Sophia Holmes and the Scandal in Belgravia *Completed*

Chapter Thirty Four- The Scandal in Belgravia Part XV

We follow them over to Mycroft's house for the negotiations. He sits with Mum at the table while dad and I sit opposite each other in armchairs by the fire, dad's back turned to the table.

"We have people who can get into this," Mycroft says at last, pointing down at the phone placed in the middle of the table.

"I tested that theory for you," mum replies. "I let my daughter try it for six months." I close my eyes briefly and grimace. "Sophia, dear, tell him what you found when you X-rayed my camera phone."

"There are four additional units wired inside the casing," I explain, flatly, "I suspect containing acid or a small amount of explosive. " I watch as Mycroft lowers his head in exasperation before continuing. "Any attempt to open the casing will burn the hard drive."

"Explosive," mum confirms, looking to Mycroft. "It's more me."

Mycroft lifts his head and looks at mum again. "Some data is always recoverable."

"Take that risk?"

"You have a passcode to open this. I deeply regret to say we have people who can extract it from you."

"Sherlock?"

"There will be two passcodes: one to open the phone, one to burn the drive," dad explains. "Even under duress you can't know which one she's given you and there will be no point in a second attempt."

"He's good, isn't he?" Mum smiles. "I should have kept him on a leash – in fact, I might." She gazes intensely over at him, but dad doesn't turn around.

"We destroy this, then," Mycroft settles. "No-one has the information."

"Fine," mum agrees. "Good idea ... unless there are lives of British citizens depending on the information you're about to burn."

"Are there?"

"Telling you would be playing fair," she replies. "I'm not playing any more." Mum reaches into her handbag and takes out an envelope which she pushes across to Mycroft. "A list of my requests," she says, glancing towards me, and I glare back at her, "and some ideas about my protection once they're granted." He takes the sheet of paper from inside the envelope and unfolds it. "I'd say it wouldn't blow much of a hole in the wealth of the nation – but then I'd be lying." Mycroft raises his eyebrows in amazement and he reads through her demands. "I imagine you'd like to sleep on it."

"Thank you," he replies, not taking his eyes off the paper as he reads. "Yes."

"Too bad." Dad smirks in admiration. "Off you pop and talk to people."

"You've been very ... thorough," Mycroft concludes. "I wish our lot were half as good as you."

"I can't take all the credit," mum admits. "Had a bit of help." She looks across to us. "Oh, Jim Moriarty sends his love." The betrayal is clear as dad opens his eyes. So that's where she's been all this time, working as a lapdog for Moriarty, no doubt feeding him information on us.

"Yes," Mycroft says, "he's been in touch. Seems desperate for my attention which I'm sure can be arranged." Mum stands up and walks round the table to sit on the table edge, closer to Mycroft.

"I had all this stuff," she explains, "never knew what to do with it. Thank God for the consultant criminal. Gave me a lot of advice about how to play the Holmes boys. D'you know what he calls you?" She asks, looking at Mycroft before speaking softly. "The Ice Man," she looks across at dad before continuing, "and the Virgin." Virgin? That must mean he still doesn't know about me. Despite everything, mum has still tried to protect me. But that also means she hasn't been giving him information, she's still working to protect us. "Didn't even ask for anything," she continues. "I think he just likes to cause trouble. Now that's my kind of man." Dad sighs softly from his seat, his eyes closed. It's clear he's only half listening, he's trying to figure something out.