It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

65 - Set-Up

She gulped, gave out a shaky breath, turned away and rubbed her hands over her watering eyes. Rita couldn't see or hear her. The perfume was gone. Sherlock wouldn't know anything bad would happen unless he was right outside the room which she prayed he was. But other than that, she was truly on her own.

The door opened again, she forced a smile as she hurried out. Gray was sat on the bed and he patted the space beside him.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look upset."

"I - I - I'm fine. Where were we?" She sat a little way away from him.

He slid closer, "I believe we were getting to the good part.

"Then let's carry on getting there then." As frightened as she was, she placed a hand on his cheek.

"Fine by me Miss Pine."

She froze. She swallowed. She blinked. And she knew deep down that he already knew.

*  *  *  *  *  *

As Simon Sandborn turned the corner, away from room three-oh-nine, he ran into Sherlock. He paused, recognition clear as day in his deep blue eyes.

"You're the inspector, aren't you?"

Calm as ever, Sherlock nodded, "Yes, Detective Inspector Lestrade."

"I was hoping I'd catch you. I wanted to mention something suspicious I saw yesterday. Can we talk elsewhere?"

"I - " Sherlock's eyes gazed behind Simon at the his cabin door. Something in his gut turned. This didn't feel right, "Yes. Yes, we can."

"Perfect, come along then, I don't want to say it where just anyone can walk past."

"Yes, yes, of course." Sherlock nodded, following after the Sandborn as he began to head away.

Simon was calm. An air of arrogance surrounded him. That recognition his eyes didn’t sit well with Sherlock. It was like he recognised him more than the supposed Inspector Lestrade but as himself.

"You see," Simon began quietly as Sherlock joined him by his side, looking at him analytically, "A woman took a friend of mine, Daniel Silva, to their room last night. I haven't seen him around - is he okay? Because there are rumours that there were murders."

Aside from the fact that his information and question didn't match what had actually happened, as they stopped, just by the cleaner's cupboard, Sherlock observed the just-about visible imprint of a gun in Simon's inside blazer pocket. This wasn't a small discussion - this was an ambush.

"What do you think, Mr Holmes?" Simon tried to get his attention again.

Sherlock blinked. Processed. He wasn't called Lestrade but Holmes. Simon knew and if Simon knew then Grayson did too.

"I think we both know what happened to him, Mr Sandborn." There was no point in hiding it if he already knew but he could still disarm him.

"Good. That's good. Glad we understand what's about to happen then, Mr Holmes." Simon nodded.

"Yes..."

There was brief grace period. Both men stared each other down but neither moved yet. Sherlock was in half a mind to run rather than to disarm but then he couldn't get to Elizabeth. He had to stay close by so disarm and incapacitate would have to be his plan.

Simon started, moved his hand swiftly into his blazer, revealing the gun he carried without a silencer. Didn't he mind people hearing a gunshot?

Sherlock's hand was already on its way to block the gun, directing it towards the wall behind him. What the detective failed to notice in this adrenaline-fueled moment was that Simon, in his other hand, had readied a knife so that when his gun was pushed away, he could swing back the blade into Sherlock.