The Jack of All Trades {Sherlock Holmes}

Chapter Nine

The gun clicked.

John grunted in shock as Shan smiled smugly.

"It tells you that they're not really trying," Shan said, as John breathed heavily, trying to get control of himself. Shan slid a clip into the pistol, cocking it before pointing it at John's head a second time, John cringing away once more. "Not blank bullets now."

Are you insane? Those weren't blank bullets. Even blank bullets cause gunpowder to ignite. Evelyn thought. That was an empty gun. However, Shan didn't seem to know, nor care, as she moved the gun over and pointed it directly at Evelyn's head.

"No," John whimpered, pulling against his bonds. "Leave her alone!"

"If we wanted to kill you, Mr. Holmes, we would have done it by now." Shan's eyes glared at Evelyn momentarily, Evelyn's eyes gleaming and glaring right back. "We just wanted to make you inquisitive. Do you have it?" She asked, turning the gun back towards John.

"Do I have what?"

"The treasure."

"I don't know what you're talking about," John assured, shifting beneath his bonds.

"I would prefer to make certain." She looked at her men, one of whom pulled the cover off of a large object to show the crossbow used at the circus. Oh god, really? Evelyn complained to her subconscious. 

An arrow was already loaded into the crossbow. John stared at it for a moment before sighing deeply as Shan turned back to him. "Everything in the West has its price; and the price for her life..."

He glanced at Evelyn.

"Information." Two men walked over and picked up Evelyn's chair. John could faintly hear her trying to swear beneath her gag, kicking as best as she could at the men.

They set her down on the other side of the crossbow, leaving her facing the tip of the arrow, directly in its path. Evelyn stared at it, flashes of memories running through her mind as she tugged in vain at the ropes tying her to the chair.

"Where's the hairpin?" Shan glared down at John, who was tugging at his own bonds in spite of the gun aimed at his head. 

"What?"

"The Empress pin valued at nine million sterling. We already had a buyer in the West; and then one of our people was greedy. He took it, brought it back to London, and you, Mr. Holmes, have been searching.

"Please. Please, listen to me. I'm not... I'm not Sherlock Holmes. You have to believe me. I haven't found whatever it is you're looking for!"

"I need a volunteer from the audience!" Shan announced, looking around the tunnel as her eyes trailed evilly over Evelyn.

"No, please. PLEASE!" John yelled, desperately, trying to get out of his bonds once more, to no avail or luck.

"Ah, thank you, Evelyn. Yes, you'll do very nicely." She glared heavily at Shan, wailing through her gag and trying to undo the knot. Shan smiled, taking a knife and stabbing a sandbag which hung over the crossbow, sand pouring onto the floor like blood from a gunshot.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, from the distant moonlit shores of NW1, we present for your pleasure, Sherlock Holmes' pretty companion in a death-defying act!" Shan walked over to Evelyn, lowly growling words at her. "I know who you are. You've seen the act before, how dull for you. You know how it ends."

"I'M NOT SHERLOCK HOLMES!" John desperately cried out.

"I DON'T BELIEVE YOU!" Shan whirled around, facing John as a voice rang out through the tunnel that belonged to none of the people that stood around them, leaving a deep rumbling voice echoing off the walls and into their ears.

"You should, you know. Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him."