Fire and Ice

The Case of Harold Wayland

Chapter 6: The Case of Harold Wayland

“Ask away,” Sherlock smiled. I could tell that Sherlock’s behavior was not normal towards these two agents. I looked at the two “agents” in suspicion and tried to see what Sherlock was seeing.

“Did Moriarty ever act strangely?” The shorter agent asked.

“He was a psychopath, of course he acted strangely,” Sherlock replied.

“But more non-human behavior.”

He leaned forward, “Describe non-human.”

The shorter agent looked at the taller one for help. But he was staring at Sherlock in shock and confusion. The short one nudged him in the rib cage and jerked him back into reality.

“Uh, like, sudden disappearances where you couldn’t find him for a few days then he’d reappear, or he could get groups of people to work for him like nothing,” the man said nervously.

“Exactly like him,” Sherlock said. I wondered if he was being honest with these questions.

“Great. Moriarty also tried to kill you. Why?”

“How would I know anything that Moriarty was thinking?”

“Could you make a guess?”

Sherlock stood up and he walked towards the door. Before I could figure out what he was doing, he slammed the door closed. Then stood in front of it so that no one could get out.

“What are you doing?” We asked in unison.

“You are not leaving here until you tell me what you really want and who you really are,” Sherlock said threateningly. “I know you’re not really FBI agents and I know that you’re not here to investigate massive genocides. So what are two unemployed Americans doing in my flat, asking about the man who tried to kill me?”

The two men exchanged concerned glances. I walked over to Sherlock and stood by his side.  

“I’d like to know too,” I said, “and Sherlock isn’t lying. I’ve known him for a very long time and I know that when he wants something, you’re not leaving until he gets it. So the sooner the better, boys.”

I looked up at Sherlock for approval to see that he was staring down at me, fighting off a smile. When he saw me look, he jerked his head away. I looked back over to the agents who were silently discussing.

“Alright,” the short one said as he turned to face us, “I’m Dean, this is Sam. We aren’t with the FBI but we have dealt with Moriarty before and we’re trying to figure out how he came back. Same as you.”

I looked up at Sherlock for approval. Their story seemed good enough for me, but the FBI story had been enough for me too. Maybe that wasn’t the truth. They could easily have been two of Moriarty’s men coming to us to find out what we knew.

“There’s more than that isn’t there?” Sherlock told them, “If there isn’t, then why do you want to know so much about a man that you’ve dealt with, if something big didn’t happen.”

“Well you really are as good as they say aren’t you,” Dean commented.

“You’re right,” Sam said hesitantly, “We ran into Moriarty, maybe 4 years ago. He tried to kill us. But he did these things. These unnatural things that we’ve never seen before, and trust me when I say we’ve seen unnatural. We killed him, and we thought he was dead up until yesterday.”

I looked up to Sherlock for approval again. I really needed to stop doing that. It got some funny stares in the street. I slowly lowered my gaze so that I was staring at Sam and Dean again.