The Angel And The Devil

18

Our feet squeak along the corridors, the bright lights reflecting on the polished green floor. My nerves cling to my throat and I can nearly breath.
"Dad?" I say as I push open the heavy fire door. He is alone behind a bench bouncing alone.
"Dad."
"Thinking."
"Cheers." I say and take a seat. There is the FUTT of the rubber ball bouncing but apart from that quiet. Not silence, like silence but not completely quiet.
"Got your message." Uncle John walks in. Both Dad and I grunt and the bouncing stops.
"The computer code is key to this. If we find it, we can use it - beat Moriarty at his own game." He says fiddling with the ball.
"What d'you mean, "use it"?"
"He used it to create a false identity, so we can use it to break into the records and destroy Richard Brook." Dad deviates.
"And bring back Jim Moriarty again." Dad nods minutely.
"Somewhere in 221B, somewhere - on the day of the verdict - he left it hidden." He turns and slams his hands on the bench deep in thought. Uncle John stands beside him.
"Uh-Hu.What did he touch?"
"An apple. Nothing else. " Dad says dismissively.
"Did he write anything down?"
"No." Responds dad in monotone.
Uncle John hisses and walks across the lab, trying to consentrst. Dad repetitively drums his fingers on the bench. His eyes flicker with life and he straightened up, retappong the pattern. He flicks open his phone and types something out. Then closes his eyes in thought.
"Dad can I go home."
"Mind palace."
"Where am I meant to sleep?"
"You were up till 3:22 am texting Will I'm sure you can manage a couple of days without rest." Spits Dad, his eyes still closed.
"What he means is I have a blanket and you can use it." Uncle John says and through a me the patchwork blanket. I curl up on the bench and fall into  a sleep.