Moriarty's Musician

The Master Blackmailer, Part 5

Moriarty watched Annabelle's profile as they drove through the narrow dirt roads.

She put her elbow on the car's window ledge and leaned her head on her hand, wondering how she would make her escape. After all, she said she'd go willingly, but she didn't say for how long. She could feel his eyes on her, but she stubbornly refused to acknowledge him. She couldn't forget the sight of Nicky bent over in pain from Moriarty's punch to his stomach.

"Please stop staring at me."

"Why?"

"Because I told you to stop!" Annabelle glared at him.

"And I told you to stay away from Byron."

Her eyes continued to flash daggers at him. "I'm not a child, and you don't own me, so where the hell do you come off telling me what to do?"

He smiled at her anger. "You didn't thank me for saving your life, Annabelle... twice."

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't need saving." She could only think that all her problems were his doing. She frowned. "What do you mean twice?"

Moriarty didn't answer but instead took her handbag from her lap and withdrew the gun.

"This is a semi-automatic, 9mm Glock. I picked it out especially for you."

He turned it lovingly in his hands and smiled. He clicked off the gun's magazine and turned it toward her.

"If you look here you'll see I've filled the magazine for you too." He pulled out a bullet to show her and then reinserted it, clicking the mag back in place. "But when you're about to fire the gun, sweetheart, you need to take off the safety catch first." He smiled. "I know you won't forget that part next time."

He proceeded to flick off the safety catch and with his finger on the trigger, aimed for the back of Sebastian's head. Annabelle caught her breath and couldn't move. Sebastian looked at Moriarty in the rearview mirror and kept driving as he waved his hand, unconcerned that he had a loaded gun pointed at his head.

Moriarty lowered the gun, and the two men chuckled together.

Annabelle's heart was in her throat as she looked at them. "You're both crazy." She closed her eyes and sunk into her seat, trying to calm herself down. She had to get away from them!

Moriarty looked at her, knowing he'd stepped over the line. He'd have to remember that she didn't understand the criminal world. "I'm sorry, darlin', I didn't mean to frighten you."

He secured the safety catch and put the gun back into her handbag. "Seb's known me for a while, and he completely trusts me. In time, you will as well." He placed the handbag back on her lap.

She opened her eyes. "Trust you? I hate you."

She saw that hit a chord in him and immediately regretted her flying tongue. She sighed. "Please get this thing away from me. If my safety depends on me using a gun, then I'd rather die." She pushed the handbag away, and it landed with a thump on the car's floor.

Moriarty picked the bag off the ground. Why did he let her affect him like this? She was under his control and her very life depended on him. She was only a tool in his plan to control the most powerful in Europe and crush those who stood in his way, namely Sherlock Holmes. So why did he care what she thought of him?