James Moriarty stood by the railings overlooking a small provincial park, the melting snow picked out in the darkening afternoon light. He watched the retreating school children, and in return got a suspicious look from some mothers who had spotted the dark man in a suit, he wasn't trying to hide, what was the point he was waiting after all, and for once was doing nothing wrong.
"James!" she called making him turn, nobody makes him turn he thought stupidly as he did. She was waving and smiling, and looked nothing like the last time he'd seen her oddly.
"You called" he smiled "I'm here"
She waved her Waitrose bag for life at him, "sorry I'm late, I did some splurging."
He looked at her oddly, and then smiled "you stole a credit card?"
"I stole the whole goddamn you id" she smiled "and their car."
"Oh you are...wicked" he laughed
"That's why you like me"
"And what about your husband?" he asked
"He's on a case, nothing to do with me, so I assume it's one of your minions?" she told him "But I'd rather not talk about Sherlock, if it's all the same to you."
"Oh, has he done something wrong, is there trouble in paradise?"
"I'm pregnant"
That floored him for a moment, he had little understanding of human emotions, except how to manipulate them. So he was confused by her statement, and looked for some clarification.
"Is he not pleased? You obviously rut like animals surely he knew it was a possibility?"
"I don't know I don't care" she told him "I'm miserable, I don't which of them knocked me up, and I'm not happy at spending another year feeling sick and miserable and unable to do what I want."
"My heart bleeds " he sneered "poor little rich girl, unable to play cops and robbers..."
He was stopped by the prick of a knife at his side, "shut the fuck up Jimmy, I might be playing this little game with you, I might have taken an interest in your piddling problems, but I call the shots, and I don't take kindly to being mocked, understand?"
"Yes Ma'am" he said quietly, breathing out as the knife was withdrawn.
"So have you found my Father?" she said, smiled plastered back on her face.
"Yes and no" he shrugged "He's not in the country, apparently he and his female friend have gone to Vegas."
"Vegas?"
"Apparently" he shrugged "They went yesterday morning, 3am flight from Filton, Bristol"
"Private jet?"
"Yep" he shrugged and handed her a folder with pictures and a flight plan "So Lady Devlin, what have you got for me?"