The three of them, Sherlock, Mary and John entered the morgue. The detective brushed by the officers present without a second glance, leaving the doctor to smooth things over with Gregson.
Sherlock's gaze swept over the morgue as he took everything in and started filing away his preliminary observations, his mobile pressed to his ear. With a growl, he pressed 'end' and cut the unanswered call short. Why was it he was expected to answer Mycroft's calls promptly, but his brother didn't feel the need to reciprocate? He was probably trying to avoid another tongue lashing over Molly.
Sherlock swept towards the centre of the room, though with a bit less energy than normal, and squatted down to look at the footprint that was clearly visible there. He glanced back towards the door, noting that there were no traces of dirt or footprints of any kind to be seen. Interesting. "Look at this, John." Sherlock pointed at the footprint. "This was left here deliberately for me to find. With no debris tracked to this point, this dirt would have had to been dropped here and then stepped in purposefully." Looking up, he spotted a bit of vegetation. "Ah, how convenient." As he reached for the small bunch of leaves, he glanced up at nothing and made a small angry gesture.
John reached out and closed his hand on Sherlock's wrist. Silver-grey eyes met his. The clear distress the doctor saw there slowly drained away into a thankful smile. John cleared his throat before asking awkwardly, "Do I make him go away?"
Sherlock's eyes slid away from John's face and darted around the room, lighting on Mary. She gave him a nod and a smile as if to say 'Tell him.' He looked back at John. "Apparently so." A shuddering sigh escaped him and he changed the subject. "We're obviously being set up."
Brow creased, John asked, "How so?"
"Undoubtedly, this soil sample and these leaves will point us to a specific..."
His mobile pinged. With a roll of his eyes, Sherlock fetched it from his pocket. There was a video message waiting. Glancing at John, he opened the message. The detective found himself unsurprised to see Molly staring back at him. She was bound and gagged, but not blindfolded. There was a trickle of blood running down her face from her hairline. Oddly, it didn't make her look vulnerable. When coupled with the anger burning in her eyes, it made her look fierce. "Good girl, Molly," Sherlock muttered. "Don't let them break you."
The viewpoint of the video shifted. Now it was trained on what was clearly a bomb. The device had a timing mechanism attached reading 04:47:03. The last two digits were decreasing at a rate of one per second.
At John's questioning look, Sherlock handed his phone to John. The doctor walked over to Mary and they watched the short video together.
"Jesus!" John's hand closed on the phone so tightly his knuckles went white.
Mary's mouth was set in a grim line.
"Ok. Ok." John started pacing furiously. He stopped and looked at Sherlock. "Now what?"
Instead of answering, Sherlock began deducing aloud, "This is all being done in Moriarty's name, but it lacks his elegance."
"But he used bombs before," John interjected.
"Which is why he would never use them again. Up until now, I have been assuming he left directions, a plan to be executed, but this... No. Whoever is doing this is playing by ear." He was up and pacing as he rubbed his hands together beneath his chin. "So, this is either a diversion or a trap."
Mary waved her hand towards the mobile that was still clutched in John's hand. "But how do we know which one?"
"We don't. It will be just Sherlock and me." John gave her a stern look. "We shouldn't even have brought you here."
"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she shot back.
"John knows that, but you have to think of the baby as well." As Sherlock spoke, the look he gave her was one of understanding. He would never have agreed to being left behind, regardless of the circumstances, if their rolls had been reversed. Abruptly his expression changed and his eyes flickered to the side. "Shut up!"
Moving to Sherlock's side, John reached out and took the detective's shaking hand. "Just focus on the clues and tell me what we do next."
"What we're going to do, is play their subpar game." Sherlock gathered a sample of the dirt and the leaves to be analysed in the lab. "And Mary is going back home."