Ms. Wenceslas felt a chill as she got down to the car and she looked around with the feeling of being watched. She ran home with a touch of fear. She knew that Moriarty was dead, but still feared receiving a punishment for having spoken to the police. Fear weighed a lot more than guilt. The fear of being caught was what made she first decide to speak.
She opened the door feeling a little safer, but she had no time to lock it before she felt fingers wrapped in latex pressing against her lips. Sherlock knew it would be better to wait for her at the house, most people are less careful when entering their homes. Only took him a few seconds to insert the needle, and then he had an unconscious body to carry.
- You estimated the weight wrongly, the dose is too small. - John said.
- We still have at least a couple hours; I won't risk a higher dose. I want her to know what caused her death. - Sherlock replied while depositing his victim on the floor.
He ran to the second floor. His plan was to fake an escape, luckily he quickly found a suitcase. Having worked in two cases in which the killer was caught for being careless when choosing clothe, he was careful to select clothing that was appropriate for the same climate and that could be used together. He closed the bag and ran to the office. There was a safe behind a picture, and finding the password in the first attempt was as easy as finding the safe.
- It's been ten minutes! Why are you taking so long? We won't arrive on time. - John complained, sitting on the table.
- When was the last time you prepared the suitcase of a woman? It's the hardest part of the plan, believe me. – He said as he putted the money in the suitcase.
He returned to the room as fast as he could. He needed at least an hour to get to the warehouse, with a good traffic. He opened the door carefully, looking around. Luckily, no one was nearby. He didn't planned as well as he wished, but the trial didn't took much. He was still surprised by the London police; he hadn't found a single police car around.
He held his victim in his lap and nearly dropped her when he closed the door. He chose to walk calmly to draw less attention.
- I want to sit in front! - John shouted running after them.
Sherlock smiled. With a single comment, John was able to cheer him up. He putted her in the back seat of her own car. He could no longer rely on taxis; however, buying a car now would seem very suspicious.
He had to try five times before he could start the car. For years he hasn't drove and he was almost sure that his license was expired. Luckily the streets were almost empty; there wasn't much movement in that part of town in the middle of the night. He accelerated as much as he could and luckily the car was powerful. It didn't took him long to get used to the speed, though he had difficulties to keep on road.
- We must run. - John said. - The effect should pass within half an hour and there are still almost sixty miles.
- This car doesn't make more than one hundred miles per hour, and that's faster than I've ever drove. Hopefully the sedative's aftereffect will be strong enough to leave her stunned for other ten or twenty minutes.
Sherlock was running against the clock. Not just he needed to get to the warehouse to secure their victim, but he also needed a new dose. Adrenaline could hardly fight the lethargy and fatigue caused by the lack of drugs. He almost flipped the car when braked sharply in front of the warehouse.
- She is waking up! - John shouted. - We have two minutes at most. We need to tie her soon; we don't want her to flee running. In ten minutes she could get help, if she goes in the right direction.
- I know, I know! - Sherlock said as he opened the rear door.
Ms. Wenceslas was waking up, but wasn't able to fight off the bowlines. He carried her inside quickly, and before she was fully awake, Sherlock had tied it on the table he had prepared. She was afraid, and her heart was racing.
- I hope you will listen to me the next time I say we need more sedatives. - John said a bit breathlessly.
Sherlock leaned against the wall and began to laugh. He didn't care when he saw the sheer terror of his victim get mixed with surprise and indignation. To what purpose served revenge if he couldn't use it to get a little peace of mind?
- I know you! You that bloody detective who discovered the forgery and ruined my career! – She cried while forcing the moorings. - What do you want from me?
Suddenly, Sherlock stopped laughing and took a serious stance. For the first time he noticed that he had forgot the gag. How could he be so distracted? He ran towards the bed and leaned over Miss. Wenceslas, to whisper in her ear.
- I want you to die slowly and suffer as much as possible. - Whispered with certain aggressiveness. - But before you will tell me everything you know about Moriarty.
He walked away as quickly as he had approached. His revenge would have to wait, he needed another shot immediately.
- We can take care of it later, make her shut up. - John said pointing to a piece of cloth that was on the table.
She didn't resist the gag, as if she knew her fate was sealed. She gave in to the stress and fainted.
And Sherlock gave in to his addiction with another shot of cocaine. He could take a couple more hours before starting to work. He slipped up lying on the floor, and allowed the drug to take care of your mind.
- My dear John, we're really doing the right thing? - Asked with his eyes already out of focus.
- You said that there are no heroes and that if there were you wouldn't be one. - John said gently stroking Sherlock's hair. - We can't be satisfied by just doing the right thing. We do what we need to do, regardless of what is right. Relax, you'll need your energy. I promise you that I'll be here when you wake up.