Chapter Six: Ransom
A/N: Sorry it's been a while! We actually started writing this chapter on Saturday but we went to the cinema in the evening with friends so we couldn't finish it until today. If anyone's interested we saw 21 Jump Street, which was hilarious, and you should all go and see it! Anyway, here it is at last!
Disclaimer: Still not ours!
"Well, why don't we go and have a little chat in the prep room back there," Moriarty suggested.
"Here's fine," Sherlock announced.
"I think it would be more professional if we stepped outside, and let the kids get on with their experiment, if you know what I mean," Moriarty argued.
"Why don't you want to discuss this in front of Leah? Don't you want her to realise she's being used?"
"Don't listen to her sweetie," Moriarty said, smiling at Leah.
"You're used to doing what he says, aren't you Leah?" Sherlock asked. "But you know he doesn't really love you."
Leah tried and failed to stifle a gasp in response to his bluntness, prompting Lestrade to cut it in and reason: "Come on, I think it would be best for all parties involved if perhaps we did have this discussion away from the students."
"Exactly!" Moriarty exclaimed in eager agreement, and promptly began to lead the men into the prep room. As they walked towards it, Sherlock suddenly turned to John and asked: "Where do you think you're going?"
"With you, obviously," John replied.
"No, you are needed in here," Sherlock stated.
"What the hell for?" John asked incredulously.
"To help keep the class under control, of course," Sherlock explained, before closing the door in John's bewildered face.
"Give us a minute would you, Karen," Moriarty said to the bushy-haired technician who was tidying up lab equipment in the prep room.
"Ummm, ok, yeah, sure," the technician replied, quickly heading for the exit upon instruction, and dropping a conical flask as she did.
She bent down to begin picking up the shards of glass, but Moriarty intervened and told her: "Don't worry about that, I can deal with it; you go on out."
"No, no it's fine, I made the mess, I can clear it up," she argued, impaling a shard of glass in her hand as she went about doing so, only adding to the mess as she bled all over the floor.
"Really Karen, it's fine, just go," Moriarty told her, quickly growing impatient.
"Well, if you're sure," the technician started.
"Of course he's sure; he's told you to go three times, so just leave will you so that we can get on here," Sherlock ordered sharply.
The technician obeyed submissively; bowing her head and quickly shuffling out of the room as Lestrade called out apologies after her.
"Excuse me, Sir," John looked up in surprise at the student who had approached him. "I was just wondering when the copper sulphate solution reacts with the ammonia, how many of the ammonia ligands substitute the water ligands, is it four or six?" said a short, bespectacled, dark haired boy who looked too young to be in the Sixth Form, in John's opinion.
John merely stared at him blankly, failing to recall anything about ligands from his school days, or even his university days for that matter, and said, "What?"
The student began to repeat his question, before John interjected, "I heard you the first time, but I have no idea I'm afraid. I'm not the teacher you see, I'm just here on an investigation. Why don't you ask the technician over there?"
"On an investigation. Oh really, that sounds interesting!"
"Yes," John replied quickly as his phone began to ring, "excuse me, I've got to take this."
"Umm, Ok then," the boy said and he proceeded to ask Karen the question instead.
"Well, you need to add 1cm3 of copper sulphate and then go to the fume cupboard and add the ammonia drop-wise until there is a colour change," Karen replied.
"No, I know how to do it, I've done it."
"Was there a colour change from pale blue to deep blue?"
"Yes, I just wanted to know why," the student explained, growing impatient with her.
"Well, it's because of ligands substitution."
"Yes I am aware of that! But as I asked I just wanted to know how many of the ligands are substituted," the boy clarified, exasperated with the technician by this point.
John walked away from what was becoming an increasingly heated discussion, in an attempt to hear what Molly was trying to tell him down the phone, "Sorry about that Molly, what were you saying?"
"Oh I just wanted to ask how your foot is, and make sure that Sherlock's not taking you on a wild goose chase round London, because you need to rest it you know," Molly mothered.
"Well, I've just been running around like a lunatic after Lestrade and Sherlock in a school, but other than that I've been really relaxed! I'm able to walk now, still with a bit of a limp though mind you."
"What are you doing in a school?"
"Oh it's a long story," John dismissed.
"Well maybe you could explain it to me later. I thought I could come over and redress your foot," Molly offered.
"Oh," John said in surprise at Molly's uncharacteristic forwardness. "Alright then."
"Oh…ummm…only if that's alright with you. I didn't mean to invite myself along…I just thought you might need me to see to it." Molly stuttered as she realised how it must have sounded; she chided herself for allowing her desperation to see Sherlock to come through. She must remember to control that in future, she reminded herself mentally.
"Oh no it's fine; you could stay for dinner if you want?" John suggested.
"No, no it's fine. I wouldn't want to outstay my welcome. I know Sherlock's busy with his…experiments in the evenings."
"Don't worry about him, I'm allowed guests as well," John said in jest.
Molly laughed nervously, "Ok then, I'll come straight from work. So I should be there for about 7."
"Yeah, ok, that's fine. Sorry Molly, I've got to hang up now as I'd better go and save the technician from these children," John explained.
"Technician? What technician?" Molly asked, before realising that John had already ended the call.
John walked over to assist the flustered looking woman, who was being encircled by a group of students holding various items of lab equipment in a threatening manner, although he was unsure how to help the situation as it had been well over twenty years since he had studied chemistry at school.
"Right, now where were we?" Moriarty asked Sherlock.
"Well, you were about to tell me why you went to the trouble of finding a clever young female in the form of a Miss Leah Conrad to send threats to my brother."
"Ah, that," Moriarty said, nodding over-enthusiastically; feigning sudden realisation. "Well, I needed you two to meet somehow, and I thought what better way to do that than to obtain a shitload of phantom CO2 and harbour it in my imaginary underground lair, ready to release upon the unsuspecting British public. Of course the aim was never for you to believe the threat, which I knew you wouldn't. But it fulfilled its purpose in being a nice little appetiser to get your attention."
"So, you sent the threat to Mycroft to panic him, and you knew he would tell Sherlock, but keep it quiet from the official powers that be," Lestrade summarised, mainly for his own benefit. "Well what about Stamford then, was he just a spanner in the works?"
"Well as you know it was supposed to be Molly, but silly old Stamford decided to take her place in the lift. Which was fine really, not too much of a hindrance. Molly dying was only ever going to be an added bonus; all I needed was to make a point. The identity of the body didn't really matter too much."
"Mike mattered to me," Lestrade spat with anger, evidently wounded to receive confirmation of the apparent pointlessness of his friend's death. "How can you be so bloody insensitive?"
Sherlock continued, he and Moriarty both completely ignoring Lestrade's outburst. "And you persuaded Leah to send the messages from here, so that when I received the invitation to give a talk at this school-from you-I would soon work out that she was the culprit."
"Good, well done, you're nearly there, but why did I choose Leah specifically? Why, out of all the teenagers in the world, did I select her?" Moriarty prompted, in his infuriatingly patronising manner.
"Well you needed a girl, which narrowed it down to only half of the teenage population, and you needed someone who would be so totally infatuated with you that she'd be willing to pose as a terrorist, which would have left you with the only girl in the entire world who would be stupid enough to fall for a maniac like you," Sherlock offered.
"Wrong!" Moriarty chimed. "Don't be so ignorant, Sherlock, what's to say a lovely young gay man might fall head over heels in love with me? Anyway, I actually chose a girl for the vulnerability factor. And the whole infatuation thing just came as a bonus really. I knew that as long as I used my Irish charm she'd be at my beck and call, but even I hadn't anticipated that she'd be so desperate to become the next Mrs Moriarty. Though then again, I am totally irresistible."
Sherlock scoffed.
"I hardly think you're in any position to mock me; not when you instantly assumed it was you that she had the obsession with. See, I knew you'd think that. Because, modesty never has been one of your strong traits, has it Sherlock? So very self-obsessed and narcissistic, it's almost sickening. But I mean, I suppose can't blame you, not really, you are obscenely intelligent after all, as is Leah for that matter," Moriarty hinted.
"Which is why you chose her," Sherlock added, realisation eventually flooding his thoughts.
"At last he's got it! Bravo, my man," Moriarty exclaimed, offering his mock congratulations. You may be clever when it comes to working out the identity of a murderer just by noticing an air vent, but when it comes to what's staring you in the face; you're concerningly slow on the uptake."
Sherlock gave no verbal response; he just glared harrowingly at Moriarty, waiting for him to continue.
"She's basically a female version of you, in teenage form of course. She's a protégé, in the most irritating sense of the word, like you. She's cocky, like you. She's strikingly beautiful, in an odd sort of way, like you, but don't tell John I said that though; I wouldn't want to make him jealous! And most importantly she's got good intentions, like you, which ultimately makes her, and yourself, inferior to me."
"I am most certainly not inferior to you!" Sherlock protested.
"Now, now gentlemen. Let's get back to the matter in hand," Lestrade interjected, acting the referee.
"Well, now you've got me here and I've met your new…assistant, tell me exactly what it is you want," Sherlock insisted.
"I've already told you in all my messages: I want you Sherlock. I want you to be my little pet, we could live together and we'd have such fun!" Moriarty exclaimed.
"Well as much as this domestic dream appeals to me, I'm rather busy with my work," Sherlock said sarcastically.
"I had a feeling you might say that. I knew you would need a little more incentive, bringing us round to the subject of Leah again," Moriarty told him, and Sherlock knew what was coming. "Now that I've forced a connection between you two, and you've started to identify with her, there's no way you will let me do all the nasty things to her that I've got planned."
"So it's a case of either Leah or Sherlock?" Lestrade clarified.
"Spot on Greg!" Moriarty praised the Detective Inspector.
"How do you know his name as well?" Sherlock asked in astonishment.
"Even the world's greatest criminal mastermind knows my name, how did you manage to miss it?" Lestrade joked.
"Criminal mastermind, yes. But he's certainly not the greatest." Sherlock disputed.
Moriarty ignored his jibe and continued to explain the exchange deal: "So here's the thing, I've planned a nice date for me and Leah tomorrow. I'm going to woo her; she's going to love it. There will be candles, roses and wine. It's every teenage girl's dream, her teacher taking her out-it's kind of sordid, in a romantic kind of way, don't you think? And after we've enjoyed our meal, I'm either going to take her back to my house and keep her there. Or if you do as you're told and come to the restaurant an hour into our date, which FYI will be 8pm, then I will tell her that things have gone too far and we must end our relationship. She will be distraught and storm out of the restaurant, meanwhile I will take my new date home, which is you by the way, and keep you there. The choice is really yours Sherlock. You've obviously got a lot to think about so I'll leave you to it. I'd better get back to my class anyway. Looks like John's letting them run wild out there."
Sherlock and Lestrade stood in stunned silence as they watched Moriarty leave the room.
A/N: Well there you go; we hope it was a satisfying chapter. We wonder if anyone noted the reference to one of the ACD books, let us know in a review if you did. The next chapter should be up at around the same time next week. It will contain some Sherlolly, as promised. Look forward to it!