Fate Without Time

Chapter 28

The next thing I knew, the three of us were in the office of the car hire company at Janus Cars. John and I were sitting at the other side of the desk to the owner, Mr. Ewert, taking notes while Sherlock looked out into the forecourt. "Can't see how I can help you three," said Mr. Ewert. "Mr Monkford hired the car from you yesterday," I said. "Yeah. Lovely motor. Mazda RX-8. Wouldn't mind one of them myself!" he said. Then, Sherlock walked over to the other side of the desk so that he was standing beside Ewert, then pointed into the forecourt. "Is that one?" he asked. While averting his eyes to where Sherlock was pointing, Sherlock looked at the side of the man's neck closely. "No, they're all Jags. Yeah, I can see you're not a car man, eh?" he asked. Sherlock straightened up while Ewert was looking at the cars and smiled at John and I. "But, er, surely you can afford one – a Mazda, I mean?" asked Sherlock. "Yeah, it's a fair point. But you know how it is: it's like working in a sweetshop. Once you start picking at the liquorice allsorts, when does it all stop, eh?" asked Ewert, starting to scratch near the top of his left arm with his right hand. Sherlock looked at him for a moment, then turned away and headed around the room towards the other side of the desk. "But you didn't know Mr Monkford?" asked John. "No, he was just a client. Came in here and hired one of my cars. No idea what happened to him. Poor sod," said Ewert. Sherlock looked at me as he reached the other side of the desk, motioning for me to take over. "Nice holiday, Mr Ewert?" I asked. "Eh?" asked Ewert, clearly confused. "You've been away, haven't you?" I asked. "Oh, the-the ..." he paused as he gestured to his tanned face. "No, it's, er, sunbeds, I'm afraid, yeah. Too busy to get away. My wife would love it, though – bit of sun," he said. "Have you got any change for the cigarette machine?" asked Sherlock. "What?" asked Ewert. "Well, I noticed one on the way in and I haven't got any change," Sherlock paused as he offered him a blank note. "I'm gasping," he said. "Um, well ...Hmm," Ewert paused as he pulled out his wallet and looked inside. "No, sorry," he said. "Oh well. Thank you very much for your time, Mr Ewert," said Sherlock as we turned and headed for the door. "You've been very helpful. Come on, John," I said as we left the office. "I-I've got change if you still want to, uh ..." John trailed off. "Nicotine patches, remember? I'm doing well," said Sherlock, patting his upper left arm. "So what was that all about?" asked John. "I needed to look inside his wallet," said Sherlock. "Why?" asked John. "Mr. Ewert's a liar," I said as we walked off.

Back at St. Bart's Lab, Sherlock was examining a large drop of blood in a shallow glass dish. Putting the dish onto the desk, he reached into a small bag of equipment, opened a bottle and siphoned out some liquid with a small dropper. Bending down to the dish, he squeezed out a drop of the liquid onto the blood, which started to fizz. But as Sherlock straightened up, the pink phone rang. He picked up the phone and put it on speaker so that John and I could hear it as well. "Hello?" he asked. "The clue's in the name. Janus Cars," said the young man, clearly frightened by the situation. "Why would you be giving us a clue?" I asked. "Why does anyone do anything? Because I'm bored. We were made for each other, Sherlock and Alissandra," he said. "Then talk to us in your own voice," said Sherlock. "Patience," said the young man. Then, the line went dead. As Sherlock and I looked at our progress, we smiled. We were getting closer and closer to solving this puzzle.

With three hours to go, the three of us and Lestrade were standing around Monkford's car. "How much blood was on that seat, would you say?" asked Sherlock. "How much? About a pint," said Lestrade. "Not 'about.' Exactly a pint. That was their first mistake. The blood's definitely Ian Monkford's but it's been frozen," I said. "Frozen?" Lestrade repeated. "There are clear signs. I think Ian Monkford gave a pint of his blood some time ago and that's what they spread on the seats," said Sherlock. "Who did?" asked John. "Janus Cars. The clue's in the name," I said. "The god with two faces," said John. "Exactly," said Sherlock. "Mmm," said John. Then, Sherlock and I turned to Lestrade. "They provide a very special service. 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, at a guess; he's a banker. Couldn't see a way out," said Sherlock. "But if he were to vanish, if the car he hired was found abandoned with his blood all over the driver's seat ..." I added. "So where is he?" asked John. Sherlock closed the car door. "Columbia," he said. "Colombia?!" John repeated. "Mr Ewert of Janus Cars had a twenty thousand Colombian peso note in his wallet," I said. "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," Sherlock added. "No-one wears a shirt on a sunbed. That, plus his arm," I said. "His arm?" asked Lestrade. "Kept scratching it. 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 Colombia. Mrs Monkford cashes in the life insurance and she splits it with Janus Cars," said Sherlock. "M-Mrs Monkford?" asked John. "Oh yes. She's in on it too," I paused as I turned back to Lestrade. "Now go and arrest them, Inspector. That's what you do best," I said. Then, we turned to John. "We need to let our friendly bomber know that the case is solved," said Sherlock. As we walked away from the crime scene, Sherlock and I high-fived. "We are on fire!" I exclaimed.

Back at the flat, Sherlock and I were updating our blog:

Congratulations to Ian Monkford on his relocation to Colombia.

As we sent the message, the pink phone rang again. I quickly put it on speaker. "He says you can come and fetch me. Help. Help me, please," said the young man, back to normal. I breathed a sigh of relief as I looked up at Sherlock, who put his arm around me. "Thank God!" I exclaimed.

As I was getting ready for bed, I got a text from an unknown number. Confused yet intrigued, I read the text:

I've got a good feeling that we are going to meet very soon, Alissandra. Remember, don't tell Sherlock. Besides, when he comes to rescue you, I've got a big surprise for him. You wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, would you?

I slowly put the phone down, starting to get scared. What if I was next? Even though I was capable of defending myself, the thought of having a bomb strapped to my body absolutely terrified me. But I couldn't tell Sherlock or he might get hurt. Long story short, I didn't get much sleep that night.