It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

15 - The End Of Scarlett

"Scarlett, lovely to see you again." Jim just smiled, "Have you been tending to your husband's grave lately?"

The woman glared at Jim considering she couldn't speak as Seb's hand covered her mouth completely. The consulting criminal simply circled them both, a vulture waiting to feast on a dead animal walking.

They were in a wooded area behind the house that Scarlett had kept the detective and thief in. It was silly of her to run considering they had been watching and waiting to make their move. The moment they saw her leave, Seb tackled her to the ground as soon as she was out of sight of the house and dragged her to the wooded bit both men hid in.

"You've hurt my dearest, most precious thief and, well, you simply can't be allowed to continue. Although, you probably knew that would be the case didn't you?"

Puzzled, Scarlett held her gaze on Jim. Elizabeth lied then? She would die knowing that she had gotten Jim back?

"She's not going to die though, like you had wanted. We called the police and the ambulance already see. You did this for nothing. And now you'll die too."

Jim unsheathed a pretty knife from his sleeve and played with it, flipping it from one hand to another as he got closer and closer to her. Scarlett was struggling more in Seb's hold now. She didn't want to die - she wasn't meant to! It was meant to be Eliz -

Before she could even finish her thought, blood dripped from the gaping wound in her neck. The criminal had been so quick Scarlett had barely noticed it and by the time she did, it was too late. The woman sank to the floor, away from Seb, like the dead weight she was. Sirens were nearing now and blue lights tinted the road that lead into the new development.

"Brilliant, I hope you're paying for a new pair of gloves - mine are bloodstained now." Seb said, matter-of-factly.

"Well, no one told you to buy grey gloves." Jim rolled his eyes, "Come along, Seb, pack up your gun. We'll meet with Elizabeth soon."

*   *   *   *   *   *

"Sherlock, she's waking up."

"Elizabeth?"

Their voices drifted, echoing in and out of her head. She understood but the heaviness of her body and cloudiness of her mind kept her from replying. Even their images seemed a bit blurred to her. Gradually they became clearer and she saw them to be Sherlock and John, both with equally concerned faces. She felt and saw Sherlock's hand squeeze her hand gently, reassuringly.

"Squeeze my hand if you're okay."

She did this with more effort than she thought would be needed. The anaesthetic clearly had quite a harsh effect on her. Elizabeth tried to use her free hand to remove her oxygen mask. Questions riddled her brain and she needed to know the answers but her hand wasn't even strong enough to pull off her mask which John did for her eventually.

"Scarlett?"

"The police found her with her throat-cut in the wooded area behind the development." John answered her.

She made a small nod then looked to Sherlock, "Why didn't - you leave?"

"I told you before: I wasn't going to leave you when I knew you had a good chance of surviving."

"I didn't."

Sherlock and John shared a look. While John hadn't been there, after he arrived with Lestrade and the police, the first thing he had noticed was the fact that there were two ambulances, one of which was leaving as he got out of Lestrade's car. Sherlock was still at the site but when he saw John he explained everything that had happened and how she would have died had it not been for the first ambulance - neither of which himself nor Elizabeth called. He had used a phone that one of the dead goons had to call the second ambulance.

John had surmised that perhaps whoever the gunman was, was actually looking out for her. Sherlock wanted to agree however something had simply not felt quite right about it. If they wanted to save Elizabeth, why not shoot Scarlett?

"Had it not been for the first ambulance,  then, yes, you would have died."

"First?"

"Someone - we don't know who - called the first one. I called the second after you passed out."

"He knows he should have called the ambulance first." John interjected.

"You only saved - me for the - information." Elizabeth swallowed, her throat dry.

Sherlock shook his head, "No. You saved me so I saved you. Only it wasn't me who called the first ambulance but still - I promised to protect you."

"Did a - shit job." Her mouth curved up at the edges slightly.

Sherlock couldn't fight back the smile. John chuckled lightly.

"She has a point, Sherlock."

"At least you're alive." He pointed out.

"Would have died quicker - without you - so thanks." Elizabeth squeezed Sherlock's hand once again.

But at this his hand slipped quickly from her light grip. Not in a mean or cold way, but simply more flustered than his usual manner.

"Get some rest. John and I will look over the scene again. You have an officer outside if you need anything."

As the two men left, Elizabeth managed a little wave before she easily sank back into sleep again. She needed it.

*  *  *  *  *  *

She twirled the cord of the phone around her fingers as she listened to the Irishman on the phone:

"You know the message now. Make sure you give it to her - and please stress the fact that this will be her only chance to come back to me without consequence."

"Doesn't seem like it will be a problem as long as we keep our deal."

"I would never dare to go against it, Miss Adler."

With that he hung up. Deep down she knew that he would should something inconvenient happen. Irene had to get a message to Elizabeth. Didn't seem like it would be a problem at all. She just needed to wait for the right time.

But for now she had clients to attend to.

Putting down the phone, she quickly organised herself before strolling seductively into the occupied room and announcing:

"Now then, what naughty things have you been up to?"