The Doctor's Daughter | Wholock {1}

Chapter 25: Change of Plans

To say Sherlock was annoyed would be a great understatement. Lestrade had pestered him with questions at Scotland Yard, asking how many leads Sherlock had and if he needed any assistants. Sherlock had rolled his eyes and said he had it under control. Lestrade had warned Sherlock to not go after Moriarty alone and to keep him posted, which Sherlock had no intention of doing—what would he tell Lestrade? That John's unborn daughter had come back in time and helped him catch the master criminal? No, Lestrade would have to settle for hearing about it on the evening news.

The contents of the package Kimmy found were now pinned to the wall beside the spray-painted smiley face, where Sherlock could see them all at once. There was a note that simply said you're one step closer, but it was the rest of the contents that were actually helpful: over a dozen pictures, all of which showed different parts of a house. Several featured bedrooms, others sitting rooms, and one even showed a swimming pool. If Sherlock's theory was correct, the photos would lead them to where Moriarty was holding Mary and the Doctor.

The house was at least four bedrooms, so fairly large. A staircase was barely visible in the corner of one sitting room photo—at least two stories. The architecture of the fireplace and the entryway said the house was fairly old, but the swimming pool and the light fixtures were new, so it had been renovated fairly recently. No other buildings could be seen through the windows, so it was isolated. Sherlock had contacted his homeless network and told them what to look for; hopefully they would be quick in finding the house. They only had twenty hours left.

The silence of 221B was broken by the sound of Kimmy's mobile phone ringing. Sherlock looked over his shoulder at Kimmy, who was sitting in the detective's favorite chair. She pulled her phone out of her pocket—she's changed back into her old clothes as soon as they'd returned to the flat—and looked at the screen before answering it. "It's him," she said, looking up at Sherlock.

"Put it on speaker," Sherlock instructed, walking over and standing beside her.

She obeyed, holding the phone between them. "What do you want?" she asked.

"Well, hello to you too, Kimberly," Moriarty's voice replied. "Is Sherlock there?"

Kimmy started to reply, but Sherlock cut her off. "I'm here."

"I'm impressed with you, Sherlock," Moriarty said. "You solved my cipher father than I thought you would."

"I figured it out," Kimmy pointed out, "not him."

"Really?" Moriarty actually sounded shocked. "You must be losing your touch, Sherlock, if a sixteen-year-old can outsmart you."

"Seventeen!" Kimmy corrected, sounding offended.

"Don't shout, Kimberly, you don't want Mrs. Hudson to hear you," Moriarty replied.

"How are you even alive?" Sherlock asked. "I watched you shoot yourself in the head."

"All questions will be answered in due time," the master criminal answered. "Provided you can find me in the next eight hours, of course."

"No, we have twenty hours left," Kimmy said, looking panicked.

"Sorry, honey, but there's been a change of plans." Moriarty actually sounded amused. "Since you two are doing such a good job solving my puzzles, I've decided to take twelve hours off of your remaining time. If you don't show up, I'm going to put a bullet into the Doctor's head and then I'm going to put one into Mary's."

Kimmy looked as furious as Sherlock felt. "You pathetic, heartless, son of a—" The line went dead before she could continue. Kimmy looked ready to throw the phone across the flat, but she never did. Instead, she just shoved the phone back into her pocket and said, "We'll find them." Sherlock thought she was talking to herself, but then she looked at him and asked, "We will, won't we?"

Sherlock took a deep breath before replying. He knew the chances of his homeless network finding the house in time was slim. "I don't know," he answered, "but we're going to do everything in our power to."