"Sherlock, you know the routine," Mycroft spoke quickly and quietly. "Are you captive?"

"Does Mummy know you still try to play nursemaid to me?"

At the other end of the phone Mycroft heaved a gusty sigh of relief.

Giving him a succinct briefing of everything that had happened since the fateful night he had been taken by Barrymore, Sherlock faltered as he reached the part about Anthea's treachery, but his brother had learned of it from Reader and Drury.

"I understand your new friend despatched her."

Sherlock glanced at John.

"He had no choice Mycroft, it was her or us. Barrymore turned up minutes after we left."

There was a pause as the elder Holmes brother thought for a moment.

"I'll arrange for a car to pick you up and bring you here…."

"No!"

John jumped as Sherlock yelled into the phone.

"I have a lab set up here, everything I could possibly need, as well as my notes and some of the samples that Mike had been keeping for me." Sherlock explained hurriedly. "I'm safe here, and I can work undisturbed."

"How can you be sure that Watson didn't save you for his own ends? What if he plans to take the drugs and formulas from you?

"But …."

"I'm sorry Sherlock; your Doctor Watson is too good to believe!"