Phew! This was a long chapter, but I've managed to finish it. So enjoy!

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Now I had no idea that Shirley had just figured out who the murderer was in that moment, nor did I realize that she had just gone outside to confront him because he had arrived at our flat and was waiting for her. But it had all happened. Now, after this whole ordeal was over, Shirley told me everything that occurred once she left the flat.

We now had a dead cabbie, a broken window, and a crime scene at a college. What was it all about? As we sat in the Chinese restaurant, I leaned in closer to her. "So, what exactly happened back there?" I wondered.

Shirley didn't say anything for a moment and simply took a bite of her food. I think this was probably the first time I had ever seen her eat. Funny, I was starting to think she just got her nourishment from the air or something. Finally, she looked up at me.

"First of all, I'm sure that you realized that I went downstairs to confront the murderer?" she asked.

I nodded. "Well that's clear to me now," I said, "But how did you figure it out?"

"I began thinking about who the murderer could possibly be. You remember what I told you before? He passed unnoticed wherever he went, hunted in the middle of the crowd. Then it occurred to me, a cab driver. Of course! Each of the victims were all in need of a cab the night the died. I then wondered how the phone could have possibly been at the flat when it occurred to me that someone must have brought it there at some point in time, which could only mean that the murderer had brought it since he was the one who had possession of it.

"It was at that moment that I received a text that read only, 'Come with me.' Then everything fell into place. There was a cab driver waiting for me downstairs. Of course! How could I have been so blind?

"It was then that I left you and Lestrade to go outside. I found the cabbie standing in front of his cab which was parked right outside our flat. He fit my profile of an experienced cabbie. He was shorter, older, and wore small round glasses.

"'Taxi for Shirley Holmes,' he said.

"'I didn't order a taxi,' I told him.

"'Doesn't mean you don't need one,' he replied.

"I recognized him of course. I remembered him from our little trip to Northumberland Street. 'You're the cabbie,' I said, 'The one that stopped outside Northumberland Street. It was you, not your passenger.' See, Jen? He had come to Northumberland Street after all.

"'No one ever thinks about the cabbie,' he said, 'It's like you're invisible. Just the back of a head. Proper advantage for a serial killer.'

"'Is this a confession?' I asked him.

"'Oh yeah,' he said, 'I'll tell you what else, if you call the coppers now, I won't run. I'll sit quietly and they can take me down, I promise.'

"'Why?' I asked.

"'Because you're not going to do that.'

"'Am I not?' I challenged.

"'I didn't kill those four people, Ms. Holmes,' he said, 'I spoke to them and then they killed themselves. If you get the coppers now, I promise you one thing, I will never tell you what I said.'

"With that, he turned to get into the taxi. Naturally, I was curious. 'No one else will die though, I believe they call that a result,' I said.

"'And you will never understand how those people died,' the cabbie said, 'What kind of result do you care about?'

"He got into the cab. He was good, I had to admit. He knew how to play on my burning curiosity. I looked in through the window at him, 'If I wanted to understand, what would I do?' I asked.

"'Let me take you for a ride,' he said.

"'So you can kill me too?' I asked.

"'I don't want to killed you, Ms. Holmes,' he replied, 'I'm going to talk to you and then you're going to kill yourself.'

"He was very good and playing with my curiosity. His overconfidence that he would be able to kill me challenged my own confidence that I would be able to escape it. After a moment, I did get into the back of the cab.

"You know me well enough by now to know that I of course had deduced enough about him and his situation within the first minute of our drive to tell him his whole life story, but I'll get back to that later. In the meantime, I decided to ask him some questions I was not entirely clear on, such as how he had found me.

"'I recognized you,' he told me, 'As soon as I saw you chasing my cab. Shirley Holmes. I was warned about you. I've been on your website too. Brilliant stuff, loved it!'

"Out of the many flatteries that came out of his mouth, the part about the warning was what interested me the most. 'Who?' I asked, 'Who would notice me?'

"'You're too modest, Ms. Holmes,' he said.

"'I'm really not.'

"'You got yourself a fan.'

"Of course this fascinated me. 'Tell me more.'

"'That's all you're going to know in this lifetime.'

"We didn't say anything more until we arrived at out destination. Naturally, I recognized it immediately, but I played the fool as the cabbie got out and came around to my door. 'Where are we?' I asked.

"'You know every street in London,' he said, 'You know exactly where we are.'

"'Roland-Kerr Further Education College. Why here?'

"'It's open,' the cabbie explained, 'The cleaners are in. One thing about being a cabbie, you always know a nice quiet spot for a murder. I'm surprised more of us don't branch out.'

"'And you just walk your victims in? How?' I wondered.

"He immediately proceeded to pull out a gun and point it at my head. He couldn't have been more boring and predictable. 'Dull,' I told him.

"'Don't worry,' he assured me, 'It gets better.'

"I was not impressed at all though. You can't just make people take their own lives at gunpoint. And I made a point of telling him so.

"'I don't,' he said, 'It's much better than that. I don't need this with you, because I know you'll follow me.'

"He withdrew the gun and began walking towards one of the buildings to the college. I admit, my curiosity did overrule my pride and I got out of the cab to follow him. He led me into a random classroom and switched on the lights.

"'So what do you think?' he asked. I only shrugged since I did not know what part of the room I was supposed to be critiquing. It was just an average classroom with tables, chairs, lab tables, etc.

"'It's up to you,' the cabbie said, 'You're the one who's going to die here.'

"I was amused with his confidence. Because what could he possibly say that would make me want to take my own life? 'No, I'm not,' I said, matching his confidence.

"'That's what they all say,' the cabbie said. He gestured to one of the tables, 'Shall we talk?'

We both took a seat at the table, facing each other. 'Don't you think it was a bit risky?' I asked him, 'You took me away under the nose of about half a dozen policemen. They're not that stupid. And Mr. Hudson will remember you.'

"'You call that a risk?' the cabbie asked, 'Nah. This is a risk.'

"He then pulled out a small glass bottle containing a single white pill with red speckles and set it on the table. I knew what it was. It was the poison he had used to kill the four other people, but I still wondered how had he managed to get them to take it.

"'I like this bit,' he said, 'Because you don't get it, do you? But you're about to. I just have to do this.'

Then he took out another small glass bottle with a single pill inside it and set it beside the first. They both looked exactly the same. I stared at the bottles, trying to figure out what it meant.

"'Weren't expecting that, were you?' the cabbie asked, 'You're going to love this.'

"'Love what?' I asked.

"'Shirley Holmes, look at you. Here in the flesh. That website of yours, your fan told me about it.'

"Again, I was puzzled with this mysterious person, my so-called fan. 'My fan?' I asked, slightly exasperated.

"'You are brilliant,' the cabbie said, 'You are a proper genius. The Science of Deduction. Now that is proper thinking. Between you and me, why can't people think? Don't it make you mad? Why can't people just think?'

"'Oh I see. So you're a proper genius too,' I said sarcastically.

"'Don't look it, do I?' the cabbie replied, 'Funny little man driving a cab. But you'll know better in a minute. Chances are, it'll be the last thing you'll ever know.'

"I had, had enough of his overconfidence for now and wanted to know what he intended to do with the two pills in front of us. 'OK, two bottles. Explain.'

"'There's a good bottle and a bad bottle,' the cabbie explained, 'Take the pill from the good bottle, you live. Take the pill from the bad bottle, you die.'

"'Both bottles are of course identical,' I said, catching on.

"'In every way,' he replied.

"'And you know which is which?' I asked.

"'Of course I know!'

"But I don't.'

"'It wouldn't be a game if you knew,' the cabbie said, 'You're the one who chooses.'

"'Why should I? I've got nothing to go on,' I pointed out, 'What's in it for me?'

"'I haven't told you the best bit yet,' the cabbie said, 'Whatever pill you choose, I take the pill from the other one. And then together, we take our medicine. I won't cheat. It's your choice. I'll take whatever pill you don't. You didn't expect that, did you, Ms. Holmes?'

"I admit, this little game of his intrigued me. It was a proper tricky little setup he had. 'So this is what you did to the rest of them?' I asked, 'You gave them a choice?'

"'And now I'm giving you one,' he replied, 'Take your time, get yourself together. I want your best game.'

"There was one major flaw in his setup that I greatly disapproved of, however, which I immediately proceeded to point out to him. 'It's not a game, it's chance.'

"'I've played four times, I'm alive,' the cabbie said, 'It's not chance, Ms. Holmes, it's chess. It's a game of chess. And this is the move.'

"He then pushed one of the bottles towards me. 'Did I just give you the good bottle or the bad bottle?' he asked, 'You can choose either one.'

"I was not as entertained by this game anymore, even with his little chess move. I stared at the two bottles for a long while. There did not seem to be any possible way to determine which was the good one or which was the bad one.

"'Are you ready yet, Ms. Holmes?' the cabbie asked after a long while, 'Ready to play?'

"'Play what?' I asked, 'It's a 50/50 chance.'

"'You're not playing numbers, you're playing me,' the cabbie said, 'Did I just give you the good pill or the bad pill? Is it a bluff, or a double bluff, or a triple bluff?'

"'Any way, it's still just chance,' I insisted.

"'Four people in a row? It's not chance,' the cabbie said.

"'Luck,' I said.

"'It's genius!' the cabbie replied, 'I know how people think.'

"I recall rolling my eyes when he said that. I've yet to meet another person besides myself who knows the human mind as well as I do. This cabbie was just being far too overconfident.

"But the cabbie continued on. 'I know how people think I think,' he told me, 'I can see it all like a map inside my head. Everyone's so stupid, even you. Or maybe God just love me.'

"'Either way, you're wasted as a cabbie,' I said. Now, it was time for a game-changer. 'So, you risked your life four times just to kill strangers, why?'

"'Time to play,' the cabbie said.

"'Oh I am playing,' I said, 'This is my turn. There's shaving foam behind your left ear. Nobody's pointed it out to you. There's traces of where it's happened before, so obviously you live on your own. There's no one to tell you. But there's a photograph in your cab of children and the children's mother have been cut out of the picture. If she'd died, she'd still be there. The photograph's old, but the frame's new. You think of your children, but you don't get to see them. Estranged father. She took the kids, but you still love them and it still hurts. Ah, but there's more. Your clothes, recently laundered, but everything you're wearing is at least three years old. Keeping up appearances, but not planning ahead. And here you are on a kamikaze murder spree, what's that about?'

"It was then that the last puzzle piece fell into place and I realized. 'Ahh, three years ago. Is that when they told you?' I asked.

"'Told me what?' the cabbie asked.

"'That you're a deadman walking,' I replied.

"'So are you,' the cabbie retorted.

"'But you don't have long now, do you?' I asked.

"'Aneurism, right here,' he said, pointing to his head, 'Any breath could be my last.'

"'And because you're dying, you've just killed four people?' I wondered.

"'I've outlive four people,' he corrected me, 'That's the most fun you can have on an aneurism.'

"But somehow, that didn't seem right to me. 'No,' I said, "There's something else. You didn't just kill four people because you're bitter. Bitterness is a paralytic. Love is a much more vicious motivator. Somehow this is about your children.'

"'Oh, you are good, aren't you?' the cabbie remarked.

"'But how?" I asked.

"'When I die, they won't get much, my kids,' he said, 'Not a lot of money in driving cabs.'

"'Or serial killing,' I remarked.

"'You'd be surprised,' he said.

"'Surprise me,' I said.

"'I have a sponsor,' he told me.

"'You have a what?'

"'For every life I take, money goes to my kids,' the cabbie explained, 'See? It's nicer than you think.'

"'Who would sponsor a serial killer?' I asked, shocked.

"'Who would be a fan of Shirley Holmes?' he asked, 'You're not the only one to enjoy a good murder. There's others out there just like you, except you're just a woman. And they're so much more than just one person.'

"'What do you mean, more than one person?' I asked, 'An organization? What?'

"'There's a name that no one says, and I'm not going to say it either,' the cabbie said, 'Now enough chatter. Time to choose.'

"'What if I don't choose either?' I asked, 'I could just walk out of here.'

"The cabbie pulled the gun he had out of his pocket and pointed it right in my face. 'You can take the 50/50 chance or I can shoot you in the head,' he said, 'Funny enough, nobody's ever one for that option.'

"'I'll have the gun, please,' I said.

"'You sure?' the cabbie asked.

"'Definitely,' I replied, 'The gun.'

"'You don't want to phone a friend?' the cabbie asked.

"'The gun,' I insisted.

"The cabbie pulled the trigger, but, as I expected, only a flame came out the end. It was a cigarette lighter, not an actual gun. "I know a real gun when I see one," I told him.

"'None of the others did,' the cabbie said.

"'Clearly,' I replied, 'Well this has been very interesting. I look forward to the court case.'

"I got up to leave and was almost to the door when the cabbie called me back. 'Just before you go, did you figure it out? Which one's the good bottle?'

"'Of course,' I replied, 'Child's play.'

"'Well which one?' he asked, 'Which one would you have picked, just so I know whether I could have beaten you. Come on, play he game.'

"I hesitated, but decided to go back and pick up the bottle with what I had decided had the clean pill in it. 'Oh, interesting,' the cabbie said, picking up the other bottle, 'So what do you think? Shall we? Really, what do you think? Can you beat me? Are you clever enough to bet your life? I bet you get bored, don't you. I know you do. A woman like you, so clever. But what's the point of being clever if you can't prove it? Still the addict. But this, this is what you're really addicted to. You'll do anything, anything at all to stop being bored. You're not bored now, are you?'

"We were both so close to putting the pills into our mouths when suddenly a shot rang through the air and the cabbie fell to the ground. Now, I don't have to tell you, Jen, where that shot came from. I looked at the broken window across the room where the shot had been fired from and saw nothing, then I looked at the cabbie who was lying on the floor in his own blood, coughing.

"'Was I right?' I asked, 'I was, wasn't I? Did I get it right?'

"The cabbie didn't answer and I threw down the pill in frustration. 'OK, tell me this,' I said, 'Your sponsor, who was it? The one that told you about me, my fan. I want a name.'

"'No,' the cabbie said.

"'You're dying,' I said, 'But there's still time to hurt you. Give me a name.'

"The cabbie still refused, so I did what I had to and stepped on his wounded shoulder, forcing him to cry out in pain. "A name, now! The name!"

"Finally, he gave in and shouted, 'MORIARTY!"

"I took my foot off him just as his eyes closed in death. And that, Jen, is the whole story."

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This was sort of a shout out to the old Sherlock Holmes stories where Holmes would always tell Watson his stories after he's returned from whatever adventure he'd just been on. I figured it was the best way to tell the whole cabbie/pill scene. Reviews are appreciated! :)