The Great Game [Reader Insert]

Fire

     "I've got change," John offered as the trio walked out of the Janus Cars lot. "If you still want to-"

     "He has nicotine patches, remember, John?" you interuppted.

    "I'm doing well," Sherlock claimed. 

     You snorted. "Nope."  

     Sherlock pretended not to notice. "I just needed to see inside his wallet." 

     "What for?" asked John.

     "Mr. Ewart's a liar." Sherlock could only have voiced it more childishly if he'd added liar pants on fire. 

     Sherlock, what with him being the chemist in the group and all, went to his lab to run some tests on the blood from the car. Meanwhile, you went to your room to do some research. But you had scarcely opened up your laptop when suddenly your phone rang.

     Number blocked again. It wasn't Mycroft.

     You answered the call and brought the phone to your ear with a grim expression. "...Hello?"

     "The clue's in the name." It was the same trembling  voice from before. "J-J-Janus Cars."

     "Why would you be giving me a clue?"

     There was only the sound of traffic coming from the phone, and for a moment you were afraid that the message was over. But the terrified hostage spoke again. "Why does anyone do anything?" He took a shaky breath. "Because I'm bored. Sherlock's interesting, but you... You and I were made for each other, (Y/N)."

     "Then speak to me in your own voice!"

     ...

     "Patience." The call ended.

     You slowly lowered the phone, mind racing. Janus, the god with two faces. (THANK you, Rick Riordan, for filling my head with an excessive amount of knowledge about various branches of mythology.) What did that have to do with the company? It only reinforced your suspicion that there was more at work there than Mr. Ewart was willing to let on.

     You didn't have too much time to dwell on it, though, because at that moment, Sherlock burst into the room. You squealed and dropped the phone, then shot him an annoyed look. "Ever heard of knocking?"

     "Not important. I ran a test on a blood sample from..." Sherlock trailed off, his gaze shifting to the distance even as his eyes remained on yours. You motioned for him to continue, and he shook himself. "As I was saying, the blood sample. I ran a test, a delicate procedure based on-"

     "I don't need to know what kind of test it was, Sherlock! What about the blood is so important?"

     "It's been frozen. About how much blood do you think was in that car?"

     You blinked. "A pint." That means... "Listen, the bomber gave me a hint. Janus Cars, the clue is in the name, it- we- we've solved it!"

    "We have?"

     You smiled. "Yes. Grab your coat, we've got to go to the police station. You'll figure it out on the way."

     It didn't take Sherlock long to catch up. Once the two of you had dragged John into a cab, you explained that Janus was a god from Roman mythology, with two faces. Which meant that Janus Cars...

     "They provide a very special kind of service," you explain, sort of egging Sherlock on. "If you've got any sort of problem- money troubles, bad marriage, debt- whatever, Janus Cars can help you disappear."

     Sherlock nodded slowly, beginning to understand. "Ian Monkford was up to his eyes in some kind of trouble- possibly financial. He was a banker, after all. Couldn't see a way around it. But if he were to vanish, if the car he hired was found abandoned with his blood all over the driver's seat..."

     "Only trouble is, we've got no clue where exactly he went. Or we wouldn't have, except we saw Ewart's wallet." You gave Sherlock a look of approval, maybe even pride, for that move.

     "Colombia," he said.

     "Colombia!?" John repeated.

     Sherlock grinned. Brilliant! "Mr. Ewart had a twenty thousand Colombian peso note in his wallet," he explained for John. "Quite a bit of change, too."

     "And he'd taken some sort of injection to up his enemy. That, plus the obvious tan suggests that he was away on a business trip."

     "But he's a local car dealer. What would he need to be in Colombia for?" John questioned.

      "Exactly," you said. "That's the whole point. Mr. Ewart had just come back from settling Monkford into his new home in Colombia."

     "Mrs. Monkford cashes in on the life insurance," added Sherlock as the cab came to a stop just outside of New Scotland Yard, "and she splits it with Ewart and Janus Cars. She was in on it too!"

     You paid the cab as Sherlock and John stepped out of the car. You closed the door and the cab drove away just in time for you to see Sherlock, ever the child of the group, ruffled his hair in a disgustingly adorable way. "I am on fire!"

     Usually, Sherlock's childishness would have gotten on your nerves, but it was a bit of a time of celebration, after all. Sherlock was right. They were on a killing streak- Oh, okay, maybe not the best choice of words. 

     "It's time to let our friendly bomber know the case is solved," you announced. "Sherlock, you do that. John and I will tell Lestrade."

     The second hostage was barely twenty. He was wrapped in bombs, standing in the middle of a busy street when the police found him.

     Things were heating up.