August Holmes, Sherlock's Daughter

Chapter Twenty-Five: His Last Vow Pt. 2

"Don't you Moriarty?"

I turned my head behind me to see Chris Moriarty walking in. I sucked in a nervous breath.

"I understood we were meeting at your office." Sherlock said.

Moriarty looks around the flat and smirked. "This is my office... Well it is now."

Moriarty sits down on the sofa, glancing at an old newspaper we had on the table.

"Moriarty, I have been asked to intercede with you by Lady Elizabeth Smallwood on the matter of her husband's letters. Some time ago you ... put pressure on her concerning those letters. She would like those letters back." Sherlock said, glaring at Chris Moriarty. "Obviously the letters no longer have any practical use to you, so with that in mind..."

Chris Moriarty laughs quietly.

"Something I said?" Sherlock asked, irritated.

"No, no. I-I was reading." Moriarty smiled. "There's rather a lot....August Holmes."

Sherlock blinks and looks at me - and then back to Moriarty.

"Sorry." Chris shakes his head. "S-sorry. You were probably talking?"

"I was trying to explain that I've been asked to act on behalf of..." Sherlock was interrupted again.

"Bathroom?" Chris looks around.

"Along from the kitchen, sir." One of the security guards spoke up.

"Okay." Moriarty sighed.

"I've been asked to negotiate the return of those letters. I'm aware you do not make copies of sensitive documents ..." Sherlock said more firmly.

Moriarty gestured around the flat. "Is it like the rest of the flat?"

"Sir?" The security guard looked confused.

"The bathroom?" Moriarty said.

"Er, yes, sir."

"Maybe not, then." Moriarty sighed.

"Am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?" Sherlock repeated.

"Lady Elizabeth Smallwood. I like her. Then again, I also liked Ely."

I clenched my jaw in anger. I'm going to kill him.

"Moriarty, am I acceptable to you as an intermediary?" Sherlock was growing antsy.

"She's English, with a spine. Best thing about the English..." Chris Moriarty unzipped is pants and stood in front of our fire place.  "... you're so domesticated. All standing around, apologizing... keeping your little heads down. You can do what you like here. No-one's ever going to stop you."

The sound of Moriarty pissing in my fireplace made me even more pissed off.

"A nation of herbivores. I've interests all over the world but, er, everything starts in England. If it works here ...I'll try it in a real country. The United Kingdom, huh? Petri dish to the Western world." Moriarty zipped up his pants and used a wet wipe to clean his hands. "Tell Lady Elizabeth I might need those letters, so I'm keeping them. Goodbye."

Moriarty showed Sherlock the letters. "Anyway ...they're funny... tell Ely I dropped by. I'm sure he's missed me." 

Moriarty leaves the room, his security men followed him and they slam the door on their way out.

"Jesus!" I shout, standing up and putting my hands in my face. "I hate him."

"Did you notice the one extraordinary thing he did?" Sherlock asked.