Clique of 221B

Chapter 35: A New Game

"Sherlock, take the gun. It's your turn next." Sherlock pauses and looks at you. "When I tell you to use it – and I will – remember what happened this time." Sherlock looks down at the gun in your hand,
"What if I don't want a gun?"
"Oh, the gun is intended as a mercy."
"For whom?"
"For you." He turns his head to her.
"How so?"
"If someone else had to die, would you really want to do it with your bare hands? It would waste valuable time." Sherlock turns to John. Mycroft stares at him, wide-eyed, he hasn't looked at you yet. John looks away,
"Probably just take it." Sherlock steps over to you,
"Are you alright?" You look up at him, confused.
"Hm? Oh, yes." He stares at you a moment before taking the gun from your hand. He opens it and checks inside,
"There's only one bullet left."
"You will only need one. But you will need it." On the wall beside you a panel slides sideways which reveals a narrow passageway. "Please, go through. There's a few tasks for you, and a girl on a plane is getting very, very scared." Sherlock turns and walks towards the opening, then stops in the entrance and turns back to face Mycroft.
"Treats?"
"Yes. You know, a violin." Or James Moriarty. You know the typical Christmas presents.
"In exchange for?"
"She's very clever."
"I'm beginning to think you're not." My thoughts exactly. The lights turn red as you see Mycroft lower his head, and Jim's voice sounds over the speakers.
"Come on now! Aaaaaall aboard! Choo-choo! Choo-choo!" Sherlock turns and walks down the corridor, you and John follow him. Jim continues to make choo-choo noises. You glance back at Mycroft who is looking down at the governor's body. You all walk down the narrow grey corridor and then into a room which is much smaller than the cell you were previously in. The room has been messily covered with red paint so that it looks like they're heavily smeared with blood. Nice aesthetic. You all survey the room.
"Someone's been redecorating." Sherlock comments.
"Is that allowed?" John asks.
"She's literally taken over the asylum. We have more to worry about than her choice of colour scheme. Nice shade of red though." You say. You look at the far end of the room where there's a large window looking out over the sea. A small glass table is in the centre of the room and there is an envelope on it. Mycroft runs his fingers over the wall,
"Barely dry. Recent."
"It's for our benefit." Sherlock says.
"And dramatic effect." You add. On the wall there is a large screen which now turns on and Eurus - my new favourite psychopath - appears on it.
"As a motivator to your continued co-operation, I'm now reconnecting you." She lifts the remote control and clicks it. Jim's voice comes over the speaker,
"Fasten your seatbelts! It's gonna be a bumpy night." You hear a brief screech of static and then the little girl's voice says,
"Are you still there?"
"Yes, hello? Hello. We're still here. Can you hear us?" Sherlock calls out to her.
"Yes."
"Everything's gonna be all right. I just need you to tell me where you are. Outside, is it day or night?"
"Night." You see Mycroft fold his arms,
"That certainly narrows it down to half the planet." You and Sherlock glare at him as you ask her,
"What kind of a plane are you on?"
"Um, I don't know."
"Is it big or small?" John asks.
"Big."
"Lots of people on it?"
"Lots and lots, but they're all asleep. I can't wake them up."
"Where did you take off from?"
"Even the driver's asleep."
"No, I understand - but where did you come from? Where did the plane take off?"
"My nan's."
"And where are you going?"
"Home."
"No, I mean what airport are you-"  A click interrupts him, and Eurus' face reappears on the screen,
"Enough for now. Time to play a new game. Look on the table in front of you." You, Sherlock and John stand at the side of the table. Mycroft is stood a few paces away with his arms still folded. "Open the envelope! If you want to speak to the girl again, earn yourself some phone time!" She snaps. Sherlock puts the gun down on the table and picks up the envelope.
"This is inhuman, this is insane!" Mycroft protests. John looks at him firmly,
"Mycroft, we know." Mycroft lowers his head, exasperated. Sherlock opens the envelope and you spread the contents out over the tabletop.
"Six months ago, a man called Evans was murdered, unsolved except by me." Clever girl, do you want a sticker? You look at the three glossy photographs in front of you. A bright light comes on at the end of a beam above your heads. You look up and see a hunting rifle resting in a rack attached to the side of the beam. "He was shot from a distance of three hundred metres with this rifle." Sherlock stretches up and takes down the gun. "Now, if the police had any brains they'd realise there are three suspects, all brothers. Nathan Garrideb, Alex Garrideb and Howard Garrideb." Each photo is of a different man. The first is in an outdoor car park and the word "NATHAN" has been written on the picture. The second man is standing talking on his phone in an office, and the photo is labelled "ALEX". The third man is walking near rocky cliffs and his picture is labelled "HOWARD". Above the three photos the envelope has the word "EVANS" written on it.
"All these photos are up to date, but which one pulled the trigger, Sherlock? Which one?" So she wants us to solve it? Too easy. She's got some twist planned, I know it.