deal or no deal | Sherlock Holmes

27

𝐸𝓋𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

"Lord McIntyre." Enola gives him a suspicious look. "What are you doing here?"

"I was summoned." McIntyre looks to Sherlock. "Your brother knew that I would want to see the right people shown justice."

"What?" I whisper.

"Patience dear. Patience." He whispers back to me.

"And I don't know how to thank you for retrieving this government property and, uh, bringing this killer to light." He smiles weirdly. He is a creeper that's for sure. "A rot amongst our ranks. The world shall know the name Enola Holmes, I'll make sure of it." He looks stage left at Lestrade. When did he get here? "Lestrade, arrest that girl."

"She's done nothing wrong." I struggle to get my words out making Sherlock give me a concerned look.

"On what charge, sir?" Lestrade asks.

"Theft." McIntyre spits.

"All she stole from you was the truth." Enola says with just as much venom in her voice.

"She took personal information, which she used for extortion and blackmail." McIntyre walks up and snatches the papers out of Sarah's hand. She totally could've held onto them better. "Which is why she will serve her time."

"Ah. But you are mistaken." Sherlock speaks up. "She was not your blackmailer." He walks to the edge of the stage. "I summoned you here to draw that very person out. The accounting was masterful. A tangle of roots, but all pointed to one pocket." He walks back towards us. He wears his famous grin. The one he gets when he's figured it out. "One person receiving the fruits of their schemes with no one noticing."

"Hearing everything," Enola thinks. "—seeing everything. Ignored for years."

"Playing them all." Sherlock confirms.

"It's all a game." Enola recalls. She gathers herself before saying, "Miss Mira Troy."

McIntyre scoffs. "Absurd. Oh, I don't believe it."

"It's remarkable—" Mira Troy emerges from the shadows "—what can be done when people underestimate you."

"And then came the problem." Enola trails off. "William stole the contract."

"He threatened to cut off your money train."
Sherlock adds.

"And you couldn't have that." I mumble.

"You hired Grail to retrieve the document, but things got out of hand, so you tried to point us to Lord McIntyre. A rare misstep in your game...Moriarty." I gulp at Sherlock's words. I didn't see this coming at all.

I scramble the letters in my head.
M. O. R. I. A. R. T. Y.
Mira Troy.

"Such a shame our divertissement has to end, Mr. Holmes." Mira smirks, unfazed by the fact that she's been revealed. "I was so enjoying it. And you, Enola."

"Miss Troy, you have been behind this?" McIntyre scowls at her.

"Of course, you never can find the proper staff. I only wanted the agreements back. Though I couldn't be seen to question William myself, you were so obliging." She smirks at Enola, making the younger Holmes sibling gulp. "Just a pity he was smarter and braver in the end than I'd expected." She looks to Sarah. "They both were. Their deaths were so unnecessary. But Superintendent Grail was somewhat of a blunt instrument." I see the corners of Sherlock's lips turn up.

"You!" McIntyre gasps. "How dare you take advantage of your position!"

Mira's face hardens. "I take advantage? What were my advantages? Treated like a common servant when I have twice the mind of yours. Any of yours." Well that was just mean. "Why shouldn't I have a share of your ill-begotten riches and punish you at the same time? Why shouldn't I be rewarded for what I can do? Where is my place in this... society? I am a woman. I cannot join clubs, I cannot own shares, I cannot advance myself as they can." She looks to Sherlock and I. Her eyes are piercing. Like daggers. "So... I found my own way. And it was fun." Her grin is so sinister.

"Lestrade," McIntyre speaks gruffly. "—take her away."

"Yes, sir." Lestrade pauses. "On what charge, sir?"

"Extortion." He spits. "Blackmail, murder."

Go.

"Such a shame our little dance has to end." She smirks as they handcuff her. "For now at least. Perhaps we shall take to the floor again." And with that they take her away.

I feel peace for a moment. But then the pain in my side comes rushing back.

It's silent for a moment until Sarah starts screaming. McIntyre has burnt the documents. "Well, there. That's that then. I accidentally burnt my own property. What of it?"

"You are corrupt, sir." I spit through gritted teeth as I grip onto Sherlock's suit jacket.

"Darling what is wrong with you?" He whispers as he sees me struggle.

"And complicit in the deaths of hundreds of match girls." Sarah spits as she stares at the flames.

"Where is your proof?" He teases making Sarah sniffle. "Good. So... back to business." He then leaves.

"Sir, you cannot..." Tewkesbury starts.

"Tewkesbury." Sherlock speaks up. "Patience." He's silent for a moment. He kneels down and swipes the ground. A drop of blood slides down his fingers.

I start to feel more dizzy than I did before. That's when I remember the paper. My blood could stain it! I try to reach into my pocket but it's as if my brain isn't sending the signals to my hands properly. I eventually get it out and scan it once more.

Toille. It's not a Newspaper. It's a name.

I stumble as pain shoots through my bullet wound. I scream out in pain as I clutch my side.

"No! No! No!" I can faintly hear Tewkesbury.

"Darling?" Sherlock kneels beside me, he turns my head to look at him but my vision is blurry. "W-What happened to her?" Sherlock's voice is shaky. I've never heard him sound so panicked.

The Lord stammers."S-She was shot—"

"By whom?!" Sherlock raises his voice. "Why did no one say anything? Do you realize-"

I loosen my grip on the newspaper and stare at the word, Toille. Toille is my Moriarty. That's when it clicks. I feel for Sherlock's hand and squeeze it as hard as I can. His head appears above me to where I can see him better. He's saying something but my ears are ringing.

Though I am most likely dying in this moment I needed to figure this out while it was fresh on my mind. I've always been best at word scrambles. It's my specialty. Everyone knows that. Whoever sent this was wanting to send a message, they want me to know who they are. I can't solve the full crime but he can.

Toille spelt backwards is Elliot and Elliot is my father's name. I use my bloody finger and circle the name. I clutch tightly onto Sherlock's hand. "Find him." I whisper before falling into the unknown.