Hello Detective

The Empty Hearse Part 7

Reporters always exhausted me. After the herd began to thin out, Sherlock and I returned within the warm confines of 221 Baker Street. While following Sherlock up the stairs, my phone decided to ring.

Kitty Riley. My caller ID read.

Sherlock looked back at me with a raised brow.

"Go on up, I'll meet you in a few minutes." I nodded to him as I took the call.

"Kitty." I answered, returning to the base of the stairs.

"Adelaide. I was wondering if you'd give a comment on the attempted terrorist attack and arrest of Lord Moran." Kitty asked.

I nodded, spewing some generic answer about intel, incarceration, and the police force.

"Is that all you called for Kitty?" I asked, pacing slightly around the foyer.

"Well, actually there is something else. One of my colleagues is working on a piece on you. Apparently the owner of the paper gave them some dirt on you, something between you and your cousin or uncle or something. I'm not sure, but I thought you'd like to know. Incase someone contacts you." Kitty explained, causing me to stop dead in your tracts. Ryan. Even after a year he decides to rear his dead ugly head.

"Thank you for letting me know, Kitty. Keep an eye out, but don't get involved. I'll take care of it." I said, reassuring myself that this could be handled.

On my way up the stairs I decided to run a quick search on who owned her paper.

Charles Augustus Magnussen.

On second thought, I decided to pay him a visit, researching his head office, I slipped outside and called a cab.

Once in front of the large, glass building, all it took was a couple of flashes of my government issued ID to get me in.

I now stood in front of the desk of Magnussen's assistant.

"Hello, I'm-" I began, but was cut off.

"Oh, I know who you are Ms. Gregson. He's been expecting you." She smiled cheerfully. "I'm a big fan by the way, of you and Mr. Holmes. Are you two together?"

"Oh, um, hah," I laughed awkwardly, but were confused as hell, "How's he expecting me?"

Before she could answer, the door behind her opened, revealing the man, the devil himself.

"Thank you Janine. Ms. Gregson right this way, please have a seat." He ushered me into his office with a smile.

I sat down across from him with slight apprehension. He knew I was coming. How could he know, it was a spur of the moment decision. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Most likely it was Sherlock wondering where I'd run off to.

"Two days ago Donald Trump fired the Director of the FBI. So, for the time being, the Assistant Director would take over, no? And up until a year ago, that man would have been your uncle. Except he mysteriously disappeared." Magnussen said, folding his hands and leaning closer to me from behind his large desk.

"Actually I heard he defected to Russia and was killed there, but you know how rumors are. Your paper thrives on them as if they were facts." I retorted.

"You and your uncle didn't get on well, did you?" He asked with a smirk.

"We can't choose our family, though I'm not sure what you're implying." I shrugged, keeping a cool calm air about me.

"Actually, your uncle's disappearance lines up perfectly with when you started working for MI6, is that correct." He leaned closer still. How could he know I worked for MI6? That was confidential information.

"Circumstantial. What's your point?" I asked, if this was a fight for dominance I was to show no weaknesses. I straighten my back and leaned forward.

"Revenge is a dangerous thing, Madame Director-General. It drives us to do things we might regret. Things that might tarnish our reputations." He spoke, there was no question and therefore warranted no response.

"Did you kill your uncle?" He asked- point blank.

"And why would I do that?" I crossed my legs, swinging my foot slightly. I had to seem relaxed.

"Probably because of the years of abuse and violation." He now sat back in his chair. That was the kicker. I hoped my face gave nothing away, because my mind was reeling.

"And who's your source on that one?" I asked. Play it cool, Adelaide. I warned myself.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, journalistic integrity and all." He answered, causing me to laugh. I would have never used the word integrity to describe any of this man's actions.

"You know at some point you're going to need a shred of proof, instead of wasting my time with these accusations." I leaned back casually in my chair.

"What if I told you I had proof? MI6 files?" He raised a brow.

"Then I would tell you that those are extremely confidential, a clearance level that even you couldn't buy." I warned him.

"What if I had it right here?" he pulled a folded piece of paper from his inner coat pocket. "You have a lot of red in your ledger, Madame Director-General. If the public knew about the things you've done." He made a tisk-tisk sound with his tongue.

"Then they'd understand that it was all to protect them, legally with a license to kill, everything I've done has been in service to this country and it's national security." I spoke, my voice unwavering.

"What about the ones done in service to yourself, what would uncle Ryan say? Speaking of that license, wasn't it only obtained after you killed your uncle, making it, not so legal and possibly punishable. It could be considered treason, you could have your citizenship revoked, could you not? Imagine never seeing that cute little family of yours again. Imagine what the young Mr. Holmes would do without you?" My eyes widened, realizing he was right.

"You can't print this story Mr. Magnussen." I begged, uncrossing my legs and leaning forward in my chair.

"What would you do for this to stay quiet?" He asked.

"Anything." I answered honestly.

"Good, I'll be in touch." He nodded, standing from his seat.

"That's it? You blackmail me, for what? A favor down the road when it's convenient to you?" I snarled.

"Yes, because it's more than a ledger Ms. Gregson, it's everything you've ever done. I've got it, every dark thought you've ever had, I know it. And when the time comes and I need your assistance, you will grant it. Now don't worry, I'm not asking you to betray your country or divulge top secret information. I just need to know that you'll be on my side when I need you to be. Now if you'll excuse me, I have another meeting. But feel free to drop in anytime you'd like, I'll have Janine add you to the list." He motioned towards the door, and the plump secretary on the other side.

"You're despicable." I growled.

"Good day to you too, Adelaide." He smiled, opening the door for me. I strutted out, not turning back.

What had I just done? Had I sold my soul? When it came to Magnussen, selling my soul was the least of my problems.