You See But Do Not Observe

LINGERS

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE : LINGERS

Sherlock waited patiently for that stupid reporter to come back as he searched for something to pick the lock with. He finally heard her coming up the stairs.

"Too late to go on the record?" He said, and she jumped in fright.

"Congratulations. The truth about Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said to her, picking the lock with a hairpin. "The scoop that everybody wanted and you got it. Bravo."

"I gave you your opportunity. I wanted to be on your side, remember? You turned me down, so-" She said.

"And then, behold, someone turns up and spills all the beans. How utterly convenient. Who is Brook?" Kitty didn't answer.

"Oh, come on, Kitty. No one trusts the voice at the end of a telephone. There are all those furtive little meetings in cafés, those sessions in the hotel room where he gabbled into your Dictaphone. How do you know that you can trust him? A man turns up with the Holy Grail in his pockets. What were his credentials?" Sherlock demanded, and someone came up the stairs.

"Darling, they didn't have any ground coffee so I just got normal-" Moriarty emerged, and Sherlock bolted to his feet, his hands in instant fists.

"You said that they wouldn't find me here. You said that I'd be safe here." Moriarty said in a timid, frightened voice. His disguise was clever.

"You are safe, Richard. I'm a witness. He wouldn't harm you in front of witnesses." Kitty said reassuringly. Sherlock thought she was being rather naïve.

So that's your source? Moriarty is Richard Brook?" John said angrily.

"Of course he's Richard Brook. There is no Moriarty. There never has been." Kitty said, wrapping an arm around Moriarty's shoulders.

"What are you talking about?" John demanded.

"Look him up. Rich Brook, an actor Sherlock Holmes hired to be Moriarty."

"Doctor Watson, I know you're a good man." Moriarty said, and John took a step forward.

"Don't...don't h...Don't hurt me." Moriarty stammered.

"No, you are Moriarty!" John screamed in rage. "He's Moriarty! We've met. Remember? You were gonna blow me up!"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Moriarty looked at Sherlock, who was still marveling over the simplicity of his plan. "He paid me. I needed the work. I'm an actor. I was out of work. I'm sorry, okay?"

"Sherlock, you'd better...explain...because I am not getting this." John panted in anger.

"Oh I'll, I'll be doing the explaining, in print. It's all here, conclusive proof." She handed John a folder, which he flipped open.

"You invented James Moriarty, your nemesis." Kitty said to Sherlock

"Invented him?" John exclaimed.

"Mmm-hmm. Invented all the crimes, actually, and to cap it all, you made up a master villain." Kitty said.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous!"

"Ask him. He's right here! Just ask him. Tell him, Richard."

"Look, for God's sake, this man was on trial!"

"Yes, and you paid him; paid him to take the rap. Promised you'd rig the jury." Kitty said to Sherlock. "Not exactly a West End role, but I'll bet the money was good. But not so good he didn't want to sell his story."

"I am sorry. I am. I am sorry." Moriarty begged John.

"So-so this is the story that you're gonna publish. The big conclusion of it all. Moriarty's an actor?" John asked.