Chapter 11: Something Wicked This Way Comes, Epilogue
Patricia Hall walked carefully to the direction of the music.
It came through the closed doors of her drawing room.
She had a hunch as to who was behind those doors.
With a deep breath, she opened the door.
''Everything went horribly wrong tonight, James.'', she said with a steady voice, closing the door and walking further inside. ''Nothing went according to plan. Every-''
''Shh!'', said the man, who had his back turned to her, raising his right hand to silence her.
Patricia's voice was caught in her throat and she obeyed.
Moriarty started swaying his right hand in delicate moves, in sync with the imposing violin music.
''I love Don Giovanni, don't you?'', he said after a while. ''It is Mozart's darkest opera. Won't you agree?''
Patricia merely nodded. ''Yes. It is… nice.''
''Nice?'', he replied with amusement. ''Your words hardly do any justice to this masterpiece.''
''It is no time for music now, James.'', she cried frustrated, walking to the mini bar, to turn the phone off.
''Don't.'', warned Moriarty and Patricia let down the small item.
With another frustrated sigh she poured herself a drink. ''I thought that idiot Greta would have told the DI what we've agreed! Nothing of this happened! Why did you kill her?''
He shrugged and Patricia sighed angrily, fiddling with the crystal glass. ''We would have gotten her out of it the way we have planned! Greta would have escaped after she had confessed to the murders and my daughter's involvement
Moriarty calmly walked and sat on the fainting couch. He crossed his legs and looked at her with a toothy grin. ''Who says nothing went according to plan?''
''Then why is my daughter not in jail? Hmm?''
''Ah, that. Well… you see dear, there were some… alterations.''
''What sort of alteration?'', replied Patricia, who was practically fuming. ''We had a deal, James! That blasted Inspector would find Greta, Greta would confess to the murders and to my daughter's involvement and Rose would be behind bars by the end of this night!''
''And you would collect her father's inheritance. Yes, yes, I'm aware.'', replied Moriarty teasingly.
Patricia left her untouched glass of scotch on the table and loomed over Moriarty. ''Then why nothing went right!?''
Moriarty smiled innocently.
''Who says nothing went according to plan?''
Patricia froze.
She felt cold droplets of sweat running down her spine and her heart felt like it stopped for a mere second.
She slowly turned and saw her daughter standing behind her with a small smile curled to her lips.
''Hello, mummy.'', she said, the smile turning into a grin.
''Rose?''
''Surprised mother?'', she smiled.
Moriarty stood and walked with confidence to the young woman's side. With ease, he circled his arm to her petite waist and brought her closer to his body.
''Bu-what? Why?''
Patricia wasn't coherent enough to form any sort of words.
''Why? Well, I always knew you didn't like me, mother, but not to this extent.'', huffed Rose. ''And when you reached out to James, I knew I should get rid of you before you got rid of me.''
Moriarty smiled and reached for the glass of scotch that Patricia had left. He almost brought it to his lips, then with a frown passed it to Rose. ''Not my favorite brand.'', he said and Rose took the glass, gulping it in one go.
''So. Where were we?'', she continued, pulling a shiny hand gun from her small bag. ''Ah, yes.''
''Rose, please. I'm your mother after all!'', cried Patricia, knowing how silly that sound.
''And I'm your daughter… yet, you were willing to send me to prison! Only then, you could get your filthy, greedy hands to my father's money to save your crumbling company.''
''You left me no choice, you little bitch!'', hissed Patricia, forgetting shortly that she was under gun threat. ''You and that bastard arranged everything! After everything I've done to help your father financially, to save his estates and money and then help you and what do I get!? Nothing! He leaves me nothing!''
''Enough!'', cried Moriarty suddenly. ''Rose, love, finish her!''
''Goodbye, mummy!'', she said innocently and fired instantly.
Patricia felt dead, her lifeless upper body on the couch, the rest on the floor.
A pool of blood started to form and paint the couch, small droplets slowly dripping on the floor and carpet.
''And she didn't utter her last words.'', said James breaking the silence.
Rose let out a cold laugh and put the gun back inside the purse. She turned to Moriarty and with the hunger evident in her eyes, grabbed the back of his neck and smashed their lips together.
Moriarty gently disengaged from her grip, a wolfish grin on his lips.
''Will your man be here to discard the body?'', asked Rose impatiently.
''Oh yes.'', he nodded and slowly walked to the mini bar to pick his phone.
Rose saw him fiddling with his phone and after a while a different piece of music filled the silent room.
''As well as yours.''
Silence hung like a guillotine over their heads, the only sound coming from his mobile.
''I love Mozart, but I adore Rossini.'', he commented. ''The Overture of The Thieving Magpie is truly genius, won't you agree?''
''What are you saying, James?'', asked Rose with a trembling voice.
He turned and looked at her. ''That my man will take care of your pretty little body too.''
Rose's pale face became gaunt, as she reached for the gun with shaky fingers.
''Oh, come on!'', nagged Moriarty in a childlike manner.
Rose raised the gun.
''I wouldn't do that if I were you!''
She fired.
''Told you!'', he said in a patronizing manner.
Rose started pulling the trigger again and again, but nothing happened.
''In case you're wondering, there was only one bullet inside that gun. True, it was quite risky that you would know, when you shot your mother, but as they say… fortune favors the bold. I had to take the risk.''
Rose's eyes were clouded with tears and fear, as her tiny form started shaking. ''Why?''
''Because I don't like playing with others, dear.'', he smiled a wicked grin that made her shudder. ''And anyway, there is always the chance that you would reveal my plans one day.'', he continued, shrugging lightly.
''You know- you know, I would never-'', she started, the sobs coming out of her throat choking her.
''Oh, don't weep my darling.'', he said softly, coming to her side to clutch her shoulders. ''You've helped enough. Those models of yours, were the perfect distraction for something greater; you should feel proud.''
Her small body was shaking in his arms, as the sobs became more and more violent. ''I thought- you and-''
''Oh, dear.'', he interrupted. ''You never really thought that you and I were together?'', he chuckled.
''Is it about money?'', she asked, her voice shaky. ''Take everything! Take all of my money, I don't care!'', she shrieked.
Moriarty gave a sigh. ''People are so base these days.'', he snorted. ''I don't want your money, I have enough resources.''
''Then what?''
''That , my darling girl, remains to be seen.'', he smiled. ''Your feud with your mother and the hate she nursed for you, made it practically easy for me to manipulate the situation to my likings. But, unfortunately, you'll not be here to view the results.''
Rose raised her head, weak to do anything else. A sob escaped the woman's lips, tears roaming down her powdered cheeks. ''Please James, please don't!'', she pleaded. ''Please, I'll do anything! I don't want to die!''
Moriarty stopped smirking and started tutting. ''I hate it when you people do that.'', he said with fake exasperation. ''You all die in the end. THAT'S WHAT PEOPLE DO!''
Rose's sobs seized the moment she saw him looking at her ferociously. Her voice stuck in her throat, unable to utter a word.
His eyes burned with pure madness and she wouldn't dare to challenge him.
He cleared his throat, his face returning to its normal calm façade. ''Besides, I've already killed you.'', he said calmly, pointing at the crystal glass on the table. ''It shouldn't take long; a couple more minutes.''
''How?''
''The scotch, love.'', he smirked. ''Didn't your mummy ever tell you? Never take anything from strangers. But do not be frightened… I'm a merciful man when I choose to.''
Moriarty saw the desperate attempts of Rose Hall to breathe, as she shuddered and writhed in his hands.
He watched her as she her mouth was gaping open, her throat dilating… he watched with satisfaction how the color of her face changed and the life was drained from her eyes.
''Not that merciful.'', he chuckled, when finally she stopped moving.
The Overture continued, this time the orchestra playing even more vigorously, as the piece was reaching its completion.
''Shall we dance?'', asked Moriarty the lifeless form in his hands.
With a chuckle he started swaying to the rhythm of the music.
''Come on, love, don't be so dead!'', he cried, as he continued moving around the room, humming the rhythm along.
Moriarty could hear the soft sound of heeled boots along the corridor, outside the room.
Soon, the door opened and closed swiftly.
With delight, he saw a delicate, yet strong form, clad in a black turtleneck and black trousers, her golden hair knotted in a Dutch braid neatly, away from her pretty face.
Her big green eyes stared at the sight in front of her impassively. ''Sir.'', she nodded curtly, her voice as sweet as honey.
Her clever eyes darted around the room, landing on the cell phone.
''Sebastiana.'', he greeted with excitement, throwing the lifeless Rose Hall at her feet.
The dead woman landed with a thud and Moran looked at her and then the other body on the floor.
''Glad you could make it.''
''Always, sir.''
He smiled. ''This is the situation.'', he continued, motioning at the bodies. He turned and walked to pick his cell phone. ''How long will it take you?'', he asked and turned the music off.
''Give me an hour.''
He walked to her side, a gentle smile on his lips. ''I can always rely on you, can't I, my dear?''
''Always, sir.'', she nodded, her crystal eyes boring into his dark ones.
He nodded, tucking his hands inside his Westwood trousers. ''I should leave you to your work then. Ta-ta.''
''Good night, sir.'', she replied and heard him, leaving the room.
Moran heard him walking down the corridor outside, still humming. She pouted slightly and opened the black, bowling bag.
She then raised her sleeves.
She put on a pair of black, leather gloves and looked at her knives.
This was going to be messy…
Note: And for the part of Moran, I've chosen Amanda Seyfried! Hope you like the change!