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Chapter 9 - A Scandal in Belgravia

The next morning, Sherlock, fully recovered, John, and I sit at the table in the living room. Sherlock reads a newspaper as Mycroft stands not far away.

“The photographs are perfectly safe.” Sherlock says.

“In the hands of a fugitive sex worker.” Mycroft points out.

“She’s not interested in blackmail. She never has. For some reason, she wants protection.” I say.

“I take it you’ve stood down the police investigation into the shooting at her house?” Sherlock asks Mycroft.

“How can we do anything while she has the photographs? Our hands are tied.”

“She’d applaud you for your choice of words.” Sherlock says. “You see how this works; that camera phone is her ‘get out of jail free’ card. You have to leave her alone. Treat her like royalty, Mycroft.”

“Though not the way she treats royalty.” John adds, looking at Mycroft and smiling at him sarcastically. Mycroft smiles back humorlessly.

Suddenly the sound of an orgasmic woman sighing sounds throughout the room. John, Mycroft, and I simultaneously frown.

“What the hell…?” I look at Sherlock, who has had no reaction to it.

“Text.” Sherlock says, attempting to look calm.

“But what was that noise?” John asks as Sherlock stands and walks over to pick up the phone near him. He glances through the text.

“You know there were other people after her too, Mycroft. Before you sent John and I in there? CIA-trained killers, at an excellent guess.” Sherlock says, and sits back down at the table as John looks at Mycroft.

“Yeah, thanks for that, Mycroft.” John says sarcastically.

Mrs. Hudson walks in from the kitchen, carrying a plate of breakfast. She sets in down on the table in front of Sherlock.

“It’s a disgrace, sending your little brother into danger like that. Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes.” Mrs. Hudson says sternly.

“Oh, shut up, Mrs. Hudson.” Mycroft says.

“Mycroft!” The three of us simultaneously shout angrily at him. Mycroft looks at us, who glare at him. He cringes and looks at Mrs. Hudson.

“Apologies.” He says to her.

“Thank you.” She says.

“Though do, in fact, shut up.” Sherlock says, and his phone sounds the same sigh as before.

“Ooh, it’s a bit rude, that noise, isn’t it?” Mrs. Hudson says as Sherlock reads the text.

“There’s nothing you can do and nothing she will do as far as I can see.”

“I can put maximum surveillance on her.” Mycroft suggests.

“Why bother? You can follow her on Twitter. I believe her username is ‘TheWhipHand’.”

“Yes, most amusing.” Mycroft says. Suddenly his phone rings and takes it out from his pocket. “’Scuse me.” He says, walking out into the hall. “Hello.”

Sherlock and I both watch him leave. I notice Sherlock frown suspiciously and John also looks at him.

“Why does your phone make that noise?” He asks him.

“What noise?” Sherlock asks.

“That noise.” John says.

“The one it just made.”