Sherlock looked at the empty package of magnesium oxide a little angry. He almost didn't have enough material to get rid of the body of his third victim. It had been a hectic week, the owner of the fake car rental knew someone who had a little bit of information about Moriarty. Almost choking on his own blood, the forger of documents and Moriaty cousin gave them a very valuable clue. "He wasn't the true genius. Look for the teacher..." he whispered almost inaudibly before dying. Sherlock cursed himself for not managing to keep him alive for a few more minutes.
- We need more magnesium oxide. - said John, who was sitting on the table covered in blood and moving his legs absently, as if oblivious to the body being dissolved in front of him.
- No, is very suspicious. We have to think in another way. – he said, sitting beside his friend.
- An acid, maybe? You could produce it in your mini-lab, also known as our kitchen. – he suggested, laughing at his last sentence.
Sherlock thought for a moment, pondering all chemical formulas he knew that could be able to dissolve a body. Some need a lot of fancy equipment to be produced, other rare or too suspicious to be bought in bulk ingredients. And even if he could produce them, he would need to leave the body completely submerged for at least a day, maybe two. No, he couldn't use acid, he concluded nodding.
- Impossible, too suspicions. I was thinking of dismemberment, make the victims become unrecognizable. But how could we get rid of the parts? The Thames is too risky, someone might see us.
His madness had come to the point that he didn't think that anyone else could see his friend. He no longer occasionally remembered that he existed only in his head. This John was now real, even more real than anything else in his life. His conscience didn't bother him as much as before. He was convinced that killing people as bad wasn't in any way wrong. Sometimes he felt a certain twinge inside his head, as if there was something he wasn't thinking about. But John always knew what to say when that happened.
- What if we used Molly? She could get false death certificates. - John suggested.
- It's too risky to let anyone know what we do. She seems too nice to accept to cover up murders. We would have to find a way to make it so that she wouldn't know what is happening.
- You can say that the parts were bought on the black market. She might not be willing to cover up murders, but she won't mind too much covering up a simple smuggling, not if you ask the right way.
Sherlock sat beside him on the stretcher, and spend a few seconds staring at the trench that he had just covered.
- What do you mean? – he finally asked.
- Sherlock. - John said taking his hand and looking directly into his eyes. - You know what I mean. She is a little innocent and gullible girl, not to mention the fact that she is madly in love with you. Flirt a little, call her out on a date. I bet that if after dinner you asked her to kill someone, she would do it without thinking twice.
Sherlock turned away indignant, almost falling off the gurney and looking at John with disgust.
- John! You want me ... How can you ask me that? Do you want ... you want me to prostitute myself for a savourless coroner?! I want to vomit just by thinking about dating her. I wpuld prefer to invade Lestrade's house right now and tell him what we're doing than having to touch her.
- Calm down! – he said raising his hands. - What are you thinking? I'm not asking you to sleep with her or anything, just act like you're interested. Blink a bit, hold her hands, compliment her hair or something, and then ask her to get rid of parts. - and smiling, he added. – Don't worry, I won't let her abuse you.
A bit reluctantly, he eventually accepted that it was a good idea. Unfortunately, he had to make that sacrifice.
- Let's wait until we have another body before taking drastic measures. Meanwhile, we need to find out everything we can about the teacher.
- If you had been more careful, we would have more information. We can look for some other relative of Moriarty, someone must know something. We won't kill everyone, but we may murder a few more of Moriarty's relatives.
Sherlock was a bit annoyed to hear John criticizing him in that way, but he decided to say nothing. The truth is that John was right, he had lost an opportunity and couldn't afford to do that again.
- We can continue this discussion tomorrow, my cocaine ended and I need to purify a little more on my mini-lab.
John got up with a jump.
- Can I drive? – he asked excited.
A few days ago, Mycroft decided to give a car for his brother, to always know where he was. Of course Sherlock took only a few seconds to disable all seven GPS trackers his dear brother installed.
- Okay. Just try not to hit anyone, please. As much as I like to annoy Mycroft, I think it can raise many uncomfortable questions.
- I promise to be careful.
And so they left. Since the human mind is fascinating, Sherlock went home believing that John was driving. There was no longer any difference between reality and hallucinations. And he didn't care about that.
It couldn't continue for too long, his body already showed signs of exhaustion by stress and by drug abuse. They needed to finish the entire operation soon, at risk of failing in their mission.