Chapter Seven
The call came sooner than John expected, he was in a cab with Sherlock on their way back to Baker Street. Sherlock fished inside his coat pocket and pulled out his pink phone. He punched the recieve button. "Evening." Sasaki's voice vocalized evenly. "Well, it's more 'night' isn't it, Sherlock?" John squeezed his eyes shut in despair.
"Where are you?" Sherlock asked into the phone.
"I can't say." Sasaki replied slowly. "It wouldn't be fun otherwise."
"You're there, arn't you, Moriarty?" Sherlock hissed.
"Of course." Sasaki responded. "I'm staring Sasaki Ayumu in the face."
There was a brief silence before Sasaki continued talking. "There are new rules, Sherlock... for this old game." Sasaki stated. "There are no hints. No puzzles. Just a time limit."
John and Sherlock exchanged dubious glances. It was always a game for Moriarty. "Sasaki..." Sasaki's voice broke slightly, but she cleared her throat and continued valiantly. "Sasaki will begin to die in half-an-hour. You don't have long, Sherlock. Find her. That's all this game is about." And the line was cut.
Sherlock immediately jumped up from his seat as the cab rolled to a halt outside their apartment, dialing Mycroft. The phone rang twice before being picked up. "Sherlock." Came Mycroft's usually cordial tone.
"Mycroft, I don't have much time. I'm sending you a voice recording of a phonecall. I need you to enhance all background noises and tell me everything you can about where this call came from." Mycroft seemed to notice the slight desperation in Sherlock's voice and only responded with a calm 'you owe me, Sherlock'.
Sherlock replied the affirmative and hung up.
"There was a train in the background noise, as well as an echo. According to Mycroft's calculations, the room is vaguely ten feet squared. There were sounds of cars outside the building, so the room has a window near an occupied street." John and Lestrade listened to Sherlock ramble as the detective paced the sitting room. "There must be a building nearby, but not too close to where Sasaki is, Moriarty would want to watch how his game ends."
"And then, there is his favorite team of snipers." John chimed in.
"A cluster of buildings close by train tracks and streets?" Lestrade frowned. "That could well be anywhere in London!"
Mrs. Hudson bustled in with a tray of tea and scones for the men. "How is the case coming along? Have you found Sasaki yet?" she asked, clearly stressed.
"No, Mrs. Hudson, but we will." John replied, taking the tray from the trembling woman's hands.
"Oh, I knew I shouldn't have left the girl alone!" Mrs. Hudson moaned, wringing her hands. "A little girl like her can't fight off two men on her own!" Sherlock's head jumped up.
"What did you say?" he asked. "Two men kidnapped her?"
"One of them would probably be Gregory Whitefield, we have him down at Scotland Yard now." Lestrade informed them.
"The other couldn't be Colt, we approached him at Bart's when she was kidnapped." John piped up.
"Lestrade, you find who that other man was!" Sherlock told the DI. Lestrade nodded and left swiftly. "Mrs. Hudson, could you tell me what the two men were like?" He turned to his landlady and guided her to a chair.
"Well, they were wearing black clothes and balaclavas... there was also a woman among them." Mrs. Hudson trailed off unsurely. "But they spoke a little."
Sherlock jumped at the new information. "What did they say?"
"The woman said 'careful! Don't break her neck!' and another said 'You're right, death would be too easy for scum like her'." Mrs. Hudson dropped her face in her hands, sobbing.
"Two men and one woman. I could only suppose the woman was Katheryn Whitefield." Sherlock mused as John placed a comforting hand on Mrs. Hudson's knee.
"And if one of the two men were Gregory... who was the other?" John wondered aloud.
"I think I've got somebody!" Lestrade called over the phone ten minutes later. "Harry Whitefield had a... good friend in the same football team as him. Harry was the best athlete on the team and would cripple them greatly if he left. The friend, Rodger Finnigan, was also rumored to be... more than a friend." John and Sherlock exchanged glances.
"If he can't have him, nobody can." John groaned when he understood the reason behind Rodger's hate for deserters.
"Doubled with the betrayal of his football team, Rodger must have alot of rage. He was probably the violent one who was strangling Sasaki in the flat." Sherlock hissed. "Where does he live?"
Sherlock and John could tell Lestrade was smiling grimly on the other end. "Where do you think? In an apartment surrounded by a cluster of buildings and a train track. I'm sending you the address now."