Chapter 23

Sherlock had gotten his next clue, he and John were now examining the abandoned car.

"Car was hired by Ian Monkford, he told his wife he was going away on a business trip, but he never arrived," Lestrade told them.

"Get a sample sent to the lab," Sherlock said to Lestrade, who nodded and walked off.

Sherlock went up to Mrs. Monkford, "Excuse me, Mrs. Monkford?" He asked.

"Yes?" She asked, "Sorry, I've already spoken to the police," She said with confusion.

"No, we're not from the police, we're-"

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock interjected, "Very old friend of your husband's, we... grew up together."

"I'm sorry who?" She asked.

"You're not being sincere enough Sherlock, if you believe it so will they," Katherine spoke.

Sherlock summoned some tears to his eyes and put a sad, wistful smile on his face.

"That's better."

"Oh, he must have done. This is ... this is horrible, isn't it?" Sherlock asked, "I mean, I just can't believe it. I only saw him the other day. Same old Ian, not a care in the world."

"My husband has been depressed for months. Who are you?" She asked, beginning to get angry.

"You're about to lose her Sherlock."

"Really strange that he hired a car. Why would he do that? It's a bit suspicious, isn't it?" Sherlock asked.

"You're looking less and less upset Sherlock," Katherine warned.

"No, it isn't! He forgot to renew the tax on the car, that's all!" She cried.

"Oh, well, that was Ian! That was Ian all over!" Sherlock said.

"No it wasn't!" She nearly shouted.

"Wasn't it? Interesting." Sherlock completely dropped his act and walked away.

"Needs work."

"Shut up," Sherlock muttered.

Several Hours Later...

John, Lestrade and Sherlock were examining the car again in Scotland Yard.

"The clue's in the name," Sherlock repeated, "Janus Cars."

"The god with two faces," John said.

"Who else do you know who has two faces? Or did I have three? I can never remember," Katherine spoke to Sherlock.

Sherlock ignored her, "Exactly."

After explaining the case to John and Lestrade, Sherlock posted his conclusion on his blog. Almost immediately the pink phone began to ring, and the victim told them where to find him.

Sherlock and John then went out for breakfast.

"So is it him then? Moriarty?" John asked.

"Possibly," Sherlock said.

John quirked an eyebrow, "Possibly? You think it could be someone else?"

"My uncle is a very dangerous man."

"I'm fielding some other theories," Sherlock said vaguely.

Sherlock had just cracked the Connie Prince case, it was fairly simple once he got into it.

"Raoul de Santos is your killer, Kenny Prince's houseboy. The second autopsy shows it wasn't tetanus that poisoned Connie Prince, it was Batrachotoxin."

"Batrachotoxin?" Lestrade asked, "Isn't that what Katherine was poisoned with?"

"Who did poison me Sherlock? I don't think you ever found out?" Katherine's voice taunted him.

"Yes, Raoul infused it into her botox injections," Sherlock continued to explain. He was getting better at keeping Katherine out of his head. "Among other things, Raoul was employed to give Connie her botox injections."

Lestrade looked at Sherlock with uncertainty, "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, make the arrests."

John pulled Sherlock to the side, "Sherlock, how long have you known about this?"

"Well, this was a simple one, and the bomber seems to like the use of this particular poison so-"

"No Sherlock, I mean- the woman, the old woman has been there this whole time!" John exclaimed.

"John, I knew I was right, and I knew the bomber wouldn't kill her unless we ran out of time or I got it wrong. He gave us twelve hours, it was enough time for me to get on with other things. Can't you see?! We're one up on him!" Sherlock cried.

*Flashback*

"Catherine," Magnussen began.

"Yes, uncle?" She responded lifelessly. It was easier to do the things he told her to when her emotions were mainly non-existent.

"I've received a call asking for your assistance with a game."

"A game?" Catherine asked.

"Yes, one for Sherlock Holmes," He explained, "It's being put on by Moriarty, I hope that working with him and his people won't be a problem?" He asked. He was testing her with this, and she would not disappoint.

"No, it won't," She replied robotically.

"Good."

James and Sebastian were sitting on one side of the car, and Catherine on the other. She had been completely silent and had only spoken to them when they had asked her a direct question. It was like she was a completely different person, James admired that ability, Seb was sickened by it.

They were on their way to set up the next piece of Sherlock's puzzle when Sebastian had had enough.

"Katherine, what is happening with you?" He demanded, "You're pale, you have bruises all over you, you haven't spoken a word. Where have you been?" Catherine didn't even turn to look at him and kept her gaze out the window. "Katherine... let me help you..." Nothing... but then, the slightest shake of the head. It was almost unnoticeable, but the intent was clear, you can't help me.

Lestrade called Sherlock, they had found a body right where Sherlock had told them to look.

Sherlock raced down to the riverside with John in tow, there was something special about this one, it was the last pip. The last puzzle. Sherlock was not disappointed.

"He's been dead for about 24 hours," John appraised, by looking at him, "Did he drown?"

Sherlock shook his head, "No, you can't see it, you aren't close enough, but he bled to death. There are very deep, very fine incisions all over his body, they look like they were caused by a-" Butterfly knife.

"Funny, I have those, they match too," Katherine's voice spoke.

"By a what?" John asked. Sherlock was still in his head.

"Pretty good with them too."

"By a... knife, by a knife," Sherlock said.

"You said incisions, not cuts?" Greg asked.

"No, this was precise, this was..."

"I kill people Sherlock, it's what I do."

"...surgery." John finished his thought.

"Yes," Sherlock said.

"So who did this?"

"Lucky for you, I know the answer to that, it was one of the most dangerous assassins in the world, some would argue the most dangerous," Sherlock told them.

"Damn right I'm the most dangerous, give me some credit Sherlock."

"So this was a hit then?" Lestrade asked.

"Definitely," Sherlock confirmed. He then laid out how it connected to the Vermeer, "There's one more thing though, the killer, she must've been interrupted, otherwise she wouldn't have left any evidence for us to find. She ripped the badge off, meaning that he worked somewhere recognizable."

"She?" John asked with confusion.

Sherlock cursed himself, "Watch it man! You don't want George to find out do you?"

"They, did I say she?" Sherlock said quickly and moved on. He held up a ball of ticket stubs, "I found this in his pockets, ticket stubs. He worked in a museum or gallery. Did a quick check, the Hickman Gallery has reported one of its attendants as missing."

"Poor sod."

*Flashback*

Katherine was unbuttoning the top of the security guard's shirt, she was going to take his clothes so that Sherlock would have less to work off, but then she heard the sounds of a car coming towards her in the distance.

She heaved him partially up on the side of a bridge, and then the rest of the way. She ripped the badge off the pocket of his shirt before pushing him completely over the edge of the bridge. There was a large splash. Katherine took off the gloves she was wearing and pulled out her phone, she texted:

"Woodbridge dead, ~CAM"

"Good, I'm concerned he may have told someone, further investigation needed, ~JM"

"On it, ~CAM"