I'd never let you burn, Doctor Watson. (He sits up and puts his glass onto the clear glass table in front of him, then looks up at John again.) I had people standing by. I'm not a murderer ... unlike your wife."
John stares up at him grimly. He holds his gaze for a while, then glances across to Sherlock. Magnussen walks over towards the wall. Reaching the wall, he puts one finger on it at the side of the projected footage. There's a beep and as Magnussen slides his finger across the glass, the footage slides with it and disappears off to the side. John tilts his head at him questioningly. The side of Sherlock's mouth lifts in a small smile.
"Let me explain how leverage works, Doctor Watson. For those who understand these things, Mycroft Holmes is the most powerful man in the country. Well ... apart from me.
Mycroft's pressure point is his junkie detective brother, Sherlock. And Sherlock's pressure point is his best friend, John Watson and his love, Madison Moriarty. Madison Moriarty's pressure point was her criminal brother, but since he is gone I had to focus on John Watson's pressure point which is his wife. I own John Watson's wife … I own Mycroft. He's what I'm getting for Christmas."
Even though the laptop is almost within his reach, he holds out his hand towards Sherlock. Without looking around, Sherlock shoves it across the sofa towards him.
"It's an exchange, not a gift."
He stands up, while Magnussen raises his eyebrows at him. Sherlock walks a few paces forward, then turns around again. Magnussen picks up the laptop.
" Forgive me, but… I already seem to have it."
He holds the laptop to his chest and runs his fingers over the back.
"It's password protected."
Magnussen continues to run his fingers over the machine, as Sherlock continues.
"In return for the password, you will give me any material in your possession pertaining to the woman I know as Mary Watson."
"Oh, she's bad, that one. So many dead people. You should see what I've seen."
John sighs.
"We don't need to see it."
"You might enjoy it, though. I enjoy it."
John swallows but holds his gaze and nods as if not surprised. Sherlock speaks in a very nonchalantly tone.
"Then why don't you show us?"
"Show you Appledore?"
Magnussen puts the laptop onto the sofa beside him, then looks back at Sherlock.
"The secret vaults? Is that what you want?"
I sigh softly, trying not to show my anger and lack of patience as I speak.
"We want everything you've got on Mary."
Magnussen lets out a short breathy laugh, shaking his head a little, then he lowers his eyes, scratches the back of his head and chuckles for a few seconds. John's mouth twists and he shoots a brief glance towards Sherlock. Eventually, Magnussen stops sniggering and looks down to the laptop, patting it and grimacing a little.
"You know, I honestly expected something good."
Sherlock shrugs.
"Oh, I think you'll find the contents of that laptop …"
"include a GPS locator. By now, your brother will have noticed the theft, and security services will be converging on this house. Having arrived … they'll find top secret information in my hands ... and have every justification to search my vaults. They will discover further information of this kind and I'll be imprisoned. You will be exonerated, and restored to your smelly little apartment to solve crimes with Ms. Sociopath and Mr. and Mrs. Psychopath."
Magnusson looks at John, who holds his gaze, though his cheeks move as if he is gritting his teeth a little. Only once Magnussen starts talking again does John cast a quick glance at Sherlock.
"Mycroft has been looking for this opportunity for a long time. He'll be a very, very proud big brother."
"The fact that you know it's going to happen isn't going to stop it."
"Then why am I smiling?"
I have to fit the urge to call Magnusson I snake, as he looks up at Sherlock and smiles a little. Sherlock looks at him thoughtfully.
"Ask me."
John takes one step towards him.
"Why are you smiling?"
"Because Sherlock Holmes has made one enormous mistake which will destroy the lives of everyone he loves ... and everything he holds dear."
He stands slowly.
"Let me show you the Appledore vaults."
He leads us across the room and through the open glass doors of the study. He walks across to the wooden doors at the side of the room and then turns back to the others, putting a hand on the doors.
"The entrance to my vaults. This is where I keep you all."
He turns and takes hold of the door handles, then pulls the doors open. We are looking from inside the doors towards Magnussen and the other two as they look inside. Magnussen steps slowly through the doors, looking all around it. I look over to John how is standing on the other side of Sherlock, to see he is just as unsure about what we are seeing as well. After a moment Magnussen slowly begins to turn around. Inside the doors is nothing more than a small windowless room, painted white and brightly lit. It is no more than a few feet deep and the ceiling is about eight feet high. There are no shelves, no library stacks, no filing cabinets, no grotesque dolls, stuffed animals or sculptures. The only thing in the room is a metal and leather low-backed executive chair. As Magnussen slowly continues to turn around, Sherlock's eyes quickly skim around the whiteness, then his eyes go back to Magnussen. John is the first to make a comment.
"Okay. So where are the vaults, then?"
Magnusson looks to him as he sits down on the chair, then gestures around the room.
"Vaults? What vaults? There are no vaults beneath this building. They're all in here."
John frowns and blinks. Sherlock's eyes are wide as if he is beginning to realize the truth. Magnussen leans forward and slowly raises the fingers of his right hand to touch his temple.
"The Appledore vaults are my Mind Palace. You know about Mind Palaces, don't you, Sherlock? And I imagine you do as well Madison. How to store information so you never forget it – by picturing it. I just sit here, I close my eyes … and down I go to my vaults. I can go anywhere inside my vaults … my memories. I'll look at the files on Mrs. Watson. Mmm, ah."
In the white room, he lifts his right hand as if lifting a folder out of the drawer. He sits back in the chair while he acts as if he is looking at the file.
"This is one of my favorites. Oh, it's so exciting."
Lowering his head in the white room with his eyes still closed, he moves his hands as if he is turning the pages inside the file. Sherlock lowers his head with a shocked look on his face while Magnussen chuckles quietly.
"All those wet jobs for the CIA. Ooh! She's gone a bit ... freelance now. Bad girl."
He turns the imaginary page and sniggers, holding up a finger, then chuckles even more, then turns another imaginary page, still smiling.
"Ah, she is so wicked. I can really see why you like her."
With both hands, he pushes the imaginary drawer closed again, he lifts both hands and turns them over, then opens his eyes and looks at Sherlock.
"See?"
John clears his throat.
"So there are no documents. You don't actually have anything here."
"Oh, sometimes I send out for something … If I really need it … but mostly I just remember it all."
John shakes his head.
"I don't understand."
"You should have that on a T-shirt."
"You just remember it all?"
" It's all about knowledge. Everything is. Knowing is owning."
"But if you just know it, then you don't have proof."
"Proof? What would I need proof for? I'm in news, you moron. I don't have to prove it – I just have to print it."
Sherlock's gaze is lowered and his expression suggests that he is fully aware of how badly he has miscalculated. Magnussen stands up and buttoning his jacket.
"Speaking of news, the three of you will be heavily featured tomorrow – trying to sell state secrets to me."
He tuts disapprovingly, then looks at his watch.
"Let's go outside. They'll be here shortly. Can't wait to see you arrested."
He walks out of the room and heads towards the glass doors. John watches him go, then steps closer to Sherlock and me.
"Sherlock, do we have a plan?"
Sherlock is fixed in place, still looking down towards the floor of the white room, his gaze unfocused. I sigh softly.
"Sherlock?"
Sherlock still doesn't move, John turns and walks away. Sherlock shuts his eyes, screwing them closed with a look of despair. Magnussen walks across the sitting room to a glass door which leads out onto a patio. He goes outside and looks around. The sky is darkening, so apparently, it is early evening. John and I follow him out onto the patio.
"They're taking their time, aren't they?"
John stops behind him, not looking at him. While I stay a few feet away from him.
"I still don't understand."
"And there's the back of the T-shirt."
Sherlock has finally left the study and is walking slowly towards the patio door, stopping next to me. John turns his head to look at Magnussen, as Magnussen turns to face him as Sherlock walks out onto the patio and stops just outside the door.
" You just know things. How does that work? I just love your little soldier face. I'd like to punch it. Bring it over here a minute. Come on."
John stares back at him, his eyes wide. Before looking toward Sherlock and I. Very reluctantly and not meeting his eyes, Sherlock gives John a short nod, his face full of pain at having to do this.
"For Mary. Bring me your face."
John looks back to Magnussen, who nods slightly. Clearing his throat, John slowly takes two steps closer to him. Magnussen turns a little to face him, then leans down to him.
"Lean forward a bit and stick your face out."
John clears his throat again, adjusting his footing. Magnussen smirks at him.
"Please?"
John leans closer, chuckling. John locks his gaze on him while he does as instructed.
"Now, can I flick it?"
John snorts in disbelief, lowering his head and shaking it before raising it again.
"Can I flick your face?"
Pursuing his lips and looking at him again, John leans forward. Magnussen lifts his right hand with the back towards John, bends his middle finger under his thumb, holds his hand close to John's left cheek and then releases the middle finger to flick sharply against his cheek. John blinks instinctively and tilts his head at the man, still holding his gaze. Magnussen flicks his cheek again, then chuckles.
"I just love doing this."
He looks across to Sherlock, whose eyes are lowered, the pain still in his face. I take a deep breath, looking down as well, as Magnussen continues to flick John's face.
"I could do it all day. It works like this, John. I know who Mary hurt and killed. I know where to find people who hate her. I know where they live; I know their phone numbers. All in my Mind Palace – all of it. I could phone them right now and tear your whole life down – and I will ... unless you let me flick your face. This is what I do to people. This is what I do to whole countries … just because I know.
He flicks him three times. Sherlock glares at him with his teeth bared. Magnusson flicks him again, then straightens up. Bending back down to John after a moment.
"Can I do your eye now?"
John turns his head a little, looking away, as Magnussen sighs.
"See if you can keep it open, hmm?"
Almost before John turns back to him, he flicks John's left eyebrow. John's eyes instinctively flinch closed. Magnussen sniggers and flicks his eyebrow again.
"Come on. For Mary. Keep it open."
"Sherlock?"
Sherlock speaks to John quietly, his voice apologetic.
"Let him. I'm sorry. Just ... let him."
John grimaces slightly, as Magnussen continues flicking his eye.
"Come on. Eye open."
With a bemused look on his face, he flicks John's eyebrow again, and again John's eyes flinch closed for a moment before he glares back at the man as he sniggers and flicks him again. He laughs as John breathes harshly.
"It's difficult, isn't it? Madison managed it once, and she makes the funniest noises, didn't you?"
He looks towards Sherlock. Who has a more stern look on his face now as he hears that Magnussen had done the same to me. The sound of an approaching helicopter can be heard. It soars over the roof and at the same time, armed police marksmen run towards the patio. The helicopter drops down to hover some yards away, its spotlight aimed towards the men on the patio. As they are buffeted by the wind from the rotors, Mycroft's voice blares out over a speaker on the helicopter.
"Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Madison Love. Stand away from that man."
Sherlock looks away. Magnussen looks over towards him.
"Here we go, Mr. Holmes!"
Sherlock speaks loudly over the noise of the hovering helicopter, stepping forward and walking to John's side.
"To clarify: Appledore's vaults only exist in your mind, nowhere else, just there.:
"They're not real. They have never been."
Mycroft gives the order to stand away from Magnussen again as I step back toward the door. Magnussen walks forward a couple of steps, waving his hands calmly at the helicopter.
"It's fine! They're harmless!"
The armed police continue moving into position, aiming their rifles towards the patio. John looks over at Sherlock.
"What do we do?
Magnussen looks over this shoulder.
"Nothing! There's nothing to be done! Oh, I'm not a villain. I have no evil plan. I'm a businessman, acquiring assets. You happen to be one of them! Sorry. No chance for you to be a hero this time, Mr. Holmes.
While John and I continue to stare towards the helicopter, Sherlock turns his head and looks at us and his gaze is penetrating and intense. Sherlock looks away, lowering his gaze but still with a determined look on it. Magnussen turns away from him. Mycroft gives his order yet again. As Sherlock steps toward.
"Oh, do your research. I'm not a hero ... I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Merry Christmas!
He steps closer to John, reaches round behind him and into John's coat pocket, then steps away again and walks forward towards Magnussen. He widens his eyes and glares at the man. He raises John's pistol, aims it at Magnussen's head and fires. As John recoils and even before Magnussen hits the ground, Sherlock drops the gun to the patio and turns towards the helicopter, raising his hands.
"Get away from me, John, Madison! Stay well back!"
John and I shout.
"Christ, Sherlock!"
As we raise our hands as well. Mycroft shouting over the loudspeaker.
"Stand Fire! Do not Fire on Sherlock Holmes! DO NOT FIRE!"
I sigh softly, trying to calm down as much as I can.
"Oh, Christ Sherlock."
Keeping his hands raised, Sherlock looks around to us again. Looking to John then to me.
"Give my love to Mary. I love you."
John and I stare at him, in anguish.
He takes one final look at us and then turns towards the marksmen and the helicopter and begins to sink slowly to his knees. John holds his own hands high, his eyes full of despair. Sherlock kneels on the patio, his hands raised and his face anguished. The beams from the laser sights travel over his face as he stares ahead of himself, knowing that he has done something from which no-one can save him.
