‹ Prequel: Sherlock's Girl
The New Generation
Revenge is Sweet
Lydia sat in the Police interrogation room, at Scotland Yard. Her hands were handcuffed in front of her and resting on the table. She sat with a blank expression, her head resting against her chest.
She had told them everything, she had confessed to killing the idiotic supply teacher, confessed to attempting to kill Sapphire on several occasions. She confessed to shooting the arsehole that left her father’s dead body without taking any revenge on his killer. She admitted to plotting the murder of John Watson, and committing several other murders.
Unfortunately those attempts at killing Sapphire had failed. Sapphire had not fallen for the false trail like the great Sherlock Holmes had. But Lydia didn’t blame him; she had set up the game for Sapphire.
Thanks to Sapphire Doyle-Holmes, she was now sitting in handcuffs and her every move being watched. Her father had warned her about the Holmes brothers, she assumes at least Mycroft stood behind the one way mirror, or the Ice Man as her dad had called him.
Her father hadn’t told her about Sapphire, but he didn’t know the girl long enough before Sherlock had shot him. So he hadn’t had chance to tell Lydia about Sapphire.
She found out about her when of his father’s henchmen returned and reported that Moriarty was dead.
He came in the room, trembling, sweat dripping off his forehead. He stopped in the door way. Lydia looked up at him. “What is it? Where is my father?” Lydia asked.
The man swallowed the bile that collected in his throat. “I need to speak to your mother first.” The man stuttered.
Lydia stood, and walked towards the man. Slowly she walked round the trembling man. “You will tell me now! My mother can know once I know.” She picked up a blade from a table nearby. “You either tell me or I get people to force it out of you.”
The man nodded. “Okay Miss Moriarty. But please take a seat first.”
With this Lydia knew it was going to be bad news, she returned to the sofa she had been sitting on and nodded for the man to continue. The man gulped, “I had been asked to escort Dr Watson outside. So that only Mr Holmes, your father and the girl remained...”
“The girl? What girl?” Lydia asked. She knew her father had gone to make sure Sherlock Holmes actually died this time, but she knew nothing about any girl.
“Sapphire Doyle, Sherlock’s adopted daughter. Your father used her as bait to lure Sherlock.” He explained. He paused for a moment to let Lydia grasp the fact that the cold hearted, emotionless Sherlock Holmes had a daughter. Lydia nodded for the man to continue.
“So I stayed with Dr Watson, I am not completely sure what happened, but some time passed then I heard 2 shots fire. I looked through the house window to see what happened. And I... Ummm... Saw your father on the floor with a gunshot wound through his chest, the girl was also on the floor bleeding but still breathing. And Mr Holmes was dropping his gun.” Lydia was in floods of tears, her father was dead, killed by his enemy that he had an unhealthy obsession with. The man spoke again, “I didn’t know what to do so I came straight back here.”
Lydia’s head snapped up, her tears stopped like a tap being shut off. “You ran.” She snarled. “You could have shot Holmes! You could have completed my father’s work and avenged his death! But no, you ran!” She was furious, and despite only being 12, the men were terrified of her.
“Please Miss Moriarty. I panicked. Please show mercy.” The man begged on his knees in front of the girl.
Lydia rose from the sofa, and walked to the fireplace. Her back was turned from the sobbing man on the floor. “Show you mercy?” Lydia turned and smiled. The gun in her hand fired and hit the man square between the eyes.
“I shall not show you mercy!” she screamed at the dead body.
She felt the need from that day forward to take over her father’s business, but her mother still forced her to go to school. But she kept the Consulting Criminal business going as the heir to Jim Moriarty.
She went to school to please her mother. But for a year she planned to take revenge. She would take the most important people away from Sherlock Holmes. First Sapphire, the brat that survived, and then when Sherlock was crushed, she would take away John as well. Her plan had gone well, until she ended up in handcuffs, sitting in an interrogation room.
A smile formed on her face. Lydia heard movement in the corridor outside, she brought her head up and looked straight at the mirror.
“She will die!” She screamed at the mirror. “Holmes will be crushed, and I assure you that!” Her head flung back as she burst into fits of laughter.
***
In the next room Mycroft sat and watched the child. The whole scene was far too familiar. The girl just sat there; not moving, slumped in her chair.
A smile formed on her face. John entered the room just as her head snapped up; she stared straight at the mirror. Unaware she was looking straight into Mycroft’s eyes.
“She will die! Holmes will be crushed and I assure you that!” She screamed at the mirror, then her head flung back, and she broke into fits of laughter.
“She has gone insane, hasn’t she?” John asked standing next to Mycroft.
“Yes she was diagnosed earlier. An escort is on his way to take her to a hospital for the criminally insane. And I am making sure she doesn’t come out.” Mycroft said glancing at John.
“Are you going to talk to her or leave it?” John asked.
“Talk to the girl, of course. I want to know about her life, and the criminal society she took over from her father, our good friend Jim Moriarty.” Mycroft said.
“Wait... Her father? She told me her surname was Moran.” John quizzed.
“Ahh, well her mother made the child use her maiden name, so she was impossible to trace her back to Moriarty.” Mycroft picked up a file off the table next to him and started reading aloud from it. “Lydia Jane Moran- Moriarty, daughter of Sabrina Moran and Jim Moriarty. Born on the 12th June 1999. She controls a large criminal organisation and is only 13. She has confessed to several murders including the murder of the school supply teacher. We have ourselves a master criminal in the making. But it seems the new generation couldn’t quite take the pressure, as she has gone insane aged 13. But it seems we have a new generation of Consulting Detectives, unfortunately.” Mycroft sighed.
“Why are you doing this Mycroft? Had this been any other criminal they would not be spending their live in a hospital for the criminally insane. Why the change of heart?” John asked.
Mycroft straightened, and rolled his eyes. “Because John, I may not care for the Sapphire girl but Sherlock does. If I let Miss Moriarty out, she will hunt down Sapphire and she will kill her. If that happened Sherlock would blame me and hunt me down. So I may not care for Sapphire but I value my own life. Besides like I told you the first time we met; I do worry about Sherlock. And if Sapphire was killed it would destroy him, so it is best to be safe than sorry, and lock the girl up.”
John nodded. “It would. Just when you talk to her don’t make the same mistakes that you made with Moriarty. Tell her nothing about Sapphire or Sherlock. You don’t wasn’t the same consequences to happen.” John warned.
“I have learned my lesson John. I won’t be making that mistake ever again.” Mycroft said.
Ever since he told Moriarty all those things about their childhood, he had felt extremely guilty of his actions. And when Sherlock committed suicide that was it he felt extremely guilty. Mycroft was now extremely was now extremely compliant with anything Sherlock asked.
“Well, I am glad Mycroft. I will stay and watch if you don’t mind. Sherlock wants to be updated, but he won’t leave Sapphire at the moment. I wish you luck.” John said.
Mycroft nodded and left the room. Two minutes later he appeared in the interrogation room. Lydia was still sat laughing.
Mycroft cleared his throat, Lydia’s laughter fell silent, and her head rolled on her shoulders until she faced Mycroft who still stood at the door. Her expression was quite terrifying; she looked like she was drugged.
“The Ice Man. Hello” She slurred. Mycroft ignored her.
“Miss Moriarty, I would like to ask you some questions.” Mycroft said, as he fully entered the room, and slowly the door closed behind him.
She had told them everything, she had confessed to killing the idiotic supply teacher, confessed to attempting to kill Sapphire on several occasions. She confessed to shooting the arsehole that left her father’s dead body without taking any revenge on his killer. She admitted to plotting the murder of John Watson, and committing several other murders.
Unfortunately those attempts at killing Sapphire had failed. Sapphire had not fallen for the false trail like the great Sherlock Holmes had. But Lydia didn’t blame him; she had set up the game for Sapphire.
Thanks to Sapphire Doyle-Holmes, she was now sitting in handcuffs and her every move being watched. Her father had warned her about the Holmes brothers, she assumes at least Mycroft stood behind the one way mirror, or the Ice Man as her dad had called him.
Her father hadn’t told her about Sapphire, but he didn’t know the girl long enough before Sherlock had shot him. So he hadn’t had chance to tell Lydia about Sapphire.
She found out about her when of his father’s henchmen returned and reported that Moriarty was dead.
He came in the room, trembling, sweat dripping off his forehead. He stopped in the door way. Lydia looked up at him. “What is it? Where is my father?” Lydia asked.
The man swallowed the bile that collected in his throat. “I need to speak to your mother first.” The man stuttered.
Lydia stood, and walked towards the man. Slowly she walked round the trembling man. “You will tell me now! My mother can know once I know.” She picked up a blade from a table nearby. “You either tell me or I get people to force it out of you.”
The man nodded. “Okay Miss Moriarty. But please take a seat first.”
With this Lydia knew it was going to be bad news, she returned to the sofa she had been sitting on and nodded for the man to continue. The man gulped, “I had been asked to escort Dr Watson outside. So that only Mr Holmes, your father and the girl remained...”
“The girl? What girl?” Lydia asked. She knew her father had gone to make sure Sherlock Holmes actually died this time, but she knew nothing about any girl.
“Sapphire Doyle, Sherlock’s adopted daughter. Your father used her as bait to lure Sherlock.” He explained. He paused for a moment to let Lydia grasp the fact that the cold hearted, emotionless Sherlock Holmes had a daughter. Lydia nodded for the man to continue.
“So I stayed with Dr Watson, I am not completely sure what happened, but some time passed then I heard 2 shots fire. I looked through the house window to see what happened. And I... Ummm... Saw your father on the floor with a gunshot wound through his chest, the girl was also on the floor bleeding but still breathing. And Mr Holmes was dropping his gun.” Lydia was in floods of tears, her father was dead, killed by his enemy that he had an unhealthy obsession with. The man spoke again, “I didn’t know what to do so I came straight back here.”
Lydia’s head snapped up, her tears stopped like a tap being shut off. “You ran.” She snarled. “You could have shot Holmes! You could have completed my father’s work and avenged his death! But no, you ran!” She was furious, and despite only being 12, the men were terrified of her.
“Please Miss Moriarty. I panicked. Please show mercy.” The man begged on his knees in front of the girl.
Lydia rose from the sofa, and walked to the fireplace. Her back was turned from the sobbing man on the floor. “Show you mercy?” Lydia turned and smiled. The gun in her hand fired and hit the man square between the eyes.
“I shall not show you mercy!” she screamed at the dead body.
She felt the need from that day forward to take over her father’s business, but her mother still forced her to go to school. But she kept the Consulting Criminal business going as the heir to Jim Moriarty.
She went to school to please her mother. But for a year she planned to take revenge. She would take the most important people away from Sherlock Holmes. First Sapphire, the brat that survived, and then when Sherlock was crushed, she would take away John as well. Her plan had gone well, until she ended up in handcuffs, sitting in an interrogation room.
A smile formed on her face. Lydia heard movement in the corridor outside, she brought her head up and looked straight at the mirror.
“She will die!” She screamed at the mirror. “Holmes will be crushed, and I assure you that!” Her head flung back as she burst into fits of laughter.
***
In the next room Mycroft sat and watched the child. The whole scene was far too familiar. The girl just sat there; not moving, slumped in her chair.
A smile formed on her face. John entered the room just as her head snapped up; she stared straight at the mirror. Unaware she was looking straight into Mycroft’s eyes.
“She will die! Holmes will be crushed and I assure you that!” She screamed at the mirror, then her head flung back, and she broke into fits of laughter.
“She has gone insane, hasn’t she?” John asked standing next to Mycroft.
“Yes she was diagnosed earlier. An escort is on his way to take her to a hospital for the criminally insane. And I am making sure she doesn’t come out.” Mycroft said glancing at John.
“Are you going to talk to her or leave it?” John asked.
“Talk to the girl, of course. I want to know about her life, and the criminal society she took over from her father, our good friend Jim Moriarty.” Mycroft said.
“Wait... Her father? She told me her surname was Moran.” John quizzed.
“Ahh, well her mother made the child use her maiden name, so she was impossible to trace her back to Moriarty.” Mycroft picked up a file off the table next to him and started reading aloud from it. “Lydia Jane Moran- Moriarty, daughter of Sabrina Moran and Jim Moriarty. Born on the 12th June 1999. She controls a large criminal organisation and is only 13. She has confessed to several murders including the murder of the school supply teacher. We have ourselves a master criminal in the making. But it seems the new generation couldn’t quite take the pressure, as she has gone insane aged 13. But it seems we have a new generation of Consulting Detectives, unfortunately.” Mycroft sighed.
“Why are you doing this Mycroft? Had this been any other criminal they would not be spending their live in a hospital for the criminally insane. Why the change of heart?” John asked.
Mycroft straightened, and rolled his eyes. “Because John, I may not care for the Sapphire girl but Sherlock does. If I let Miss Moriarty out, she will hunt down Sapphire and she will kill her. If that happened Sherlock would blame me and hunt me down. So I may not care for Sapphire but I value my own life. Besides like I told you the first time we met; I do worry about Sherlock. And if Sapphire was killed it would destroy him, so it is best to be safe than sorry, and lock the girl up.”
John nodded. “It would. Just when you talk to her don’t make the same mistakes that you made with Moriarty. Tell her nothing about Sapphire or Sherlock. You don’t wasn’t the same consequences to happen.” John warned.
“I have learned my lesson John. I won’t be making that mistake ever again.” Mycroft said.
Ever since he told Moriarty all those things about their childhood, he had felt extremely guilty of his actions. And when Sherlock committed suicide that was it he felt extremely guilty. Mycroft was now extremely was now extremely compliant with anything Sherlock asked.
“Well, I am glad Mycroft. I will stay and watch if you don’t mind. Sherlock wants to be updated, but he won’t leave Sapphire at the moment. I wish you luck.” John said.
Mycroft nodded and left the room. Two minutes later he appeared in the interrogation room. Lydia was still sat laughing.
Mycroft cleared his throat, Lydia’s laughter fell silent, and her head rolled on her shoulders until she faced Mycroft who still stood at the door. Her expression was quite terrifying; she looked like she was drugged.
“The Ice Man. Hello” She slurred. Mycroft ignored her.
“Miss Moriarty, I would like to ask you some questions.” Mycroft said, as he fully entered the room, and slowly the door closed behind him.