You See But Do Not Observe

HOSTAGE

CHAPTER THIRTY : HOSTAGE

(Serena' POV)

"That...it's him. It's him. Sulejmani or something. Mycroft showed me his file. He's a big Albanian gangster lives two doors down from us." John said as Serena looked at the dead man. She had let go of Sherlock, but she kept glancing at him.

"He died because I shook his hand." Sherlock said.

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"He saved my life but he couldn't touch me. Why?" Sherlock began stalking off.

"Sherlock!" Serena called after him, but he didn't answer, just walked into the apartment.

She followed him up the stairs as he spoke. "Four assassins living right on our doorstep. They didn't come here to kill me; they have to keep me alive. I've got something that all of them want, but if one of them approaches me-"

"-the others kill them before they can get it." John finished.

Sherlock opened his computer for a few seconds before closing it again.

"All of the attention is focused on me. There's a surveillance web closing in on us right now." He said.

"So what have you got that's so important?" John asked, and Serena saw in Sherlock's eyes that he knew, but he didn't say a word. She held her tongue.

"We need to ask about the dusting." He said, looking at her with shielded eyes.

She went to get Mrs. Hudson.

"Precise details: in the last week, what's been cleaned?" Sherlock asked her.

"Well, Tuesday I did your lino-"

"No, in here, this room. This is where we'll find it, any break in the dust line. You can put back anything but dust."

He swirled his fingers across a desk. "Dust is eloquent."

"What's he on about?" Mrs. Hudson asked Serena.

"Cameras. We're being watched." Sherlock said, climbing onto a chair.

"What? Cameras?" She cringed. "Here? I'm in my nightie!" She hurried down the stairs, hands clutching at her long nightgown.

Serena heard someone coming up the stairs, and Serena turned to look at Greg.

"Greg?" She asked.

"No, Inspector." Sherlock said.

"What?" Greg said, and Sherlock stepped down from the chair with something in his hand.

"The answer's no."

"But you haven't heard the question!" Greg protested.

"You want to take me to the station. Just saving you the trouble of asking."

"Greg!" Serena exclaimed.

"Sherlock-"

"The scream?" Sherlock interrupted.

Greg sighed. "Yeah."

"Who was it? Donovan? I bet it was Donovan. Am I somehow responsible for the kidnapping? Ah, Moriarty is smart. He planted that doubt in her head; that little nagging sensation. You're gonna have to be strong to resist. You can't kill an idea, can you?" Sherlock said, moving toward Greg and placing a fingertip on his forehead as Serena watched, her stomach flipping over and over and over.

"Not once it's made a home there."

"Will you come?" Greg asked half-heartedly.

"One photograph, that's his next move. Moriarty's game: first the scream, then a photograph of me being taken in for questioning. He wants to destroy me inch by inch. It is a game, Lestrade, and not one I'm willing to play." Sherlock stared straight at Greg. "Give my regards to Sergeant Donovan."