Katie Holmes

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Kaitlyn wasn't sure her eyes would ever adjust back to light. It was so dark in her cell that she could hardly see her own legs. For a few minutes each day there was more light, when Moriarty came in to fruitlessly interrogate her.

The light was sudden, meant to stun her and keep her head from being clear. But she could hear the footfalls just before the light turned on, and closed her eyes when it suddenly flooded the room. But she forced herself to get used to it as quickly as possible, to assess the room and her position as well as she could.

After four days she had located the camera in the corner of the room, but didn't look at it. If Moriarty knew that she was aware of it, any hope of getting a message to her father was dead. She had to wait until he sent another message to him.

"Have you brought me anything to drink today? I'm parched." She smiled when a tray came in, a huge man behind it. He stood with his hands on her shoulders as another smaller man freed her hands so she could eat. When she had finished, her hands were rebound (eyes covered of course) and the two men left, leaving Moriarty in the corner.

"Efficient system," she commented.

"You know what I want, Kaitlyn." She stared straight ahead at the wall, tightening her jaw. The dried blood remaining on her cheek from the hit four days ago cracked and stretched her skin. "There will be consequences if you don't cooperate."

"Like disappearing forever?"

He smiled. "You believe that, don't you?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Believe what?"

"That I was the reason for your mother's disappearance." He walked toward her and she stared defiantly at him.

"Of course you were."

"But Kaitlyn, I wasn't. Sherlock lied to you. She didn't want to leave him, but after three years, she got so tired of you that she left. Why else would she have left you behind?"

"Because you made her disappear."

He laughed. "Sherlock loved Danika, didn't he?" She didn't respond. "So if she went missing, you would expect him to look for her, and for me. But you remember." He leaned down beside her from the back of the chair. "What did he do?"

He stopped talking. He stopped taking cases. He wouldn't touch or look at me for a month. He sent me to Mycroft. He told John to leave him alone. He reacted like a heartbroken man.

Kaitlyn's nostrils flared. He was getting her to question her father. "He said you took her; he had no reason to lie to me. You're the liar."

"Believe what you want, Kaitlyn, but your mother couldn't stand you. Now, back to the topic at hand."

She stared straight ahead again and said nothing.

"We wouldn't want your friends to suffer for your silence, would we?"

The pieces clicked. Why he targeted Erika-so she would come to stay with Kaitlyn, so Kaitlyn's last moments with her family would be spent with her, making them closer. Showing that he could get to her, and would.

Kaitlyn's blood spiked. He was bringing an eight-year-old girl into this mess! She was a child! "If you hurt her, I will hurt you thrice as badly."

"Answer my questions and she needn't be hurt."

She huffed. How dare he do this. How dare he force on her the choice of hurting Erika or destroying her family. "I will answer nothing, and you will not touch Erika Watson."

"We'll see." He left the room, and the lights dimmed again. Kaitlyn closed her eyes, trying to retreat to her mind palace. But her situation was too dire for her to feel safe enough to fully focus on her thoughts, so it was nearly impossible.

Hurt Erika...hurt everyone. Lose-lose situation. She had to think her way out. If she couldn't find an answer by the next time he came, she decided, she would find a way to contact her dad and tell him what was going on.

~

Sherlock snapped Funeral in Berlin shut for the twelfth time in four days and nearly chucked it across the room. There was nothing amiss from the original, nothing highlighted, marked, dog-eared, bookmarked. No notes in the margins. It seemed new and unopened.

"Let me see it," said William.

"There's nothing in it other than words. No clues."

"And you're sure it isn't Kat's?" He turned it over in his hands, running his fingers over the cover and flipping quickly through the pages. Sherlock saw and nabbed it back. "Hey!"

"Be quiet." Letting the hard covers fall to either side, Sherlock held the pages in his right hand and flipped them to his left. The page numbers in the corners increased steadily, hitting 150 and continuing until he saw something strange. A page marked 1120. What did 1120 mean? It couldn't have been the page number; the numbers before and after were 174 and 176.

The rest of the page was normal; it was just that one marking at the bottom of the page. Maybe the year 1120 held some significance?

A quick Internet seach found that the only thing of significance to England that had happened was the son of King Henry I had died. His ship had wrecked in the English Channel, near what was now called Portsmouth. The city sounded familiar...

"John, what do you know about Portsmouth?"

John frowned. "Nothing. Uh, isn't that where she was born though?"

"Who?"

He was trying to keep from saying her name, but if Sherlock was paying so little attention..."Danika."

Sherlock merely nodded and turned back to the screen. "King Henry I's son died near Portsmouth in 1120."

William stood up. "Let's go then. It's less than sixty miles south."

Sherlock closed his computer and stood up. "Couldn't agree more."