Lestrade wove in and out of traffic, finally settling in the right lane before turning to glance at Sherlock. "Alright, we're on our way. Now can you tell me why it is so urgent that we go back to London after you dragged me all of the way out to Portsmouth?"

"Dragged you? I hardly dragged you. You volunteered."

"That isn't the point."

"Aren't we going to Cosham to find John?" Mary asked.

"No time," Sherlock said. "We can catch up with him later. We have to go back to London before all of the evidence is gone."

"Evidence of what?" Lestrade asked. "You said that Father Christmas was murdered. How do you think that he died now?"

"He died because he had a food allergy."

Lestrade glanced over at him. "But that's exactly what you concluded before. I don't understand what the rush..."

"The difference is that before I thought it was an accident. Now, I know that it was murder."

"Murder? Alright Sherlock, tell me how."

Sherlock pulled out a box with a picture of a cake on it. "The first thing that I did when I noticed the signs of shock was to read the ingredients on the box. They clearly stated that the cake included nuts. Strange of him not to notice. He was always so careful, wearing the bracelet, carrying medicine with him. Why would he forget to check the ingredients on the box? Then I noticed. This is the picture that was on the box in his dressing room. This very picture. However, the brand of cake with this picture on the cover is guaranteed nut free. I picked this up at the station. This box says, "No nut were used in the making of this product, or any other product in our factory." It is one of their selling points. He ate the cake because it looked like a cake that he had eaten many times before. Someone pasted a picture of this cake over a different one that had contained nuts. That means that someone meant for him to find it and eat it. Someone meant for him to go into shock. It was murder. Premeditated murder, and the murderer will get away if we don't get there before all of the evidence is gone."

Mary sighed. She slumped down in her chair and leaned against the door.

"What about you Mary? Do you want me to...I don't know, drop you off at the train station?"

"No, It's alright, Gregg. Sherlock is on a case. I know that nothing can defect him from that."

Lestrade stuck his phone in the holster and called the station. "Todd, this is Gregg Lestrade. Do you still have everything from the Department store case?"

"Yes, I was just about to close it."

"Well don't. Make sure that nothing gets thrown out. We've got some new evidence. Call in everyone who hasn't gone on holiday yet. I'll meet you there in ... looks like two hours going by the traffic."

"Alright, but they aren't going to be happy about it."

"It doesn't matter if they're happy. Just get them in there."

"Happy Christmas."

"Yes, and a Happy Christmas to you as well. I'm off." Lestrade cut off the call. "So Sherlock, in this plan of yours is their any time for us to get a bite to eat?"

"Please Lestrade. There's a murderer on the loose."

"Even so, I'd be perfectly happy to find him after dinner."

"Which is why, so often, you miss catching the true assailant."

Lestrade looked over his shoulder. "Has Mary fallen asleep?"

"It appears so. I'm sure that she'll wake by the time that we get there."

They pulled in next to a police cruiser. Lestrade stepped out of the car and walked over to William Todd, a short dark-haired man in a brown suit wearing black-rimmed glasses. "The rooms have been cleaned." he said, "The manager was quite insistent that everything get washed. They've thrown out the trash, vacuumed the carpet. He even had someone wash the walls. There's nothing to be found in the dressing room."

"Do you still have the cake box?"

"Yes, we bagged it for forensics."

"Let me see it."

Todd passed a plastic bag over to Lestrade who glanced at the cake box inside of it and then gave it to Sherlock.

"Look, see the jagged edge here. This has obviously been cut. I don't know how I missed it before." He passed the bag back. "Hurry before the rest of the evidence is gone."

"But Sherlock... they've already cleaned the room."

Sherlock walked into the building. He glanced at the dressing room as he passed but continued on down the hall until he found the manager's office. Lestrade and Todd entered to find Sherlock on his hands and knees near the waste basket.

"This has been emptied as well, but if we are lucky...Aha!" Sherlock lifted a sliver of cardboard. "Look, If I am correct this is a piece of the box that was used to deceive Father Christmas."

Todd leaned forward with an empty plastic bag and took the sliver of colored paper. Sherlock then opened the drawer with his gloved hands and pulled out the scissors. "As I expected."

"What?"

"Left handed scissors. The jagged edge on the box was on the left side. That suggests that person who cut the box was left handed, and guess who is left handed. The manager, of course. Look at this room. Everything is laid out for someone who has a dominant left hand."

Todd frowned, "A sliver of paper and a pair of scissors are not enough to condemn a man."

"They are, however, enough evidence for us to call him in for questioning." Lestrade said as he turned toward a uniformed officer who stood behind them. "Keep everyone out of this room. We might be able to find more evidence. Now, let's go find the manager."

The three of them walked into the store proper. It was full of people bustling around, trying to make their last minute Christmas purchases. The three of them walked abreast down the aisle. Mary was sitting on the stage reading to a child. She looked up at them as they approached, but they were looking past her at the manager who stood beside the sports counter. When he saw them coming he walked behind the counter and pulled out a crossbow pistol and a knife. Sherlock picked up his pace, but the manager pointed it at him and fired. The bolt passed by his ear and hit a column causing one of the customers to scream.

"Stay back!" The manager called.

"Please put that down, "Lestrade said walking forward. "We just want to talk to you."

"I said stay back! Unless you want this bolt in your forehead."

"What did Father Christmas ever do to you," Sherlock asked.

"He took Candice. Charmed her away. Everything was his fault."

"So you killed him."

"Yes, and I'll kill you if you don't let me pass."

"There's no way that you can get out, Wood." Lestrade said, "We have people at all of the exits."

The manager pulled a very large knife out of his pocket then. "We'll see shall we." He walked forward then and reached for the child beside Mary.

Mary pushed his hand away. "Go to your mother, run!" she said. The frustrated manager grabbed Mary's hair and pulled hard so that she fell back on the stage hitting her head. Lestrade and Sherlock ran forward only to find a crossbow in their face.

"Stay back. This is one of our professional sports crossbows. In the states, this is used to hunt deer. I assure you that it can tear into your flesh just as easily."

"Let go of her."

"No," he said as he pulled Mary to her feet placing the knife at her neck. "She's coming with me."

The man walked backwards across the stage holding Mary at knife point. He passed through a door at the back of the stage. Lestrade, Sherlock and Todd rushed forward, but the door was locked. Sherlock bashed his arm against the door but it didn't budge.

Lestrade took Todd's radio from his belt and called. "We have a hostage situation. I need someone at all of the exits, and I need a special operations team with firearms."

Sherlock stepped back as Todd attacked the door with a cricket bat. A murderer was taking Mary away. For a brief moment he thought, "and if she dies, then I will have John." Then he shook his head banishing the evil thought. He pulled out his phone and punched in the number of Jazz's phone. Then he sent a text.

Lestrade was barking into the radio. Wood had switched to trying to pick the lock. Pointless, as they were already far into the building by now. If he pulled back his thoughts to imagine the entire building, he could see their progress in his head. How they would turn down the corridors. At that intersection they might bump into a crowd. Mary would slow him down. She wouldn't fight him, but he would have to pull her along. The exits on the ground level would all be watched by now. The doors would be blocked so the logical course would be...

Sherlock turned and rushed across the room to the stairs. He flew up to the top of the building, pushing open the door to the roof. The air was chill so he pulled up his coat collar. Moments later, he heard the sound of steps coming up. He waited beside the door. Rushing out and grabbing the man as soon as it opened only to find that he was holding onto Lestrade's coat.

"Sherlock, what are you doing?"

"I was waiting to ambush Wood. Why are you here?"

"I was trying to follow you. I noticed you tearing across the floor so I supposed that you had a lead."

"I was hoping to cut them off, but your loud footsteps surely will have alerted them that this exit is being watched. They must have taken another way. Sherlock slammed his fist against the door in anger."

"And I suppose THAT didn't alert anyone of where we are."

"They could be hiding anywhere in the building now! At least he's unlikely to kill her outright. The way that he killed Father Christmas. It was sneaky, non-confrontational. Not the M.O. of a cold blooded killer."

"Unfortunately, there you are wrong, Sherlock. When this started, I called for a team to go to Wood's flat to look for evidence. They found some. The body of one Candice Singer, strangled."

"And if he's killed one woman, he could kill again. We've got to find him Lestrade. We've got to find him and get Mary back alive."

End Runaway part 1