Anita, Lestrade, Donovan, and the boy's got out of a police car and started walking towards the front entrance of St. Aldate's school. There was a woman with a shock blanket wrapped around her leaning against another police car and blowing her nose.
"Miss Mackenzie, House Mistress. Go easy," Lestrade told Sherlock quietly. Lestrade stopped walking while Sherlock approached Miss Mackenzie.
"Miss Mackenzie, you're in charge of pupil welfare, yet you left this place wide open last night. Which are you: an idiot, a drunk, or a criminal?" Sherlock questioned, loudly and angrily. He grabbed the shock blanket off of her and she gasped.
"Now quickly, tell me!" Sherlock continued in the same tone. Anita glared at him, but knew what he was doing.
"All the doors and windows were properly bolted. No-one- not even me- went into their room last night. You have to believe me!" Miss Mackenzie replied, tearfully and cowering in terror. Sherlock's mean demeanor instantly melted away and he smiled reassuringly at Miss Mackenzie.
"I do. I just wanted you to speak quickly. Miss Mackenzie will need to breathe into a bag," Sherlock said and walked off. Anita patted Miss Mackenzie on the shoulder and apologized for Sherlock before chasing after him and the others.
"Six grand a term, you'd expect them to keep the kids safe for you. You said the other kids left on their holidays?" John questioned. Sherlock was looking through a cupboard beside one of the beds and Anita was on her knees and looking under the bed. She was technically on the clock, but Lestrade wasn't too strict when Sherlock came on cases, knowing he would drag Anita away anyways.
"They were the only two sleeping on this floor. Absolutely no sign of a break-in. The intruder must have been hidden inside some place," Lestrade reasoned as Sherlock picked up a lacrosse stick and got up on his feet, looking at it closely.
Anita moved from looking under the bed to the wooden trunk at the foot of the bed. Anita opened the lid and saw a large envelope with a wax seal on the back, which was broken like someone had already opened it. Anita's face scrunched up but she carried on. Feeling the package, Anita could tell it was a large hardcover book. After looking over the envelope again, Anita took the book out and flipped it over to look at the cover, Grimm's Fairy Tales. Sherlock looked over to see what Anita found, and she prompted the book up for him to see the cover as well. Sherlock took the book from her and riffled through the pages quickly.
"Show me where the brother slept," Sherlock ordered as he looked up from the book. Anita and the boys went to another, smaller dormitory and Sherlock looked around the room.
"The boy sleeps there every night, gazing at the only light source outside in the corridor. He'd recognize every shape, every outline, the silhouette of everyone who came to the door," Sherlock explained as he gestured to the bed.
"Okay, so..." Lestrade trailed off, not understanding why it was important. Anita took a step backwards, heading towards the door that they just came through.
"So someone approaches the door who he doesn't recognize, an intruder. Maybe he can even see the outline of a weapon," she explained as she stepped outside the door, pulling it until it almost closed. Anita then raised her hand and pointed her fingers like they were a gun, showing what an intruder might look like through the frosted glass.
"What would he do in the precious few seconds before they came into the room? How would he use them if not to cry out?" Sherlock questioned as Anita walked back into the room. Sherlock was still looking around the bed, searching the boy's possessions.
"This little boy; this particular little boy...who reads all of those spy books. What would he do?" Sherlock asked.
"He'd leave a sign?" Anita offered, though she wasn't too confident in her answer. Sherlock sniffed noisily and picked up a cricket bat and sniffed along its sides. Putting the bat down, he squatted and sniffed around the bedside table, then reached under the bed and picked up an almost empty glass bottle of linseed oil.
"Get Anderson," Sherlock ordered.
Not long afterwards, the room had been darkened as much as possible by closing the wooden shutter over the windows. Sherlock shone a ultraviolet light onto the wall beside the boy's bed where the words 'HELP US' was written, only visible in the UV light. Anita couldn't help the sinking feeling in her gut; notes always hurt her, especially from kids who didn't know any better.
"Linseed oil," Anita muttered and Sherlock hummed beside her as Anderson walked into the room.
"Not much use. Doesn't lead us to the kidnapper." Anita rolled her eyes at Anderson's comment.
"Brilliant, Anderson," Sherlock remarked.
"Really?" Anderson asked.
"Yes. Brilliant impression of an idiot. The floor," Sherlock replied as he pointed his light downwards to the wooden floorboards. There were several sets of, now illuminated, footprints of varying size leading towards the door. Sherlock slowly followed where they led.
"He made a trail for us! Clever boy," Anita commented, following after Sherlock.
"The boy was made to walk ahead of them," Sherlock stated.
"On, what, tiptoe?" John questioned.
"Indicates anxiety; a gun held to his head. The girl was pulled beside him, dragged sideways. He had his left arm cradled about her neck," said Sherlock as he continued to follow the footprints and then, a few yards along the corridor, the footprints stopped.
"That's the end of it. We don't know where they went from here. Tells us nothing after all," Anderson remarked as Sherlock stopped and turned to him.
"You're right, Anderson- nothing. Except his shoe size, his height, his gait, his walking pace," Sherlock listed off and reached the closest window and tore down the blackout material that had been stuck across it. Sunlight flooded back into the corridor and, after setting the light on the windowsill, Sherlock kneeled down and took out his wallet of tools and a small lidded plastic petri dish from his inside pocket. He set the dish on the floor, opening the wallet and chuckling contently. John and Anita shared a look before squatting beside him.
"Having fun, babe?" Anita asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Sherlock glanced at her briefly, not expecting the pet name. They never really talked about those. He wasn't complaining though. If he was being completely honest, he loved it.
"Starting to."
"Maybe don't do the smiling...kidnapped children?" John said and Sherlock lifted his head at this, then turned back to the floor. He scraped some of the dried linseed oil and floor wax loose with a small scalpel and then used tweezers to pick up the loosened pieces and put them into the petri dish.
Now Sherlock, John, and Anita were in a cab. The trio was heading towards St. Bart's, Sherlock needing to use some of their equipment or something. Anita was currently texting Lestrade, promising to update him as soon as she got any information. Sherlock glanced over her shoulder at her phone before looking away, figuring it was nothing of importance.
"But how did he get past the CCTV? If all the doors were locked-" John started to ask, but Anita cut him off, putting her phone away.
"He walked in when they weren't locked."
"But a stranger can't just walk into a school like that," said John, giving her a look.
"Anyone can walk in anywhere if they pick the right moment. Yesterday- end of term, parents milling around, chauffeurs, staff. What's one more stranger among that lot? He was waiting for them. All he had to do was find a place to hide," Sherlock explained. A few minutes later, Anita and the boys arrived at St. Bart's and were walking through a corridor when Molly, suddenly, came through.
"Molly!" Sherlock exclaimed.
"Oh, hello. I'm just going out," she said and Sherlock grabbed her shoulder and turned her back the way she came.
"No, you're not," he replied.
"I've got a lunch date," Molly argued. Anita smiled softly, sharing a look with John. When Sherlock and Anita first broke the news that they were dating, Molly was devastated. Molly wouldn't acknowledge Anita for about three days, before showing up at her office and apologizing profusely. Anita, feeling just as bad, helped set Molly up on at least five dates. None of them had worked out yet, but she held out some hope for Charlie, who Molly had a date with next week.
"Cancel it. You're having lunch with us," Sherlock said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of Quavers crisps.
"What?" Molly questioned.
"Need your help. It's one of your old boyfriends- we're trying to track him down. He's been a bit naughty!" Sherlock said as he reached the door at the end of the corridor, turning and offering a smile to Molly. John and Anita stopped and stared at him.
"It's Moriarty?" John questioned.
"Course it's Moriarty," Sherlock replied.
"Er, Jim actually wasn't even my boyfriend. We went out three times. I ended it," Molly interjected.
"Yes, and then he stole the Crown Jewels, broke into the Bank of England, and organized a prison break at Pentonville. For the sake of law and order, I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly," Sherlock said and Anita smacked his arm and glared at him, once again coming to Molly's defense. Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her and she raised an eyebrow at him. Sherlock deflated a bit as Molly and John looked between the two, bewildered.
Sherlock was, now, sitting at a bench in front of a microscope. John and Anita were standing at the other side of the bench. Anita's phone dinged again. She rolled her eyes but didn't make any moves to look at the text. Anita would bet the next five years of her life that it was Lestrade, pestering her. Yes, Anita was extremely fond of Lestrade but if he texted her one more time asking about the case she was going to kill him.
"Oil, Anita and John," Sherlock said as he opened the plastic petri dish and took out one of the samples with tweezers.
"The oil in the kidnapper's footprint- it'll lead us to Moriarty. All the chemical traces on his shoe have been preserved. The sole of the shoe is like a passport. If we're lucky we can see everything that he's been up to," Sherlock stated as he dropped the sample into a test tube, which had some liquid at the bottom. The fluid began to fizz. He suctioned up some of the liquid and dropped it on to a slide, then he looked at the slide under the microscope.
"I need that analysis," Sherlock said to Molly, who squeezed some liquid on to a glass dish and applied some litmus paper to it. The paper then turned blue.
"Alkaline," Molly told him.
"Thank you, Anita," Sherlock replied, absently.
"Molly," Molly corrected.
"Yes," Sherlock said, not bothering to look up, and Molly turned away unhappily. As much as Molly liked to think she was over Sherlock, now that he was in a relationship with someone she considered a friend, she wasn't. No matter how many dates Anita tried to set Molly up on, Molly just needed time.
After Sherlock tested four different components, he was testing another one and looking through the microscope again. Anita had gotten at least two more texts during this time and at this point she was one text away from stomping her phone on the ground.
"I...owe...you," Sherlock muttered as he worked. He turned his head and looked at a nearby computer screen.
"Glycerol molecule," he mumbled and sighed heavily as he struggled to identify the item.
"What are you?" Sherlock questioned himself as he looked back into the microscope again. Molly stood beside him, typing on to her laptop. Anita was getting bored, not being able to be much help. Shame she finished all her reports earlier in the day, it would've given her something to do.
"What did you mean, 'I owe you'?" Molly asked Sherlock. Anita stood up, figuring walking around might do something for her brain flow, and walked across the room to the other side of the bench. Sherlock raised his head and watched Anita cross the room, her sudden movements catching his attention.
"You said 'I owe you.' You were muttering it while you were working," Molly tried again.
"Nothing. Mental note," Sherlock lied, looking back at the microscope.
"You're a bit like my dad. He's dead...No, sorry," Molly said as she closed her eyes in embarrassment.
"Molly, please don't feel the need to make conversation. It's really not your area," Sherlock told her.
"When he was...dying, he was always cheerful; he was lovely- except when he thought no one could see. I saw him once when he looked sad. You look sad when you think they can't see you," Molly said, glancing over at John and Anita.
Sherlock's eyes lifted from the microscope and drifted towards Anita and John. The pair of them were looking through some papers on the other side of the lab, not having the slightest clue that Sherlock and Molly were talking about them. Anita shoved John lightly, both of them smiling at some joke Anita told. Sherlock's face subconsciously lifted into a small smile before he turned his head back to Molly.
"Are you okay?" she pushed, "And don't say you are because I know what that means, looking sad when you think on one can see you."
"But you can see me," he replied.
"I don't count. What I'm trying to say is that, if there's anything I can do, anything you need, anything at all, you can have me. No, I just mean...I mean if there's anything you need...it's fine," Molly said as she shook her head.
"What- what- what could I need from you?" Sherlock questioned.
"Nothing. I dunno. You could probably say 'thank you,' actually," Molly replied.
"Thank you," Sherlock said, hesitantly. He frowned and turned his head away. Molly had started to walk towards the door.
"I'm just gonna go and get some crisps. Do you want anything? It's okay, I know you don't."
"Well, actually, maybe I'll-" Sherlock tried to say, but Molly cut him off.
"I know you don't." Molly then turned and walked away.
On the other side of the lab, Anita and John were looking through the police photographs taken at the school. John found the one which had the envelope with the wax seal in it. Anita had been ranting about something completely random when she turned and saw the shocked look on John's face. Her brow furrowed and she set a hand on his shoulder.
"John?"
"This envelope that was in her trunk. There's another one," John stated, pointing at the photo in his hand.
"What?" Anita and Sherlock asked, as he heard John from where he was sitting.
"On our doorstep. Found it today," John explained as he pulled the envelope out of his pocket and looked at it.
"Yes and look at that," John pointed out and showed the other envelope to Anita, who was quick to notice the matching wax seals.
"Sherlock, take a look at this," Anita called to him as she brought the photo and envelope over to him. Sherlock took it from her and looked it over.
"Exactly the same seal," said John. Sherlock reached into the envelope and pulled out some of the brown dust.
"Breadcrumbs," Sherlock said.
"Uh-huh. It was there when I got back," John continued.
"A little trace of breadcrumbs; hardback copy of fairy tales," Sherlock said and Anita's shoulders slumped.
"Two children led into the forest by a wicked father follow a little trail of breadcrumbs. Have I ever mentioned my hatred for Hansel and Gretel?" Anita asked, sarcastically. The story scared her as a kid. There was an old lady on her street who always offered Anita candy as she walked home from school. That, added to the fact that three of the neighborhood boys had been kidnapped and never found, did not help Anita's dislike for the children's story.
"What sort of kidnapper leaves clues?" John asked, ignoring Anita's question.
"The sort that likes to boast; the sort that thinks it's all a game. He sat in our flat and said these exact words to me...every fairytale needs a good old fashioned villain. The fifth substance- it's part of the tale, the witch's house," Sherlock said as he looked through the microscope again.
"What?" John questioned.
"The glycerol molecule," Sherlock said as the final element in the sample became clear to him.
"PGPR!" he exclaimed.
"What's that?" asked John.
"It's used in making chocolate," Anita replied as Sherlock leapt to his feet and hurried out of the lab, John and Anita hot on his tail. Anita had a feeling Lestrade was finally going to get the lead he had been pestering her about for the last hour or so.
At Scotland Yard, Lestrade handed a sheet of paper to Sherlock as he led the trio into the department's main office. Anita was pulling her hair back into a ponytail, having a feeling that a lot of running was going to follow.
"This fax arrived an hour ago," Lestrade explained. Sherlock looked over the paper before handing it off to John. Anita looked over John's shoulder, her hands a bit preoccupied with holding up her hair. The paper read:
HURRY UP
THEY'RE
DYING!
"What have you got for us?" Lestrade questioned.
"Need to find a place in the city where all five of these things intersect," Sherlock said as he handed a different piece of paper to Lestrade.
"Chalk, asphalt, brick dust, vegetations...what the hell is this? Chocolate?" Lestrade clarified.
"I think we're looking for a disused sweet factory," Sherlock replied.
"We need to narrow that down. A sweet factory with asphalt?" Lestrade offered.
"No. No-no- no. Too general. Need something more specific. Chalk; chalky clay- that's a far thinner band of geology," Anita reasoned as Sherlock pulled up a map of London in his head and overlaid it with the names of the towns.
"Brick dust?" Lestrade asked.
"Building site. Bricks from the 1950s," Sherlock responded.
"There's thousands of building sites in London," Lestrade said as he rubbed his face in despair.
"I've got people out looking," Sherlock stated.
"So have I," replied Lestrade.
"Homeless network- faster than the police. Far more relaxed about taking bribes," Sherlock said and Anita faked a cough. Sherlock turned and winced slightly, realizing his mistake. John just shook his head at him. Then Sherlock's phone alerted him of a text, followed by several more text alerts. Sherlock grabbed his phone, giving Lestrade a triumphant look, while more messages poured in. Finally, one message caught Sherlock's attention.
"John, Anita," Sherlock said and he held the phone up to show the pair a close up picture of some purple flowers.
"Rhododendron ponticum. It matches," Sherlock said, and he went back to his mental maps and looked around places in London where those flowers would grow, as well as the other elements.
"Addlestone," Sherlock stated, having narrowed it down.
"What?" Lestrade questioned.
"There's a mile of disused factories between the river and the park. It matches everything," said Sherlock, who then turned and hurried out of the office. John and Anita chased after him. Lestrade turned to his team.
"Right, come on," he said, and Donovan hesitated.
"Come on!" Lestrade shouted, and she jumped and hurried to follow as well.
Anita, Sherlock, and John, along with several police officers, made it to Addlestone and entered the dark building. Anita looked around for a second, doing the mental math and calculations before taking control of the situation.
"You, look over there. Look everywhere. Please spread out. Right," Anita ordered, pointing people in certain directions. Lestrade and Anita nodded at each other before Lestrade led part of the group, including John and Sherlock, into another part of the factory.
Anita and her team, which included Donovan, went to the other side of the building. Anita looked around, sending people in certain directions for a while, not seeing anything of particular interest. Anita glanced to her right before something caught her eye. Anita moved closer and saw a little girl sitting on the ground with her brother's head in her lap. His eyes were closed, which sent Anita into a panic. The girl looked up at Anita, desperately.
"Hey! Over here!" Anita shouted, finally finding her voice. Anita heard the approaching footsteps of her coworkers as she stepped closer to the children.
"I've got you. You'll be just fine," Anita whispered to the little girl, reassuringly reaching a hand towards her.
Back at Scotland Yard, Sherlock was pacing outside an office while John and Anita were sitting nearby. The door to the office opened and Donovan and Lestrade walked out.
"Right, then. The professionals have finished. If the amateurs wanna go in and have their turn..." Donovan said sarcastically. Anita huffed, seeing as she had all the power in the world to fire Sally on the spot. Though, she was technically off the clock. Tomorrow, Anita thought.
"Now, remember, she's in shock and she's just seven years old, so anything you can do to-" Lestrade told Sherlock, giving him a serious look, but Sherlock finished Lestrade's sentence.
"Not be myself."
"Yeah. Might be helpful," Lestrade commented. Sherlock looked around at Anita and John before reaching up and unpopping the collar of his coat, folding it down flat. Anita gave him a reassuring smile. Sally opened the door and walked Sherlock, Anita, and John into the office. The little girl was sitting at a table, looking down at her lap. A female liaison officer was sitting beside her, stroking her arm reassuringly.
"Claudette, I-" Sherlock started to say, but the little girl looked up and screamed in terror.
"No-no, I know it's been hard for you-" Sherlock tried again but the girl kept screaming and scrambled away, pointing at him.
"Claudette, listen to me-" Sherlock said, but Lestrade grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the office.
"Out. Get out!" Lestrade ordered.
Shortly afterwards, Sherlock was standing at the window of another office, looking out into the night through the slats of the blinds. Anita was leaning against one of the walls, rubbing her temple. As much as Anita wanted to understand that the girl was under distress, Claudette was the exact reason she didn't want kids. The screaming would kill her.
"Makes no sense," John commented.
"The kid's traumatized. Something about Sherlock reminds her of the kidnapper," Lestrade reasoned.
"So what's she said?" Anita asked Donovan, who had been keeping a close eye on Claudette.
"Hasn't uttered another syllable."
"And the boy?" questioned John.
"No, he's unconscious; still in intensive care," Lestrade replied.
Unbeknownst to everyone else in the room, Sherlock saw the lights on the second floor of the building across the street come on. Three of the office windows had been spray painted with:
I O U
Seconds after the letters were displayed, the power was cut again.
"Well, don't let it get to you. I always feel like screaming when you walk into a room! In fact, so do most people," Lestrade joked then looked around to John, Sally, and Anita.
"Come on," he said, and he and John left the room. Anita walked over to Sherlock and grabbed his hand, pulling him slightly towards the door. She offered him another soft smile, to which he responded half-heartedly. Anita understood and she wasn't going to push.
"Brilliant work you did, finding those kids from just a footprint. It's really amazing," Sally commented. Anita shared a looked with Sherlock, both of them feeling like there was an underlying message in there somewhere.
"Thank you," Sherlock replied, now pulling Anita along, then the other way around.
"Unbelievable," Donovan said, pointedly. The couple stopped, glancing over at her, then carrying on.
Anita and Sherlock walked outside and John joined the two of them, then looked down the street. He raised his hand to hail the approaching taxi. Sherlock had, originally, taken Anita and his interlocked hands and shoved them into the pocket of his coat, but now he was pulling out their hands. He wasn't ready to let go yet, but that was clearly his next plan.
"You okay?" Anita asked as John looked at Sherlock with concern as well.
"Thinking," he replied as the cab pulled up to the curb.
"This is my cab. You two get the next one," Sherlock said, finally letting go of Anita's hand. Subconsciously, her hand chased after his, but she didn't try to stop him from letting go.
"Why?" John questioned.
"You might talk," he replied.
And Sherlock climbed into the cab, alone, leaving John and Anita to stare after his cab as it drove away. The two stood on the curb, waiting for another taxi to drive by. John turned to Anita and pointed a finger at her. Anita raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.
"Why do you hate Hansel and Gretel?" he asked, trying to fill the time. And he was curious.
"Oh, do I have a story for you," Anita replied, a smile working its way onto both of their faces.
author's note !
Welcome back my loves <3 SOooooooo so many people have recently discovered my book and i'm like- flabbergasted by this!! anyways, welcome all you new people we're so happy to have you here with us!! Also, I feel the need to mention that I may have to delay the release of the next book in the series for personal reasons but ill let you guys knew!! Have a good week folks!!