The Woman Who Counted (A Sherlolly Tale)

Chapter 37

            “How fresh?” Sherlock asked.

            The corpse of an ivory skinned, blue haired girl lay on a slab in the mortuary. The throat was cut, and bruising was scattered all over the body. Sherlock stood at Molly’s side as he viewed the corpse.

            Molly stood at the corpse’s head, clipboard in hand. “Just in. Twenty-three. She was just visiting her parents here.”

            Sherlock began to walk towards the corpse’s feet. “How long has she lived here?”

            “I was told three months. Hang on…” She walked over to him, holding out a plastic bag of evidence and a pair of blue latex gloves to him. He slid on the gloves, and then grabbed the bag. In it were an iPhone in a blue case, a fox pin, which had the tiniest bit of blood on the point. He recognized the pin of course, and when the phone began to buzz and Nirvana’s Heart Shaped Box started to play, he already knew whom to expect.

            He answered without pause, opening the bag quickly and grabbing the phone, pressing “Accept Call” and putting the phone to his ear.

            “Hello.” He said.

            “Hi.” Jim Moriarty said.

            Sherlock paused, trying to think of what to say. “Why her?”

            “Sorry?” Moriarty asked. “Questions already? Why don’t we catch up first?”

            “Moran could have chosen anyone for his thrill kill,” Sherlock ignored him. “Why her?”

            “Bad day?” Sherlock could almost hear him shrug. “Sebby isn’t always the happiest, Sherlock. Sometimes, he just picks out something he doesn’t like about a person, stalks them a bit, and kills them once he gets the chance. In this case, it was her hair, as he tells me.”

            “Her hair?”

            “He doesn’t like the colour blue.” Moriarty paused, then continued as Sherlock was about to speak again. “Anyways, shall we catch up?”

            “Wouldn’t you prefer to do that in person?” Sherlock asked.

            “Nah.” Sherlock could here footsteps both from the morgue and through the phone. He turned, and Molly stood next to him, and hand on the wrist that hung at his side. She grabbed the bag and looked up.

            “Sherlock?” Molly said. “Who is it?”

            He only looked down at her, her head cocked and she stared up at him, her brown eyes questioning.

            “Ooooh,” Moriarty sang. “Is that your pretty new girlfriend? Sebby told me you had one. She sounds like … Molly Hooper.” He laughed. “Is Molly Hooper your girlfriend?”

            “How many more until I get to see your face again?” Sherlock looked away from Molly and back at the corpse.

            “Answer me,” Moriarty said. “Miss Hooper?”

            Molly moved her hand from his wrist to his hand. “Sherlock, who is it?”

            “Aren’t you going to tell her?” Another voice said through the phone.

            “Is that Sebastian, then?” Sherlock asked.

            “Oh, yes.” Moriarty said, “I forgot to tell you he was around. You’re on speaker, by the way.”

            “Yes, I figured that out.”

            “Come on, then,” Moriarty said. “Is she Molly Hooper?”

            Moran spoke next. “I don’t think he wants to tell us. How about I show you the pictures?”

            “Ooooh, pictures?”

            Sherlock rolled his eyes.

            Moriarty was giggling. “Ah, yes. You know, I did always think you’d end up with John, though. Oh, but you two are absolutely adooorable. Wouldn’t you agree, Seb?”

            Moran said, “Why do you think I took the pictures?”

            “I think I may keep you.” Moriarty said. “Anyways, back to catching up! You’re back from the dead. I’m back from the dead. Hmm, what else is there? Oh, yes. Girlfriend. You’ve got one. I don’t. I’ve got someone better though, of course. Let's see, is there anything I’m missing?”

            “Someone else, hm?” Sherlock said, looking back to Molly.

            “Sherlock,” Molly said. “Who are you talking to? Is it ... him?”

            “Yes,” Moriarty said, and Sherlock knew he was smiling. “I’m sure you already know who.”

            “So I was right, then?”

            “About what?”

            “Gay.”

            “Sherlock.” Molly said.

            “Of course you were,” Moriarty said. “Now, tell Miss Hooper who you are talking to. I don’t know why you are keeping it.”

            “Sherlock, who–?” Moly stopped speaking as Sherlock put the phone on speaker.

            “Molly?” Moriarty said. “I do hope that he put us on speaker. It is ever so tiring, listening to you ask him over and over again: Who is this? Who is this? Who did you think this was?”

            “Now that we are done catching up,” Sherlock said as Molly gripped his hand tighter. “answer my question. How many more?”

            “Oh, this is Sebby’s fun, not mine,” Moriarty said. “Well, it is fun to watch, now that I think about it. Anyways, Seb? How long.”

            “Oh,” Moran said, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “I’ve not decided yet.”

            “Lovely.” Sherlock muttered.

            “Alright,” Moriarty said after a moment of silence between the four of them, “I was just calling to say ‘hi’. I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”

            “Oh,” Sherlock said, “we’ve only just begun talking.”

            “Oh, and this isn’t the end,” Moriarty said. “And you know it isn’t. You’ll be hearing from us, Sherlock. Goodbye.”

            “Oh yeah,” Moran spoke up, “we do have one more thing, don’t we?”

            “Ah, yes!” Moriarty said. “That girl who is probably clinging to your side right now,” Sherlock looked down at Molly, “keep an eye on her.”

            And with that, Moriarty hung up. Molly buried her head against Sherlock’s chest as he slid the phone back into its bag. He placed it on the side of the autopsy table and wrapped both arms around Molly, laying his chin on the top of her head.

I just realized how difficult writing Moriarty is...and I just realized how bad I am at it....

–OH