The Reichenbach Fall

A Silent Interview

Pulling up outside her flat, Rose gave the cabbie her fare and jumped out just in time to see John thrown against one of the several police cars in the street, red and blue lights illuminating the wince on his face as Sherlock looked to him with a raised eyebrow, muttering something to him too low for the young woman to hear.

"Lestrade!" She shouted, jogging over to him as she took in the scene in front of her. "What the hell is happening here?"

Seeing their flat mate pull up to the scene, Sherlock turned to his friend who had just been thrown next to him, the pair of them now cuffed together. "Joining me?"

John caught his breath as he looked around him, seeing Rose looking furious as she went to talk to Lestrade. "Well, apparently it's against the law to chin the Chief Superintendent."

Sherlock just huffed a laugh at the usually reasonable doctor's actions. "Bit awkward this..." He muttered, his mind wiring as he formulated a plan.

"Yeah," John agreed sheepishly. "Rose looks pissed."

Sherlock just grinned at him. "I was thinking more about our imminent and daring escape." He clarified in a low voice, so as to not be overheard.

Having been ushered to the side – somewhat away from the nosy officers – Rose was trying to keep up with Lestrade's explanations but found herself momentarily distracted as her boss looked over, catching her eye as he gave her a confident – if brief – grin, winking at her to give her the heads up that he was up to something. "Oh, shit..."

"What?" Lestrade asked, seeing that she had noticed something, but chaos broke out around them before she could answer.

Suddenly a high-pitched screech pierced the night, the officers with ear pieces all flinching, cringing and clawing at their ears to remove the little devises. Having had the slightest warning, Rose was a barely more prepared for the commotion, but it was all she'd needed to see Sherlock move, first for the earpiece in the back of the car, then for the gun strapped to the officer who had just wandered over to them the commotion enough of a distraction for Sherlock to swipe the weapon.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Sherlock called loudly, bringing everyone's attention to him as he aimed the gun at them. "Will you all please get on your knees?" However, seeing that they weren't really taking him seriously – teach me to be polite – he fired two warning shots into the air as he dragged John back away from the scene, aiming at them all once more. "Now would be good!"

"Do as he says, for god's sake!" Rose shouted to them all, first to put her hands up and get on the floor. "He has a hostage!"

Of course, she knew that Sherlock wouldn't hurt them - or John - but if he wanted to escape, then she was certainly going to do what she could to help and the idea of a hostage would definitely make the police more cooperative, the crowd listening to her for once as they joined her on the street, Lestrade muttering expletives to himself at the turn of events.

"Hostage, good," John muttered to the madman he was cuffed to as he turned the gun on him. "Yes, that works."

"Should have kidnapped her..." Sherlock muttered, trying to think as to what to do now.

"I take offence to that!" John responded just as low as he looked at the officers now on the floor. "What do we do Sherlock?"

"We're doing what Moriarty wants." Sherlock told him, the pair still backing away from the officers. "Becoming a fugitive... run!" And with that, he turned and dragged John off into the dark streets of London, hoping they could resolve the madness sooner rather than later, dreading the fallout if they couldn't.

As the pair ran off into the night, Rose sighed, throwing a glare at the pompous man – obviously in charge, by the looks of things – shouted at the friend that remained. "Get after him, Lestrade!"

The DI himself only spared the young woman a quick glace – as much of an apology that he could give in that moment – before turning away to shout orders to specific officers, the uniformed individuals giving chase to the men who had just escaped. "You heard him, get after them! They're cuffed together and on foot – they can't get far!"

The young woman he'd stepped away from for a moment resisted the instinct to roll her eyes at his words. Of course, they could, it's Sherlock Holmes and John Watson for Christ's sake, she thought, but she still knew that Lestrade had to play his part.

Seeing him turn back to her, Rose tried to remember that he was on their side, but was finding it a little difficult not to be at least a little frustrated with him.

"Listen-" he started, however was soon cut off.

"No - you listen!" She implored in a hushed voice, not to be over heard. "This is wrong and you know it, Greg."

Giving her a warning look, his features were somehow hard and soft at the same time; the stress of the evening and his position in the whole affair starting to get to him. "He's not helping himself by running..."

"He's running because you're chasing him, you know that." She implored. "Stop, and so will he."

Mouth in a firm line, she saw the regret in his eyes. "You know I can't do that."

"Then..." Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair, looking around them at the few officers that remained, including the big boss who was starting to notice her. She needed to do something – anything – to help her friends, but if they clocked on to it, she'd be in just as much trouble. What does he need, she thought, coming up with a quick answer. "Then, would you like to escort me inside and interview me on everything I know about him? I'm his assistant, I can tell you a lot about how he thinks, maybe give an insight into what he'd do next..." Seeing his hesitation, she gave him a ghost of smile. "I'll put the kettle on?"

Frowning at her, Lestrade knew exactly what she was up to, however having worked with them all for so long, he also knew that Sherlock was innocent. He had to be, he thought. Even still, if his boss asked what he was doing, interviewing one of the suspect's closest friends would be considered a very practical use of him time, knowing that his officers wouldn't catch up to the men they were chasing. "Yeah, go on then, everything you know – and definitely a cuppa."

"Come on then," She nodded, looking a little more distraught – though he wasn't totally sure if it was an act or not. "You'd better walk me in."

Nodding slightly, he put a hand on her back as he guided her into the flat, face serious as he caught the eye of the Chief Superintendent and gave him a subtle nod. Rose, of course, caught the action but just looked even more worried, pretending not to notice as she played her part of the innocent and duped assistant now taken for questioning.

A few moments later, they were both inside – Lestrade having dismissed the officers in the flat – the two of them letting out a breath when the door shut once more, leaving them alone.

Despite the facade of worry mostly leaving her in that moment, Lestrade still felt like a crappy friend. "Rose, listen-"

"It's okay, Greg," She told him, comforting smile in place as she predicted what he was going to say. "I really do understand, and I hope you know we wouldn't want to do anything that gets you into trouble – let alone this mess."

"Thanks, Rose." He smiled, though still felt guilty that this had happened, her kindness only reaffirming that they were in fact good people doing good things in the world.

Hearing the kettle click off, she gave him another smile and went to make them both a cuppa, deciding to forgo the disaster of a kitchen table and sit in the living room instead. "So," She started as she handed him a coffee. "I take one afternoon off and all hell breaks loose... What happened?"

"I thought I was interviewing you...?" Lestrade asked with a raised eyebrow, somewhat amused.

"You are!" She assured with a smirk. "But if I'm going to be able to tell you what you need, I need to know what's going on first."

Glaring lightly at the logic she'd used – knowing she was turning the tables on him – Lestrade thought back on the day and sighed heavily. "It's a surprisingly long story."

"We have time," She told him, matching his sigh.

And so he nodded, starting to tell her all about the case of two missing children of an US Ambassador, the father himself requesting that the Reichenbach Hero look into the matter personally.

He told her how Sherlock had deduced how the children had been taken as the boarding school had broken up and how the young boy had left them a hidden message in linseed oil, leading the genius to find a footprint that had been left by the kidnapper.

She nodded as she followed along, sipping her tea as she listened to the tale, understanding how the footprint captured in the oil would provide particles to trace back where the kidnapper had been and where he'd likely have hidden the children.

As he told her about finding them in an abandoned chocolate factory, the children having eaten chocolates that they'd found, but the wrappers having been coated in mercury.

"Jesus!" She muttered to herself, horrified that someone could do such a thing. "So the hungrier they got-"

"The more they ate, the more poison they took." Lestrade confirmed, nodding as he remembered the same deduction earlier in the day. "Thank god we got to them when we did."

Frowning at him, Rose saw she was missing something. "Sherlock's saved plenty of people, from plenty of strange and unusual circumstances – he's never been accused like this before, let alone arrested for it. What else happened?"

"Yeah, this one's different." Lestrade confirmed, glad that Sherlock wasn't the only one who could join the dots in the insane way he did. "When we went to interview the girl, Sherlock was surprisingly gentle but... as soon as she saw him, she because hysterical..."

"That's..." She frowned. "That's not right."

Lestrade sighed once again, finding he was doing so a lot that night. "I told him not to let it get to him, we all feel like screaming when he walks into a room but-"

"But that's not right." Rose said, confusion colouring her features. "Yes, he's an egotistical sod, capable of being a perfectly cold bastard but, not like that."

"What do you mean?" Lestrade asked, joining her in a frown. Sherlock was almost inhuman in his experience – a sociopath by his own admission – and it was only after working with him for many years had the DI even seen a slightly more human side to the man.

Rose had seen far more than that though. "Sherlock - as much of a git as he can be – does care. He knows when to not be... whatever he is." Struggling to find the words, she took a breath as she tried to explain her friend. "He does care and I know – for a fact – he hates the one's with kids."

Lestrade started to see what she meant. "We all do."

"Well, so does he." She defended firmly before her instinctual defence of her friend reigned in a little and she saw what had happened. "But... not everyone sees that side to him. And of course, with the reputation of being such a psychopathic freak doing it's usual run around the office, it's not hard to see where this is going."

Nodding, he saw her start to piece the rest together. "Something about Sherlock had reminded her of the kidnapper, and she didn't say another word after that."

"And the doubt started to creep in..." She muttered, the bigger picture starting to fall into place. "People start to question if he was behind it in the first place, just to prove how smart he is for solving it, then everything else is called into question... his whole reputation, everything he's built is torn down."

"Meanwhile, we're just playing right into his hands, without a choice but to follow the leads." Lestrade said bitterly.

Rose just shook her head at him. "Your hands are tied, Greg, there's nothing you could have done."

He just gave a bitter huff. "Doesn't make it any easier though, does it?"

"No, it doesn't." She agreed, still thinking as she frowned at a new thought. "But that can't be all of it – hearsay and gossip isn't enough, or I could just as well start a rumour that you're really Georgina in disguise, thinking that being Greg is the only to make your way in a man's world. It doesn't mean it will stick or that people will even entertain it."

"Aside from the fact that I am most certainly a bloke, I get what you're saying." Lestrade said, thinking it was an unusual example, a stray thought crossing his mind to never irritate her too much. If anyone could pull that off and get it circulating, it would be Rose Spencer, he thought grimly before getting back to the matter at hand. "I mean he has been pissing a lot of people off for a long time, but this is a bit much."

Pushing herself out of the chair – mug now empty – she started to pace, reminding the older DI of her mentor once more. "That's not enough! If he pisses people off, they're going to snap, yes – but they're more likely to punch him than arrest him for kidnapping a couple of kids!"

"Okay..." Lestrade said, remembering that while this wasn't the madman himself, it was his assistant in full deductive reasoning mode and so he tried to take the initiative. "Okay, in the example you gave then, if you wanted to convince people I was secretly a woman, how would you do it?"

Catching onto the train of thought, she ran with it, thinking aloud as she paced. "Couple of questions, something to sow the seeds of doubt, get people questioning it themselves without thinking that the idea had even been planted – maybe you'd always just been a sensitive person or watched questionable TV, but... to really drive it home? I'd need more, I'd need-" She stopped, looking up to him with wide eyes.

"What?" He questioned, "What do you need?"

"Proof!" She said obviously. "But if I can't get it – because it's a lie – then I'd have to fabricate some, make it up, but... how do you make it even palatable, let alone believable?"

Thinking that it was certainly an obvious answer he should have seen a mile off, Lestrade frowned once more. "Okay... what about this? I watched Connie Prince when she was on telly, I cry at soppy films and actually much prefer a glass of wine over a whiskey."

"Yes, yes!" She said, rounding on him. "Exactly! One big lie but – if presented right, in the right light – with a few colourful tid-bits that actually don't mean anything, it could be bought."

He nodded, the pieces also seeming to fall into place. "So... where would Moriarty get that sort of information?"

At this she deflated, losing all her energy. "No idea... even I don't know the actual facts of his life that well, I just know him as a person, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Lestrade nodded, watching as the young woman flopped back into her chair. "Another cuppa then?"

Nodding at him, Rose lost herself to her thoughts for a moment, trying to find the missing part of the puzzle. Lestrade saw the familiar look and left her to think for a moment, rinsing out their cups and making them a fresh drink as she thought everything over once more.

Placing a fresh cup of tea in front of the troubled young woman, he looked at her and smiled in pride at what he saw. Despite everything she had been through – and he knew he was only ever told the official version – she still stood by the crazy man she called a boss, friend and flatmate.

"You really are an incredible woman, you know Rose?" He told her.

Looking up in surprise – concentration broken - she felt a blush creep over her face at the compliment. "I'm really not, you know."

"No, you really are." He confirmed, smiling at her bashfulness. "You and John, the pair of you are definitely the best friends that loony could ask for."

She just laughed at his kindness. "John maybe, but I don't know about me. I just make tea and try and keep him out of too much trouble."

"You don't give yourself enough credit." Lestrade grinned. "I'm pretty sure he's - dare I say – becoming a little more human since moving in with you two; just a bit, but enough that it's noticeable, you know?"

"We do try!" She grinned, remembering their occasional lessons in social norms and acceptable behaviours all too fondly. "I think he even tried to do a genuinely nice thing for me a little while back, without any sort of ulterior motive."

Lestrade just looked gobsmacked. "Are you sure? No ulterior motive, no nudge or logic or reasoning behind it at all?"

"Nothing to prompt him, no." She chuckled, thinking back. "I mean, he's done nice things before; giving me a spare magnifying glass, training me, checking on me after we've been blown up or kidnapped, or whatever but... no, this wasn't like that."

Lestrade blinked a little and the casual way she'd described the insanity of her life, but seeing she was a little happier and relaxed, he thought he'd ask further. "So, what did he do?"

"We'd decided to lay low for a bit after the media storm a couple of months ago," Seeing his look though, she quickly cut in before he could interrupt. "I know, I know, we don't do laying low well, but, that's not the point. Anyway, while we waited for it all to blow over for a few days, we decided to have a bit of a break. So, he brought me a box a locks to work with over the few days while he did whatever he does."

Obviously missing something judging by the look on her features, Lestrade was very confused. "I'm sorry, a box of locks?"

"Yeah," She laughed. "To anyone else, it would have seemed the weirdest thing, but... I think he didn't want me to be bored."

Eyes widening, the DI gave a small smile at the strange act of kindness before the reality of her story dawned on him, smile dropping again. "Wait, a box of locks? As in to pick?" Getting a sheepish smile and a nod, he closed his eyes and dropped his head. "So, a pair of handcuffs won't be any problem for him..."

Chuckling once more, Rose patted his arm. "No problem at all, I'm afraid, Greg – even I could get out a pair of handcuffs."

Frowning briefly wondering how Sherlock had trained the young woman to get out of a pair of cuffs – and coming up with some strange and disturbing scenarios – the tired DI just drank his tea, thankfully distracted by a loud beep that rang out in the room, their eyes meeting once again, though this time apprehension in them for what could possibly come next.

Taking out her phone from her pocket – making sure to hide the screen from her visitor – Rose was relieved at what the message said, but as another piece of the puzzle fell into place, it was all she could do to keep her composure at that moment, praying she was wrong.

Hostage released

Going to see Mycroft

I don't think he's been honest about everything

As she read the message Lestrade considered once more how lucky Sherlock and John were to have a friend like Rose Spencer in their lives. Unwavering loyalty, intelligent enough to keep the both of them on their toes and yet she always seemed to be a calm middle ground between the cold hard logic of the genius and the fiery heart that was the doctor.

Looking at her now though, Lestrade wondered if he really knew the young woman even half as well as he thought he did.

The look in her eye at whatever she'd just read had him wondering if she was really the calm rational one of the three friends; it had only flickered for a second, but he was sure he'd seen pure fury pass across her features.

As soon as it was there, it was gone though, and she looked back to him with a familiar smirk – calm and collected as ever. "I'm sorry Lestrade, looks like I've got to run," she told him as she replied to John.

With Lestrade

I'll meet you when I can

RS

"Is that him?" He asked as he wondered if she'd even tell him.

Knowing his thoughts, she pocketed her phone and made to stand up. "No, afraid not." She told him.

Lestrade let out a defeated sigh. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Because you hold most of the brain cells in Scotland Yard...?" She joked, smirk only growing with her teasing.

He wasn't offended, but was rather tired; it had been a long day. "Rose..."

"What?" She asked, tone and face as innocent as she could make it.

Lestrade didn't buy it for a second. "Do I even want to know?"

"No, probably not," She admitted, pulling her coat on. "It's been good to catch up though, we should do this more often – without the drama though."

He gave a tired laugh before catching her eye once more. "You'll call me if you see him?"

"Of course," She said easily, "Soon as I hear from him, I'll let you know."

With that, she took her leave, and Greg Lestrade let out a heavy sigh once more. He knew she was lying through her teeth – he expected it – but he didn't expect it to be so easy, or so convincing.