Sophia Holmes and the Great Game (Sherlock's Daughter Fanfic) *Completed*

Chapter Five - Ian Monkford Part II

"What are we doing here, Sherlock?" John demands as we walk into the car pound with Lestrade.

I glance down at my watch for a time check before we gather around the car. We have three hours left.

"How much blood was on that seat, would you say?" dad asks, deviating slightly from the question asked.

"How much?" Lestrade repeats. "About a pint."

"Not 'about'," I correct him. "Exactly a pint. That was their first mistake. The blood's definitely Ian Monkford's but it's been frozen."

"Frozen?" Lestrade repeats yet again, and I roll my eyes at apparent the echo in the room.

"There are clear signs," I explain. "I think Ian Monkford gave a pint of his blood some time ago and that's what they spread on the seats."

"Who did?" John asks.

"Janus Cars," dad replies. "'The clue's in the name.'"

"The god with two faces," John realises.

"Exactly."

"Mmm."

"They provide a very special service," dad explains to Lestrade. "If you've got any kind of a problem - money troubles, bad marriage, whatever - Janus Cars will help you disappear."

"Ian Monkford was up to his eyes in some kind of trouble - financial, according to his wife, and why wouldn't he be; he's a banker," I continue. "Couldn't see a way out. But if he were to vanish, if the car he hired was found abandoned with his blood all over the driver's seat ..."

"So where is he?" John asks.

"Columbia," dad answers, closing the car door after a quick inspection.

"Columbia?!" Lestrade repeats, yet again, with the rather obvious tone which means he wants it explained.

"Mr Ewert of Janus Cars had a twenty thousand Columbian peso note in his wallet," dad tells him. "Quite a bit of change, too. He told us he hadn't been abroad recently, but when I asked him about the cars, I could see his tan line clearly."

"No-one wears a shirt on a sunbed," I add.

"That, plus his arm."

"His arm?"

"Kept scratching it," dad explains. "Obviously irritating him, and bleeding. Why? Because he'd recently had a booster jab. Hep-B, probably. Difficult to tell at that distance. Conclusion: he'd just come back from settling Ian Monkford into his new life in Columbia. Mrs Monkford cashes in the life insurance and she splits it with Janus Cars."

"M-Mrs Monkford?" John stutters.

"Oh yes," I say. "Like I said before -she's in on it too." Lestrade lowers his head with a look of amazement on his face.

"Now go and arrest them, Inspector," dad orders. "That's what you do best." He turns to me and John. "We need to let our friendly bomber know that the case is solved." He turns and leads us away, leaving Lestrade behind in stunned silence. "I am on fire!" he cries triumphantly as we walk out, and I shake my head whilst I hold in a chuckle.

***

A little while later, we run up the stairs of 221B and sit down at the table as we wait for my computer to load up, still in our coats due to the low temperature of the room since the explosion knocked out our windows.

Once my computer loads up after an age of waiting, we open up The Science of Deduction, and John and I watch as dad types a quick message into the text box.

Congratulations to Ian Monkford on his relocation to Columbia.

It occurs to me how strange these messages may seem to anybody outside the walls of 221B, but someone is obviously watching our website because, less than five seconds after posting, the pink phone begins to ring.

"He says you can come and fetch me," the man says tearfully and I narrow my eyes. "Help. Help me, please."

I don't know if he mentioned it before, but he's just let us know a piece of information about our bomber, although the chances were already quite high. He told us his kidnapper was a male.

But the envelope the pink phone was sent in had feminine handwriting. Is there more than one person involved - a man and a woman, perhaps? Or is our bomber a gay man?

My mind starts racing, then my eyes widen with realisation.