It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

38 - A Close Call

Sherlock had followed after Elizabeth and Charles but the busy room made it significantly harder to do so. Out of worry more so for his brother, Mycroft pursued the detective. They had headed up the staircase to the first floor corridor and then listened. They hadn't seen which room they had slipped into so listen was all they could do.

They had heard shouting coming form one of the rooms on the right and had made their way down the corridor quietly so as to not alarm Charles. But then they saw the one door open briefly and shut abruptly, accompanied by what sounded like Elizabeth's muffled scream.

Sherlock felt his stomach turn and sprinted to the door, using his shoulder to force it open. He saw Charles suffocating Elizabeth and felt the anger rise in him.

"Let go of her now!" He snapped fiercely, a fire in his eyes.

Mycroft made his way into the room carefully too, "Charles, please let go of Mrs Ashby." He instructed also.

Sheer panic washed over the forty-year-old's face at the sight of them both and he let go of her without argument. Elizabeth gasped for air and stumbled over to Sherlock who took her in his arms, still glaring at Mr Armistead. Charles stumbled back against his dresser, looking like a trapped animal.

Sherlock looked at the thief concerned, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." She nodded, just relieved she breathe again.

"Mycroft, why are you here?" Charles asked him more directly now.

"Wasn't that hard to just ask him yourself, was it?" Elizabeth scowled.

"Charles, you know why I'm here - to celebrate your birthday. There's no real reason to act so erratic unless you're convinced you've done something wrong." He paused, quirking an eyebrow, "Have you?"

Charles shook his head, his hand travelling into the top drawer of the dresser behind him.

"You know, don't you? Mycroft, it wasn't me, I swear, they made me." He shook his head, hysteria rising in his tone, "You weren't supposed to know. They said you wouldn't know."

"Charles, you're overreacting. Whatever you think I'm going to do, it's not as drastic as what your mind is telling you. Who made you create the offshore account? If you can tell me that then I don't believe we'll have any issues."

"I can't tell you. They'll kill me. They said they would kill me if anyone found out." Charles pulled a gun out from the drawer behind him and aimed it at the three.

Each of their eyes seemed to grow as they took a step back, hands up in defence.

"Charles, we are not here to harm you. If you can help us, we can make sure the others won't harm you either but you need to put the gun down."

"I don't believe you. I'm sorry, Mycroft, but you weren't meant to know." He cocked the gun, hands shaking as he kept the barrel pointed at Mycroft, "If you're gone, no one will know - then they won't kill me. They won't do it if you're gone."

"Mr Armistead, please, there's no need to do this!" Elizabeth pleaded with the man.

"Think about it, Mr Armistead, you'll go to prison if you kill us while the people you're protecting get off scot-free. That hardly seems fair to you, surely?" Sherlock tried to reason with him.

"I'm sorry but I can't let you know - I can't."

As Charles's finger squeezed the trigger, time seemed to slow. Sherlock moved towards him while Elizabeth ducked to the side in order to push Mycroft out of the way of the bullet's path.

The older Holmes stumbled into the wall, Elizabeth next to him as the metal round embedded itself in the wood of the door frame. Sherlock successfully managed to take the gun off of Charles and emptied the bullet chamber before chucking the weapon to the other side of the room.

Charles was sobbing, his hands over his eyes as he sunk to the floor, clearly in emotional agony over the entire situation.

The other three paused for moment, just sharing a look with each other.

Sherlock was thankful that Elizabeth had helped Mycroft despite having no real obligation to do so. If anything, had she just left it, she might have found herself a free woman. But she was changing - she valued others lives over herself. Perhaps it was an impulsive decision as had been the one before but, he thought this one was more reflective of her morals.

Mycroft, too, was grateful that he was pushed out of the way - just impressed that Elizabeth had been the one to do so. So impressed, almost, that he questioned if he was in the wrong and that for once, Sherlock may have been right. Unless she did it just to get on his good side? All the same, he would remain objective in the matter.

Elizabeth was just glad she wasn't dead.

"Well, thank you, Mrs Ashby." Mycroft stood up from against the wall, straightening his suit, "This could have been a very unfortunate series of events, Mr Armistead, had the others not been here."

All Charles kept muttering into his shaking hands was, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

There was a loud, intimidating knock at the bedroom door. Elizabeth went to open it, seeing a guard stood outside, a taser at the ready. She let him in to see the chaos. Not like she could stop him.

"Mr Armistead, sir, are you all right?" The guard asked.

But Charles kept on repeating apologies like a stuck record.

The guard questioned what had happened. Mycroft took the time to handle it, of course, leaving out the part where Sherlock and Elizabeth had actually broken into his office to get the evidence against him.

Elizabeth felt bad for Charles. She could see that he was just a very scared man. He hadn't meant to harm anyone. But the mind was a powerful thing and having already been a paranoiac, she couldn't imagine how much more on edge that made him. While he had just committed attempted murder, Elizabeth hoped they would go easy on Mr Armistead, knowing he had been shaken up by the people who had seemed to forcefully involve him.

The guard had said he would take care of the situation and allowed the three to leave, thankfully seeing no reason to keep them after Mycroft had explained. In fact, he was very caring. He seemed genuinely concerned for the wellbeing of all involved.

Mr Armistead's security organised to have the party cut short seeing as Charles didn't want to leave his room. The three left in front of the crowd of disappointed guests, just happy they wouldn't have to wait in traffic to leave.

They spoke a small bit as their car left the grounds of the Manor.

"I wanted to thank you again, Miss Parrish." Mycroft spoke up, unexpectedly, "For the assist."

She nodded, "No problem...thank you both for not abandoning me."

"How could we? You had the evidence." Mycroft replied.

Wow, she thought, bit of a cold shoulder much? Especially after she had just saved him from certain death. Her mind travelled back to Shaun at the previous party and how she had only felt like information then too.

"Right. Yeah." She looked out of the window.

"Are you okay though?" Sherlock asked her again, wanting to be a bit warmer to her unlike his brother.

"Fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Sherlock. I've been through worse."

Sherlock nodded, feeling uncomfortable between his brother and the thief.

It was a quiet journey home.

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A/N - sorry for the short chapter! Didn't seem right to continue past it 😊