The Unexpected Coincidence (13 page)

“She didn't see
anything. It could be any car.”

“Not even a
colour?” Mycroft asked, knowing women seemed to notice that first
when it came to vehicles.

“Wait... Oh... the
clue was there all along. Urggh, I'm such an idiot.”

“Sherlock?”

“Amelia mentioned
that there was a car that followed her and waited outside her
restaurant the night she got the third letter. The one slipped into
her handbag.”

“Then I can find
it. I'll call you.” Mycroft hung up and immediately dialled the
agent who'd been following her that night. Less than five minutes
later he had the car registration. A black Audi under the name
Kevin Merton. A minute after that his personal assistant was
running a check on the name and car registration while he surveyed
the video footage of Baker Street.

It didn't take him
long to spot the car on screen, and he moved through the camera
feeds until he had enough of an idea where Merton was taking her
that Sherlock could get going. While watching the next few cameras
along the road, he called his brother back.

“He took her
north-west, towards Warwick Avenue and Abbey Road.”

“So you're sending
me after her, then?” Sherlock said, but Mycroft heard the sound of
the flat door slamming shut and Sherlock's feet hammering out a
quick step down the stairs.

“Need I remind you
that you had offered to take care of her? And you know footwork's
not my sort of thing.”

“It never has
been, brother of mine.”

Mycroft heard
Sherlock get into a taxi and tell the driver to head for Warwick
Avenue. Knowing his brother was on the way, he relaxed a little and
concentrated on watching the Audi on the CCTV footage.

“Manor House
Court, Warrington Gardens,” Mycroft said when the car pulled over.
Here the camera was set back far enough that he could see the
vehicle drive into the garage underneath the block of flats.

“I'm going to need
a flat number,” Sherlock said after relaying the information to the
taxi driver.

“I'm aware.”

Although it was
normally the sort of thing his brother did, Mycroft searched the
database of residents for any who might be related to Kevin but out
at work or on holiday. Most were young workers who had no
connection to the young man from Bath, but a few raised possible
flags. As he was trying to narrow them down, he received an email
from his secretary.

Kevin Merton
has recently put down a deposit on flat 34 Manor House Court,
Warrington Gardens. He also recently purchased the car, with
cash.

Pleased at the
speed of his assistant, Mycroft gave Sherlock the number.

“Good. I'll talk
to you later.” His younger brother hung up, leaving him sitting in
his study wondering what might be happening. He felt a little
disgruntled that he'd been exploring the wrong path of enquiry
concerning the likely flat, trying to find it through connections
rather than the man himself, but knew he'd asked the assistant to
help to ensure no angle was missed. She'd done her job well and he
didn't normally have to perform under such pressure.

While he waited
for Sherlock to inform him of Amelia's state, Mycroft paced back
and forth across the study floor. Each time he came towards his
desk, his eyes fixed on the letter Merton had sent Amelia.

The man evidently
sought to control Amelia out of his own deep-seated insecurities
and desire for power. He was the exact opposite of what a man
should be when presented with power, and Mycroft spent almost every
day combating men just like him. Admittedly, they normally had
significantly more power, but they were the same.

While men of
honour, like him, used their control and power to protect people
and better society, men like Merton used their control and power to
intimidate and get their own desires, bending the will of others
until they broke under the strain. Mycroft would see him stopped
and Amelia protected.

***

Fear rippled
through Amelia as Kevin stepped closer. Her eyes never left the
knife in his right hand.

“I'm your Dalton.
The man you've always wanted in your life, and you're going to be
my Amelia and be a good girl. But you've pushed me too far and
right now I need to teach you a lesson. This is for your own
good.”

She tried to pull
back from him as he came closer, but the wall wouldn't give, no
matter how much she dug her feet into the carpet and pushed herself
back into it.

The sound of a
door crashing open stopped Kevin's advancement.

“In here!” Amelia
yelled, hoping it was one of the Holmes brothers. In that moment
she didn't care which. Kevin growled and lunged at her with the
knife. As she pulled herself to the side, she screamed. A hand
clamped down on her shoulder and he used his body to try and hold
her still, but before he could do her any harm two strong arms
wrapped around his middle and pulled him off.

Kevin flew onto
the bed, but not before he'd brought the knife down into
Sebastian's arm. The younger Holmes brother grunted in pain but
pulled the weapon out and threw it to one side as Kevin recovered
and found his feet again.

Trying to stand,
Amelia scrabbled against the wall and floor. Eventually, she'd
levered herself upright and watched as Sebastian tackled Kevin,
sending him into the wardrobe, which broke under the force of the
impact and revealed the few sets of clothing and other items.

Several growls and
grunts filled the room as the pair wrestled until a well-aimed
right hook from Sebastian sent Kevin down for the count, right in
front of the wreckage of the wardrobe. She watched as he checked
her stalker's pulse and nodded in satisfaction.

“I think the
police can deal with him from here,” Sebastian said and smiled at
her. She nodded gratefully and wobbled as her legs and head
protested. Less than a second later Sebastian's arms were around
her and she was resting her head against his chest.

“It's over now.
You're safe again.”

Tears stung her
eyes and she let out a deep breath. After being worried and nervous
for so long she felt weightless now she knew who her stalker was
and that he wouldn't be able to hurt her anymore.

As her relieved
mind kicked back into gear she remembered that Sebastian had been
stabbed, but she could see his arm while he held her. The skin was
smooth, and only a small amount of dried blood showed where the
knife had gone in. Her eyes went wide, but she didn't say anything.
Adrenaline still pumped through her quick enough to keep her mind
one step ahead of her mouth.

“I'm sorry I
didn't get to you sooner,” Sebastian said as he let her go.

“It was quicker
than I expected. How did you know where to find me?”

“My brother. He
found the car and followed it on all those cameras he has access
to.”

“Wow,” she said,
trying not to stare at his arm and let him know she'd seen him
heal.

Thankfully, the
police came hurrying in, followed by two paramedics, and distracted
both of them from each other. Sebastian went into his official
mode, something she'd only seen him do twice before, and told the
police what they needed to know while both she and Kevin were seen
to by a paramedic each.

When Kevin showed
signs of coming back to the waking world the police read him his
rights and took him away. He didn't look at her and she ignored
him.

Only the wound on
her eyebrow and the bruises Kevin had caused on her face needed
seeing to, but her stitches were still in well enough that the
woman tending her didn't think she needed to go get them done
again. The police then asked her a few questions, mostly to confirm
that events had happened the way Sebastian had already told them.
They must have been used to handling cases where he was involved,
because they didn't question how he knew what had happened while he
wasn't there. Once she'd confirmed that Kevin had hit her twice and
threatened her with the switchblade after taking her from Baker
Street, they let Sebastian take her home.

Mrs Wintern came
rushing out of her flat as soon as she heard the door open, and
Amelia gave the elderly landlady a small smile.

“Oh my,” she said
as she saw the swelling bruises on the side of her face. “I'll make
you some tea, and get some painkillers.”

Sebastian chuckled
as she hurried away again.

“Tea solves
everything,” he whispered in Amelia's ear as he followed her up the
stairs. A smile flitted across her face until the pain of moving
her cheeks made her wince.

Once she was sat
in the extra armchair in the living room, Sebastian fetched her a
blanket and arranged it over her lap. Before either of them could
do anything else, Mrs Wintern returned with the usual tray.

“None for me,
thanks. I'm off out again,” Sebastian said as she set it down
beside Amelia and poured the tea.

“You can't go out
and leave her like this! She's just had a scare.”

“It's all right,
Mrs Wintern, really, it is. I'm in the mood for some television,
and it's not really Sebastian's thing, is it?” Amelia took the
offered tea. “Would you mind having some company while you watch
your evening programs?”

“No, not at all,
love.”

“There, you can
watch them up here on my television. Amelia won't be alone, and you
can bond over the dramatic lives of fictional, larger than life,
characters,” Sebastian said with as much fake enthusiasm and
sarcasm as he usually used when talking about anything on the
TV.

Amelia and Mrs
Wintern smiled, knowing that was the way he was. If Amelia was
honest, the soaps were a bit too much for her as well, but they
could be on in the background while she thought about what she'd
seen and waited for the painkillers to dull her headache.

If nothing else,
going over the strange occurrence with Sebastian's arm would keep
her from thinking about the rest of the events of the day. While
the memories were fresh, it would be harder to be emotionally
rational.

At first she'd
wondered if Kevin had missed Sebastian's arm with the knife, but
she knew he hadn't. Not only did he have blood on his arm, but the
knife had some on as well; she'd seen it when the policeman had
taken it as evidence. The blade hadn't been used on anyone else, so
it had to be Sebastian's blood.

The more she
thought about it the more she realised something similar had
happened with Myron when she'd been kidnapped with him. A large,
blood-soaked gash had appeared in his shirt. He'd told her it
wasn't his blood but that of the Russian he'd fought. Now she
wondered if that had been a lie as well.

Whatever the
explanation for it, she knew without a doubt, the Holmes brothers
were hiding something, and she intended to find out their
secret.

***

A message from the
police had finally allowed Mycroft to relax and know Amelia was
safe once more. It didn't surprise him that his brother hadn't said
anything. Sherlock only informed him when something wasn't
satisfactory, not when it was.

Despite that, he
hadn't expected his brother to visit him and almost dropped his tea
cup when the younger Holmes strode into his study. Without saying a
word, Sherlock sat in the nearest armchair.

“I assume Miss
Jones is safe?”

“Oh, of course.
She's got quite a bruise on her, going to ruin her looks for a week
or so, but she'll recover.”

Mycroft nodded and
waited. Something wasn't right, and it would come out in due time.
If it was time-sensitive it would have been said already. After a
minute of sitting there with his eyebrows bunched forward together
and his head rested on his arched hands, Sherlock seemed to
remember he was in Mycroft's company. He reached into the inside
pocket of his coat and threw something small and shiny at
Mycroft.

Raising his
eyebrows, Mycroft caught the coin. He didn't really need to look at
it to know it was another seven and a half ruble coin.

“The boy?”

Sherlock nodded.
Mycroft closed his eyes for a moment. It was the only outward sign
that he'd received bad news.

“Many?”

“Enough. They were
in the wardrobe. Noticed them when his body broke the side. I'd say
it was a rather unexpected coincidence, but neither of us believe
in coincidences.”

“Where are they
now?”

“Safe.”

“Good. Keep this
between us, brother of mine.”

“And Amelia?”

“We'll
both
keep her safe.”

Sherlock nodded at
this reassurance. They both knew it might not be possible. Neither
of them knew enough about what they were up against. But he also
knew his brother was asking him to protect a person caught up in
their affairs and he'd just promised to do it, something he
wouldn't normally have done.

Now it seemed he
had an agreement with both of them to teach her as much as she
could learn, but he knew when she'd requested to be taught she'd
not expected her life to depend on her results.

Just as Sherlock
had shown himself in, he saw himself out, leaving Mycroft once more
alone in his study. There was nothing more to be said.

Mycroft sat there
for several more minutes staring at the Russian coin. The same
person behind the terrorist attack on London had funded Amelia's
stalker. Whoever they were, he had put the young author on their
radar and now they wanted to hurt her.

When the email
from the most powerful voice in the UK had come through and told
him to drop the matter, he'd considered doing so. And as long as
the UK itself was safe, that would have been enough, but now he had
a conflict. Did he follow the monarch and country as he always had,
and keep his promise to the crown, or did he break that promise and
do what he needed to keep Amelia safe and keep his word with his
brother?