His face was creased and looked worn but he couldn’t have been older than forty, his hair was lined with grey but it was not yet overrunning the black. Strangely pale eyes gleamed in the muted light and I sighed with pity, his face wrought with anger.
“I do not want your pity.”
“What do you want? Why have you done this for Moriarty?”
“I didn’t do this for him. I did this for me. And my wife.” He gestured to the woman beside him and I saw Cheryl back away from his hand slightly, fear on her face but her eyes still blank- apparently they’d gotten married somewhere in private because I certainly wouldn't have guessed. There wasn’t a ring either.
“You killed Millie Hartley for nothing then?” I asked, this was bizarre.
“Of course not. I'm not a monster.” He hissed. “She saw things; he just wanted you to know that he was watching you.”
“You heard from him directly?” He laughed at me and I took it as a no.
“You think I’m stupid enough to tell you? No, I may be blind but my brain still functions.”
I sighed and closed my eyes.
“Millie died, why?” I was losing patience.
“She saw Cheryl and I together,” a strange smile creeped over his face, “You see Cheryl could never understand what it was like to be blind- she pitied me, much like you do.”
I suddenly understood why Cheryl hadn’t spoken since I’d come in- and what the Blind Man had meant when he’d said that she couldn’t.
“You removed her tongue.” I whispered and he laughed.
“She removed it herself, though I was persuasive. That stupid girl saw what happened so I killed her.” His facial expressions were so complex that it was giving me a headache just trying to follow them.
“Why?” I repeated and he exploded in rage.
“Because she couldn’t love me! Because she didn’t understand what it was like to be someone like me, she had everything and she would never understand until she had nothing.”
“So you did all that, killed her chef, blew up her house, made her cut out her tongue- all to make her empathise with you?! And you say you’re not a monster.”
“I’m not.” He susurrated sharply, I shook my head in disgust.
“Yes you are, you’d do all that to someone so that they would love you.” I looked to Cheryl and finally saw fear in her eyes, something was wrong. I began moving around the perimeter of the room, keeping my eyes locked on the pair. “What I don’t understand is if you went to all this trouble to give me a message then why would you try and knock me off the bridge-” realisation hit me and I felt moronic, “Of course, that wasn’t you.”
“No, though I applaud the man who did- he seemed to know you.”
“Really?” It was probably Moran, James’ right hand.
“He really knows how to put a bomb together that man.” He added quietly, still turning to follow my progress around the room- I checked the window boards and doors and every time I attempted to pry them off or open to no avail.
“You won’t get out now unless you go out the front door- which you’re welcome to do.”
I heard a loud bang from somewhere else on the other side of the small house but didn’t take my eyes off the blind man.
“You’re friends are persistent.” He observed and I smirked, the final realisation coming to me.
“I know,” I sighed, “you’d think that they would’ve given up by now, I mean the entrances are wired aren’t they. I thought that Sherlock might have deduced as much by now- apparently I was wrong though.”
YOU ARE READING
Sherlock Holmes- Meet me on Waterloo (A Sherlock Holmes Fan Fiction)
Fanfiction.... in a world where light is so often ignored it often means everything, after all what would life be without light. We would after all be blind.
