An Agent of Chaos (BBC Sherlock Fan Fiction)

8. Mr. and Mrs. Psychopath

8. Mr. and Mrs. Psychopath

            Truthfully, I’d never personally met Sherlock Holmes or John Watson, Jim had many times. I guess I’d be on their map after tonight, if they could figure out that I was behind this, that is. They definitely knew Jim was here at the party tonight, but I bet they knew nothing about me. I bet they didn’t know I existed. Robberies were nothing for Sherlock Holmes unless a murder was involved. I’d never killed anyone when being in England.

            Tonight was going to change that.

            I made my way over to the champagne glasses again, all while popping snack foods into my mouth. I acted natural when around the glasses. Most people had their backs turned to me, so I was pretty much in the clear. I was hidden by bodies, so if Sherlock and/or John were still searching, they wouldn’t notice me.

            I emptied the bottle, pouring in a bit of the poison in random glasses. I was sure people would be coming for drinks soon enough. This was the best time to plant the poison, while no one was watching. I picked up a non-poisoned glass for myself before I walked back to find Jim.

            What I was feeling right now, it was indescribable. The anticipation killed me, knowing that at any second someone could take one swallow and be dead in less than a half hour. I tried to remember how many glasses I’d chosen. I knew I’d done at least five, maybe one or two more after that.

            That was a good enough body count for tonight. It would be the biggest homicide I’d ever done if all of the poison was taken.

            Now, I wasn’t sure if Jim did it on purpose or it was bad luck for him. Either way, he looked to be smooth-talking a few women. They looked around the same age as me, dressed more sophisticated than me too. I chugged the rest of my champagne down, my green eyes narrowed at the sight. A butler came by with an empty serving tray. I lithely placed my empty glass on it and collected my bearings before making my way to Jim. I didn’t understand why this bothered me so much all of a sudden. Well, when have I ever seen him around other women?

            I was intercepted halfway, diverting my attention elsewhere. It wasn’t Sherlock or John, so there wasn’t much need to panic. Still, the fact that an older gentleman who was graying everywhere found me was a bit unnerving.

            “Did your date ditch you?” he asked.

            “Oh, no,” I said politely. His eyes bugged at hearing my voice.

            “What’s someone like you doing out here in England?”

            “I’ve been here with my boyfriend for about…gosh, I think two years now?” I lied. “We’ve been dating for a while longer.” I kept my hands behind my back just in case the man tried anything on me.

            “Whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy.”

            I noticed the man didn’t wear a ring. “Let me guess, an elderly bachelor?”

            “Widow, actually.”

            “Oh, sorry to hear that.”

            “Everything alright here, darling?” Jim’s warm touch on my hands alerted me to his presence.

            “Yeah.” I turned my head to him. Though I was smiling, my eyes were piercing through his soul. “I was just talking with someone who—” I turned my head back around only to see the man had disappeared. I rolled my eyes as he was now trying to talk with another woman. “Clearly he’s over his dead wife.”