The Other Side - BBC Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter 7 - Down Goes Another One

Angel

It has been almost a week since the audition and Jim is beginning to stress out that he hasn't heard anything back, I assure him that it'll all be fine and that it is usual for them to take a while to get back. All of this anxiety gives me a chance to look into the emotions which he has locked away. Just to see how he reacts, at one point I yell at him "James Moriarty, snap out of it! I expected better of you, but no, you've got just as many feelings as the rest of them." This shuts him up for a while and it also got him to entertain the idea of actually having feelings, a concept which he has long forgotten. All in all I am really killing two birds with one stone.

He looks hurt and embarrassed initially but quickly regains his usual composure and leaves the room, presumably to contemplate what I just said. I whip out my phone and write

So far, so good

-AD

I send it to Sherlock and Mycroft.

I feel like it is time to set free a few more of Jim's employees as until now I have only done so to one. Because I recently got rid of someone important (Moran) so I think that I'll have to settle for some "less important" people. And, when I say less important, I mean that they are so to Jim, I am adamant that you cannot measure the importance of someone in any way shape or form.

I go to my laptop and find a few people of minor importance to Jim and locate them. One of the names I come across happens to be just the other side of London, this is perfect, close enough for a quick journey yet not to close for Jim to notice. I grab my jacket and head for the tube station, today I feel like going by train. I have to buy a ticket, though, because Oyster cards are too easy to trace and I can't risk that.

I take several different trains to arrive at my stop, only a few minutes away from the house of the man known as John Smith, which is possibly the most obvious alias in the whole of England. His real name is Lennon Beckett, a criminal wanted for car theft. Jim gets in touch with him when he needs a car which won't get recognised. Lately, in particular, he hasn't needed to use Lennon's resources at all.

I approach the door and take note of the stench coming from inside. It smells like someone has died. I bang loudly on the door wanting to get this over and done with so that I can get as far away from here as I can. There is no response, yet the lights are on and his (notably stolen) car is here. This doesn't bode well at all. I realise now that maybe the source of the smell is a dead body after all.

I knock once more, still no answer. I assess my options and decide to go to one of the neighbours to call the police. I don't want the call to be traced back to my phone. I go to the next house and ring the doorbell, my face assumes a suitably distressed expression. The door is opened a few seconds later by a boy, about the age of ten. "Hello there," I say "Is your mum there?" He nods nervously and disappears into a room. He returns a minute later with a middle-aged woman, clearly his mother.

"Do you mind if I use your phone for a minute? It's just, I - well - I think that your neighbour, John, something's wrong with him and I need the police." She looks convinced by my stuttering and nods me inside, a concern look etched in her eyes. She shows me to the landline and hovers by the doorway as I dial 999.

"Hello 999, what's your emergency?" the robotic lady at the other end asks.

"I need the police, I think there's been a murder." I rush out with a hint of stress in my voice.

"I'll put you through to Scotland Yard right away, miss."

"Thank you" I reply.

"Hello, Scotland Yard, what's your emergency?" asks yet another seemingly emotionless woman.