John stumbled back to Baker Street, his head twisting around at odd angles to try and look at every shadow and black space in the street.
He was at the front door when a police car – flashing lights and all – pulled up in front of the building.
The back door opened.
"Get in," DI Lestrade ordered.
Doctor Watson did as he was told, pulling the door closed behind him.
"You say he was kidnapped? Sherlock Holmes?" Lestrade asked, a chuckle edging his voice.
"Do you think it's funny? The police's best ally, taken by a coven known to kill?"
"No, no it's not. Sorry," Lestrade nodded, coughing a little.
"He has his phone on him. Can we track it down?"
"Like in 'A Study in Pink'?"
"Yes, yes, like that." John pulled his own phone from his pocket, scrolling through the contacts to find Sherlock's number. He pressed the green button and pressed his phone to his ear.
"The number you have called is not connected, please check the number and-"
"Damn it!" he growled.
"We'll try when we get to Scotland Yard."
xsherlockx
Sally Donovan tried to hide her snigger as John came through the door. She straightened her face when the two men glanced over at her.
"I heard Freak got kidnapped," she stated loudly, her face spreading into a grin again. John chose to ignore the comment, and followed the inspector.
Lestrade led him down the hallway, Donovan at their heels.
"We'll have Ted put the number through his system and pinpoint where the phone is," Lestrade told them.
He turned and led them down another corridor, toward a set of double doors. Pushing through, the three of them were faced with a room full of wires and screens.
"Ted! I have a number for you," the inspector called out.
A skinny man in glasses appeared from under a desk.
"Oh?"
"Doctor Watson needs help tracking down his friend's phone," he told him.
Ted nodded, glancing to John
"John Watson, meet Ted Tyler," Lestrade gestured from one to the other.
"What are the digits?" Ted asked extending his hand to take the phone in the doctor's palm.
John quickly pulled Sherlock's number up on the screen and handed it to the man. Ted grabbed it from him and dashed around the desk to a computer. He punched the figures into the keyboard, and the four of them waited in impatient silence.
"I have a signal," Ted spoke up.
"Where is the phone?" Lestrade enquired.
"Saint Mary's College... do you know where-?"
"Donovan, call a car around. Tell anyone still at the school that if they see any sort of vehicle pull up or enter the grounds, they're to search it. Let's go, John."
xsherlockx
Car lights splayed blind shadows on the wall of the room, before the car turned and the space sank back into blackness.
Madeleine sat behind a bookshelf on the hard wood floor, her back leaning against the wall. A black paperback sat open in her lap, her index finger keeping it open, though she hardly paid any attention to the words.
"What are you reading?" Sherlock asked from the other side of the bookshelf.
Madeleine flipped to the front cover.
"Something about a mockingbird," she replied, turning back to her page.
"Interesting?"
"No."
"You could always help me," Sherlock muttered, moving along the isle.
"Doubtful, as I don't know what you're doing," was the reply.
"I'm trying to find a book, obviously. Why would anyone come to a bookshop for any other purpose, Madeleine?"
"Who was my mother?"
"What?"
"You heard me," she said, placing the book down at her side.
Sherlock's face appeared at the end of the bookshelf, a frown creasing his face. It took him two steps to tower over her seated form.
"Why do you want to know?" he growled.
"Isn't it fair that I know who I spent the first nine months of my existence with?" she bit back.
"It really isn't important."
"I don't think it's for you to decide."
"Why do you choose now to ask? Why not when you were six?"
"It's a little hard to write a letter when you're six and without a teacher."
"I was writing when I was two."
"Well, aren't you just a wonder boy."
She looked away.
Flashing lights from outside spun through the shutters, brightening the room in quick bursts before revolving away.
"I don't know," Sherlock said finally.
Madeleine looked back to him.
"Don't know?" she pushed herself up.
"Of course not. You were taken to Mycroft. The first time I ever saw you, you were two months old. I was handed a birth certificate with no information, apart from my own. My brother did an excellent job of covering everything up."
"And that was it?"
"You were sent away to Oxford, and I didn't have to deal with you. Yes." he stalked back around the bookshelf, Madeleine following in his tracks.
"You never bothered to find out about her?" Madeleine asked incredulously.
"Why should I? Clearly she didn't want to be found." Sherlock tossed over his shoulder.
"How do I know I'm even related to you?" she hissed.
Sherlock rounded back on her.
"Because you're very very clever, and only very clever people are related to me," he returned to searching through the books.
"Should I take that as a compliment?"
"If you want to, it doesn't really matter," he said dully.
There was a silence between the two.
"Are you, perhaps, looking for this?" she asked, pulling a thick hardback from the shelf. His eyes flickered to look at the volume, followed by his hand reaching out to snatch it from hers.
"Good to know that you understand when to drop a subject," Sherlock said, opening up the book to its contents page.
"Oh, I am so not done with the subject," she wheeled about and strode off back around the bookshelf.
"How did you know I was looking for this? I thought you didn't realise what I was doing?"
"I'm very very clever."
"'The Complete Book of Witchcraft', how extremely dull," he droned.
"I predict you wanted it because of the pentagrams on the girls' bodies? Am I correct?"
"Indeed you are, Madeleine. And by judging by the amount of mistakes the culprits have made, they'd be relatively new to being 'witches', and they could possibly be schoolgirls."
"You believe a bunch of schoolgirls have been killing members of their own coven?"
Sherlock raised and tilted his head, looking at Madeleine through the gaps between the books.
"I never said they were murdering their own. But now that you bring it up, it does appear to make sense."
Madeleine stiffened, but did not reply.
"But why would they be killing off their own members? Aren't witch-covens supposed to be like sisterhoods?" Sherlock went back to the book, flipping through the pages as he scanned them.
"The school library has that book," Madeleine remarked.
"I thought as much. I don't believe it is worth 52 pounds, though."
I am on FIRE!
I spent most of last night watching the Sherlock episodes in rapid succession... I feel that Sherlock is more... Sherlock-y now.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It is my favourite one so far, simply because of the Madeleine and Sherlock scene.
Remember to Review, as I do appreciate the reviews.
Also, if you have anything you'd like to see in this story (providing is isn't too far up the wall) then I'll try and put it in. Or perhaps if you don't get something then feel free to message me, because I like messages as well.
Thank you.