Dear God, He's Gone and Done It Chapter 15
Recap++++ Smiling as pleasantly as he could, Mycroft greeted the lady, 'You must be Imogene Chapel."
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"Halliwell. I'd prefer to go by my maiden name sir."
"Yes, of course, as you wish. And please, you can call me Mycroft."
"Who are you exactly and what do you want with me? That is, if you don't mind me asking."
"Of course not. One moment. Anthea, see to it that our other guests are….comfortable. I will be with them as soon as is feasible."
"Yes sir, right away. Ma'am, good day."
The lady took a seat over near the fire place that had a fire going to knock the chill off; these old buildings were sort of drafty at times. She looked up at Mycroft with an arched eyebrow, waiting for his explanation.
After making sure she was comfortably seated, Mycroft situated himself in the chair directly across from her.
"Ms. Halliwell….I am assuming that *Ms* is how you'd like me to refer to you….' Seeing her nod in agreement, 'Madam, I don't mean to alarm you, but I may have some information for you about your daughter."
Imogene stood abruptly.
"You lie. My daughter is dead. Has been for ages." To look into her eyes anybody would swear that she believed those statements.
"On the contrary, she is quite alive. She has been in my employ for almost the last 25 years. I can show you proof if that is what you would like."
"A little proof would be nice, sir. Please." Imogene was nodding slowly as if considering Mycroft carefully.
Mycroft walked over to a bookcase and took down the box he had brought from the Holmes' London mansion.
"Most of what is in this box is actually a bit old, I do have more recent photos, among other things, that I can bring out if you would like. And then there is this." Mycroft handed her the video tape that he managed to find.
Imogene carefully took the box and tape from his long fingered hands and had begun sifting through the pictures.
"I remember these people. My mother and father spoke of them often when I was growing up. We spent time at each other's homes. They had a place out near a river…..Dart…the River Dart. The older lady was into mathematics somehow." Mycroft knew the precise moment that Imogene came across the photographs that showed her daughter. She went completely silent; except for the gasp of surprise you could have heard a pin drop.
"She was so tiny, always so tiny. She was my little pixie. Who is that little boy in the photograph with her?"
"That is my brother, Sherlock. The older couple is my parents. They still have the country house on the river, matter of fact that is where they prefer to stay these days since mummy retired from her work…the calmer life in the country seems to suit them better."
"My Lila and your brother were friends?"
"Hardly. My brother was an aloof, precocious child. He has never been agreeable to being friends with very many people at all. Currently, he has one person he considers his best friend, a man named John Watson, a former surgeon for Her Majesty's army. But there are a few others that have found themselves drawn into his small circle. DI Lestrade who is a senior detective with NSY. Molly Hooper who is the lead pathologist at St. Barts hospital. John's wife, Mary, who coincidentally is a close personal friend of your daughter. Ah, and Mrs. Hudson, his land lady. Other than that there are very few people that could ever claim to have a place in Sherlock's life. But, he was kind enough in his way to Lila. He was a child that always loved science and learning. His mind works a thousand miles a minute. As a boy he used to like to perform little childish experiments. Lila seems to have tolerated this with an unlimited amount of grace. Mother said once she caught Sherlock burning some of the ends of Lila's hair and was going to scold him for it but Lila told her that she had agreed to participate. Sherlock wasn't worried about being scolded, but he was mystified to say the least that anyone would actually do that for him. He has a habit of rubbing people the wrong way you see."
"How old was he in these photos?"
"I think eight, or close to it."
"Lila would have been about four. You said you have more about her?"
"Yes. Before I give you the current information on your daughter, I want to talk with you. I feel as though I should explain a bit about how I came to know your daughter. It will help you reacquaint yourself with her."
"Please, go on."
"I only wanted to be sure, because none of this is pleasant, and I wanted to soften the blow a bit."
"Somehow I get the impression that you are not a man that suffers fools lightly."
"Somehow I get the impression that you are no fool."
"Please, go on, I've waited far too long to hear news of my daughter."
"Very well. First of all, I regret to inform you that after you were separated from you daughter, at some point you husband made the decision to sell her to some unsavory people."
"Human traffickers you mean?"
"Yes, quite."
"That figures. He never really wanted children, especially not a girl. To him they are utterly useless with the exception of one thing." She never really stopped looking at the photos of her daughter as a child while Mycroft spoke.
"My history with her began what seems like centuries ago. At the time I was rising in the ranks of my agency and I was on a particular assignment that took me to Morocco. We were chasing some traffickers and had been led to the city of Marrakesh. It was a stroke of luck that, on the very street that I was walking along, I ran into a girl. She couldn't have been more than fifteen and I had found her lying in the street bleeding, a gun-shot to the chest. I noticed immediately that she was pregnant as well, quite so. I had no idea how far along she was, but that was hardly the point. I could tell by some of the markings on her that she was one of the young women we had been sent to retrieve."
He saw that Imogene had some questions and stopped momentarily to give her a moment to voice them.
"What agency? Preg…she has children?' Here her voice grew quite venomous, 'What markings?"
"Currently I hold a minor position in the British government. But at the time I was making ranks at MI-5, and then MI-6. These days they work for me. Yes, she has children; several if my sources are correct. And, there were some sort of tattoos that had been placed on her, there was even one brand that I had been made aware of; traffickers often use tattoos or branding to mark their property.
As I was saying, she was bleeding from a horrendous gun-shot wound to the chest. It appeared as though she had been running for her life or perhaps the life of her unborn child and hadn't quite made it to freedom. I could still hear her pursuer yelling for her. She had managed to dodge out of his sight before collapsing, but I was not sure how long our luck would hold out. I radioed my men and told them where I was and to begin sweeping the general area for the traffickers. Meanwhile, I scooped the girl up and got her away from there as quickly as possible."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. I managed to get her into hospital. Her heart stopped once on the way there. She went into labor, giving birth to a boy. According to the doctor she was approximately seven to eight months pregnant; the size of the baby made it hard to discern. He was a big baby. Sometime during the delivery her heart stopped again. She was revived and spent nearly a month in that hospital; after this time I had her shipped to a private hospital here, in London. Some would say that I was out of my mind, but she was the only girl we knew of that had escaped; the intel that she could give us would be worth its weight in gold. Nearly ninety percent of the girls and young women that have been a part of the trafficking world don't make it; most die of disease and torture, according to statistics.
No, I knew Lila was different. I had her brought here to London. Once she was much more recovered I was able to speak to her. Our early conversations didn't consist of much more than listening to the sound of my own voice. For the longest time, Lila wouldn't speak. I was not certain if that meant she couldn't or just didn't feel inclined. Over time, she began to carry her portion of our conversations a bit better. I found out that she was almost completely illiterate, was ignorant of basic education…as a result of her time in the world she had never been sent to a proper school."
"My darlin' girl."
"Yes. I took the liberty of arranging her education. I found out at once that her ignorance was not because of a lack of intelligence. She soaked up all the information that was given to her like a sponge. In about a year, maybe slightly longer, she had roughly caught up to where her peers would be with their education."
He watched Imogene's face; she seemed genuinely relieved that someone had finally taken some trouble with Lila.
"When she was of age and legally able to make her own decisions, I offered her a place in our agency. She jumped at the chance. Lila wanted to do something that would provide for her son; she named him Tarek. She knew that even if something were to happen to her as an agent, that there would be money in the bank for Tarek's upkeep. She knew that he would get into some wonderful schools. I think she really did it all for him. One of her more selfless acts."
"When will I be able to see her?"
"I'm working on that as we speak. I do want to be as honest as possible about what is going on. She was abducted late last night. The abductor sent me a video at the earliest possible moment."
"What do you mean…"
"I viewed the video, first thing this morning, just before you got here. At that time, she was still alive. The abductor wants to use her as bait, I think."
"Why? What on earth could he possibly want with her?"
"Do you know anything about a man named Moriarty?"
"Are you serious? I've been locked away in a loony bin for almost thirty years."
"Yes. James Moriarty. He is THE criminal mastermind. He is the thinking man's criminal. He has been after my brother and me for quite a few years. The last time he faced my brother, Sherlock, he forced Sherlock to commit suicide. If this was not done, he had given orders for the three people closest to Sherlock to be murdered by snipers."
"Oh, I'm sorry about your brother."
"If my brother had actually died, I would be touched by your thoughtfulness. As a matter of fact, we faked the suicide; the details are boring, but it involved Sherlock jumping from the roof of St. Barts hospital. Before Sherlock could do anything to stop him, Moriarty pulled out a gun and shot himself in the mouth. Or….that is what he wanted my brother to believe. It seems that they were evenly matched as far as ideas for faking death anyway."
"So, your brother, Sherlock, is still alive?"
"Very much so. And I fear that Lila is very much in love with him. I will let you know that due to some of the events, certain trauma in her life, Lila has forgotten almost everything about her life from before. She doesn't remember her own name and she doesn't remember her real birthday. When I made a place for her in my agency, I named her. We had to have something to call her. I named her Barbary, a name that loosely translates into 'Stranger'."
"Well, it works, considering that you found her on the streets of Morocco. Makes sense. Why do you fear Lila being in love with your brother?"
"We gave her a manufactured identity. But madam, I want you to know, she barely remembers you. This is the only thing she has left of you."
Mycroft produced the old faded photo of a young Barbary, then known as Lila, with her mother. Imogene saw how it had been creased over the years, apparently the girl had held this photo very dearly to her heart.
"And as to your question as to why I fear her loving Sherlock….I don't really fear it per se. But I know how Sherlock is, how we both are. We don't really get entangled in emotions or sentiment. It's just not a regular part of who we are. Our parents were quite loving of us actually; but due to our work and the danger it puts us in almost daily, it is better that we stay separate from anything that could compromise us when at all possible. And also, I have never really known Lila to actually love anyone she came in contact with, the exception being her son, of course. I think she came close once. She had taken a sabbatical of sorts, let's call it that. She had been living in Scotland for a time. We needed her there to keep an eye on some interests that we had there. During her time there, it seems, she met a man and settled down. They started a family. I almost pulled the plug on her work, but the 'happy family' routine was actually beneficial to our cause."
"Where are the man and her family now?"
"It ended rather poorly. They had been living in the highlands, a small village; rather quaint I must say. Some rather unsavory characters, Serbs, that wanted my attention, attacked them. Their cottage was burned to the ground with her husband and baby in it while they forced her to watch. Lila never gave them any useful information against me or the remainder of the British government. And they tortured her for hours just to be certain.
After that time she never really bothered with relationships. I have never heard her speak of caring for anyone.
But Lila loves Sherlock, nonetheless. I can tell. I only say that I fear it, because I don't want it to wind up messy for either of them. If something were to happen to Sherlock, I don't know what Lila would do. She can be a bit of a loose cannon; the very thing that makes her a wonderful asset could get her killed. And if Sherlock were to let himself care for her, only to have her leave him in some way….it would crush him.
He tries to come across as cold and unfeeling, a bit of a machine in the emotional department. But, the truth is, when he does allow himself the ability to care for others, he cares so deeply. It is only having been hurt time and again that has made him behave the way he does. Losing her would nearly do him in I think."
"What sort of work does she do for you in your agency?' Seeing Mycroft's look, 'I know that you can't give me details, I would never ask for that. But just a general idea…"
"I would send her on various assignments. Usually it is assignments that involve stopping other human trafficking rings like the one we saved her from. I find that she has a particular insight that is invaluable. That, and she is quite a good fighter. She is most proficient in hand to hand combat as well as with a blade, any blade. I have known of her to fight to the last man…or woman…standing. She has used what she knows about the proclivities of men to get close enough to a mark to kill them if needs be. And often times, it needs be.
Most recently, I had assigned her to protect Sherlock. There was a case that he had worked, in conjunction with NSY, which wound up having some connections to a human trafficking ring. Something about bodies turning up in the river, I believe. In short, I have heard chatter that the ring leaders might make a move against Sherlock as well as his colleague John Watson. John has a family; along with his wife he has a young child, Lucy. It wouldn't do to have something dreadful befall him. Not only would his family be distraught and likely put in danger, but his loss would cripple my brother, emotionally, I fear.
As it turns out, one of the ring leaders coming after Sherlock is the same man that last….owned…Lila. His name is Khaled and he is the same man that shot her in the chest in the streets of Morocco, as well as being Tarek's father. This means he is also aiming for me; I'm more of a bonus for him. Getting rid of both Holmes brothers for the price of one, I am sure nothing would suit him or other criminals of the world any better.
I am sure this is where James Moriarty has come into the picture. Moriarty wants both Sherlock and me out of the picture as bad as Khaled does. And a man like Khaled is likely intelligent enough to know that a problem shared is a problem halved. If he can pay Moriarty enough, he will gain an ally of sorts. Although, I wouldn't trust Moriarty; he's proven himself changeable, quite unpredictable. "
"Her *real* purpose?"
"Mainly she is an assassin. As an agent, she is sent in to gather information for the British government. In doing so, she is also to ferret out anybody who means to do harm to Queen and country. Once that is ascertained she eliminates the threat."
"So, what now?"
"I have up to twenty-four hours to find her. Knowing how Moriarty works….You know, let's just find her. I have some of my best people on this."
"What aren't you telling me?"
Mycroft knew this woman wouldn't stop until he was forth coming with the information she wanted.
"Moriarty is the kind of monster that will do everything he can think of to break her, as if she is a toy. And quite honestly, Lila, as an agent, is the kind of person who will push every button the man has…as well as the buttons of his associates…in an effort to cause them to make a mistake and give her an opening to do what she does best. But Moriarty isn't the typical. He's cerebral. He was able to drive my brother to jumping off of a building, and my brother isn't one given to sentiment easily."
"Is he worse than the man you saved her from in the first place?"
"As far as his level of intelligence, yes. He has a devious mind that allows him limitless possibilities. But as far as their levels of cruelty, I believe that they are perfectly matched. This is why I worry. Lila has taken a lot over the years. She will not be easily broken. Just the other day, Mary was saying to me that she was actually worried about Lila's state of mind. This is why I am throwing the full weight of my position in the government into getting her back."
"I want to help in any way that I can."
"I will let you know what I can when I can. I cannot, in good conscience send you in there to look for her. That would only get you killed."
Mycroft was cut off by a knock on his office door.
"Come in." Looking up from Imogene, he sees Mary.
"I'm sorry; I didn't realize you were with someone."
"Don't be silly. This is Imogene Halliwell. She is Barbary's mother. Imogene, this young lady is Mary; we spoke of her briefly a few moments ago."
"Barbary's….I've misjudged you a bit then it seems. Ma'am."
"You don't have to be so formal with me Mary. Mycroft was telling me that you are Lila's friend."
"Lila?"
"It seems as though Lila is Barbary's real name."
"You've really been digging into this, yeah. Thank you. I know how much it will mean to her." Mary forgot herself for just a moment and leapt at Mycroft, hugging him.
"Mary, what's wrong? It's not like you to come looking for me."
"I just received this text. It's from Bar…Lila. It's not her cell number though."
"How do you know it's from her then?"
"The code. I remember something about it from years ago; a conversation that we had."
"A skip code?"
"No, a rhyme of sorts. Skip codes were never her thing."
Pulling the text up on her phone screen, Mary showed it to Mycroft.
Rub a dub dub, three men in a tub.
And who do you think they be?
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker.
Turn them out, knaves all three.
"That's the 1830 version of the rhyme."
"Yes, you know how she is about things."
"Sorry."
Mycroft and Mary stopped and looked at Imogene
"I used to read her nursery rhymes when she was little. I don't know why she picked this one."
"It's ok. There was a conversation I had with her once. We were on a….Wait, how much does she know Mycroft?"
"He told me Lila is an assassin. I didn't ask for major details."
"Alright, well….we had just wrapped a case. It was a difficult one….I'm sorry, I have to call her Barbary for now…."
"It's fine, do go on."
"Barbary took the case hard. I don't know why. But somehow or other the conversation turned to talking about things that truly terrified us.
She's not scared of much, your girl. Or at least she tries to act as though she isn't. But she did say that there are only four people in the world that put the fear of God in her were the Butcher, the Baker, and the Candlestick Maker. I asked her what that meant."
"Yes, Mary. I have less than twenty-four hours, currently, to find her. I'm in a bit of a time crunch."
"You said four…but you only listed three…."
"When she was stuck with Khaled, prior to being recovered in Morocco, there were many men that worked for him or with him in various capacities. There was a doctor that worked for him, taking care of the girls I guess. He had lost his license to practice in the legit medical world, so he sold his services to the black market. He sometimes looked to former Nazi doctors for inspiration. Barbary nicknamed him Mengele. He has a little game he used to like to play with the girls, although he rarely played it with Barbary on account she got good at it…."
"Mary."
"He would use a chemical of some sort to temporarily blind them. This was only resorted to once a girl had gotten used to the treatment the men would subject them to. They could blind a girl temporarily and torture her for hours if they liked, and they wouldn't even have to really restrain her. If she is blind she can't see to run away. But Barbary got good at the game. She could tell you who was in the room by the sound of their footsteps, the smell of their cologne….or even their own body odor if there was any. She could tell you what devices they might be about to use to torture her based on her guess of who was in the room, the sounds the tools made, etc. If she knew enough of the variables, she could mentally prepare herself and she could take anything they gave her. They made a game out of her blindness and she made a game out of them. After this, the good doctor mostly left her alone, but by this time she had already earned pride of place with Khaled anyway."
"What about the other three?"
"Yes. Well, she nicknamed these three men according to the nursery rhyme. They each lived up to their titles. They had access to most any girl they chose, except for Barbary. They were only allowed to go so far with her, any further and Khaled would have opened a new hole in their heads. But where the other girls were concerned, they were allowed free reign. If a girl wasn't fetching a high enough price or fell out of favor in some other way and needed to be disposed of, they called one of these men. They would 'play' with the girl until she was pitifully begging them to kill her.
The Butcher had a tendency to cut up his victims, allowing them to die slowly, bleeding out.
The Baker thought nothing of throwing the girls into the furnace of whatever warehouse they were occupying while they were alive to burn to death.
The Candlestick Maker….he would tie the girls up to a stake and set them on fire while they were still alive.
Barbary told me there were many times that she and the other girls had to sit there and listen to the screams of the girls who were being killed."
"She never once mentioned any of this when we first brought her back to London. She's never brought this up."
"Any wonder? But I am trying to figure out why she would send this to me of all people and why now? Wait, what do you mean less than twenty-four hours to find her?"
Mycroft brought his laptop over to the coffee table and set it down, pressing play. Mary watched the video carefully.
"Moriarty then? Who was manning the camera?"
"I assume it is his man. One Sebastian Moran."
"Damn!"
"Mary, what is it?"
"Moran is the Butcher!"