"I think it's obvious you are still angry with me" Sherlock commented, as John and Annie huddled beside him in the cab as they left Stoke Moran.
Annie didn't bother to reply, still hurt by his words and awed by John's tolerance of the detective's rudeness. It was amazing how often he had to put up with the other man's whims and complaints every time something failed to please Sherlock.
"And what gave you this impression?" she coldly replied.
"Don't reply, Sherlock. She's being sarcastic" John stopped him before he could make the tense situation even worse.
"This is ridiculous, John. Do you even know what constructive criticism is?"
"I fear in your case the critic overwhelms whatever advice you're trying to give, even if you're genuinely trying to help" the woman retorted, "How can you be so callous and cold with every single human being around you is beyond my comprehension"
"You get used to it" Sherlock shrugged, "Not that I mind what others think of me"
"But you care enough about John's opinion if you keep him around"
Sherlock didn't even bother to reply, but the other two occupants in the cab could see him pouting. Annie felt a bit of satisfaction, knowing she had managed to win an argument for once and John snickered, finally rejoicing the presence of someone with a tongue sharp enough to make his friend speechless.
As for Sherlock, the annoyed face was more a front put up to shield the interest at the quick thinking of a stranger, who had caught up on his unconventional way to express friendship with John.
It would be obvious for Lestrade, Mycroft, or Miss Hudson, already accustomed to his quirks, but he had spent not even a day with Miss Harrison and she had already formed an opinion on him, a fairly spot on one too.
"Sherlock, what is the next step?" John interrupted the sulking detective's thoughts, "Do you think we have enough for Lestrade to arrest Roylott?"
"Have you noticed the camp inside Stoke Moran's gardens? There is someone else in there and usually keeps away whenever a visitor comes by. Strange"
"I really can't see him giving space to strangers in his land" John commented, "He loathes the very idea of getting involved with someone else. Even Miss Stoner's presence irritates him"
"Now, I know who is the killer and how Miss Stoner has been killed, but to close the case I need something more. I suspect whatever deduction I made would be useless without evidence"
"Then we have to go back and stop him!" Annie exclaimed.
"Who?" Sherlock asked.
"Roylott! Probably he's getting rid of everything right now" John added.
"Oh, you're so naïve, John. And you, Miss Harrison, don't take so seriously what our dear doctor says. I never told you Roylott was the killer"
The pair stared at the knowing smirk painted on the detective's lips as he enjoyed their astonishment.
There was nothing he loved more than surprising others with sudden twists and showing off his mind-blowing knowledge of... literally anything on this earth as long as it mattered to solve a case.
"Then who are you talking about?"
"This is exactly why I need to do a little research before calling Lestrade" the detective shrugged, "John, I need the flat tonight, find another place to sleep, please. I'll have a guest"
"Mr. Holmes!" Annie gasped in shock, "This is not the time to spend the night with your girlfriend! A criminal is on the loose..."
"Don't misunderstand, Miss Annie. I have no interest in women or relationships. The only thing that matters for me is my work" he snapped as if the mention of it was blasphemy, "The guest I'm receiving will be of crucial importance for this case"
Luckily for him, he wasn't a particularly religious man, because lying was still one of his best skills.
"Maybe it would be better for you to come clean with my brother and find a good deal for yourself before Mycroft knocks at your door"
In front of him, Joseph Harrison was copiously sweating in fear. His appearance reflected the chaos in which he had fallen after Percy's murder.
Bags under his eyes, ruffled hair, and a distinctive smell of cheap soap told him he had found a good spot to hide in London, where he could keep an eye on the treaty he had left hidden somewhere as he ran from Mycroft, but the anxiety was enough to miss some sleep.
He could see some faint resemblance to Annie as he sat nervously on the chair, but Sherlock quickly dismissed that fact.
It was completely useless for his purpose.
"What have you told my sister? Does Annie know about me?"
"I told her exactly what happened and how you did it, but I still can't understand why you felt the need to ruin both your lives"
"I'm sure you can imagine why I did it. I would never hurt willingly my sister and Percy was a good person, but I needed to sell the treaty to save my life!"
"This is a lame excuse" Sherlock sighed, "I hoped to see something more exciting in this murder, but you revealed it to be an annoyance. I'll do you a favor and not mention any of this to Miss Annie, Mycroft is waiting for you outside"
"Bastard!" Joseph screamed, rushing to the window just in time to see the older Holmes climbing out of his black car.
"You killed a man and now you're labeled as a traitor, there's no way to escape from him, but you already knew it" Sherlock commented, as two enormous men in black suits dragged Joseph out of the door.
The detective followed the group and joined Mycroft on the curb, absently wondering if they would ever be able to see the older Harrison again.
"I suppose you'll want an update on his case as soon as the court decides his punishment"
"Not really. But his sister will ask to meet him. Allow them to see each other one last time and then you can do whatever you want with him. You still need to find the treaty, after all, use it to your advantage"
"Do you think she will forgive him?"
"I don't know. Feelings work in strange ways" Sherlock shrugged, "Not something I can understand"
Mycroft let out a dry chuckle before leaving with his men as his little brother stayed in the street. He was curious to see how he would deal with the emotional whiplash Miss Annie Harrison was about to unleash upon him.
A woman so sensible was bound to make trouble for them all.
For Sherlock, the night was far from being over. He still had to follow a small idea he had had about the case of the viper and so little time to find the camp he saw in the gardens of Stoke Moran.