Safe to say, Sherlock was intrigued by the jeweller's case. He was pleasantly surprised to find that John had found him a decent case (not that he doubted John's abilities to do so, of course, but he did find every case interesting even if they hadn't the slightest appeal to Sherlock). Before leaving, Sherlock informed Elizabeth that Mrs Hudson would be around to watch out for her (should she decide to leave) but was promptly reminded that she had no real desire to leave anymore unless she had a death wish. Assured by her response, he trusted her to be fine on her own and left with John and the jeweller to go and analyse the scene of the crime.

At the jewellers, the detective was in his element, deducting clues from the scene, "You said that they messed with the CCTV?"

"Yes, I don't even know how they get in." The owner despaired.

"Do you have any other staff that work here?"

"Only Abigail and Tom, sales assistants, but Abigail only works at the weekends and Tom on Mondays and Wednesdays."

"And you said that it was only ever women and girls that robbed your store?"

"Yes." The jeweller frowned.

John piped up at this point, "All staff come in through the back, don't they? And isn't there a passcode to unlock the backdoor?"

"Yes, but if you're suggesting that Abigail is the one who messes with the CCTV then I have to say that your awfully wrong." The man adjusted his glasses with a more amused frown, "She's - "

"She's what?" Sherlock enquired.

"Abigail can sell but otherwise she is as thick as a plank. I highly doubt she would be able to hack CCTV."

"How do you know she isn't faking?" John posed this question to him.

"Fake being thick? Well, I - I..." The jeweller paused as it dawned on him, "I don't know."

"Just to make sure: when did you say the robberies started?" Sherlock added.

"Early this year."

"And when did you employ Abigail?"

"Before the start of this year."

"And there you have your answer but now we need the evidence. We'll need to catch her in the act. Mr Agate, John and I will see you tomorrow. Rest assured we'll catch the thieves." Sherlock nodded to the jeweller before turning to leave with John. Once outside the detective muttered, "Sounds like there is a female gang in operation."

"Told you that you would like the case." John replied smugly.

* * * * *

While John and Sherlock were away, Elizabeth was just milling about the flat at home. Mrs Hudson checked on her once, offering her tea when she did to which the thief happily obliged. Nothing interesting happened really. Therefore she had to make her own distractions. Shaun might have been a close friend, and yes she missed and mourned him, but she knew that if he were still here that he would probably tell her not to cry over him of all people, even though she loved him dearly.

In fact, while the men were gone, Elizabeth took the time to really look at the flat - not just to see it but to observe it too. Somehow, the fact that there was a smiley face spray painted on the wall never did quite dawn on her and she smiled at this. But the smile was quickly replaced with concern when she saw the bullet holes in the wall. Why on earth were there bullet holes? On top of the fire place was the skull, which she oddly found less alarming than the bullet holes, and a number of items held down to the wood by a knife.

Elizabeth didn't get far with her curious analysis of the flat when the door to the apartment opened - but it didn't reveal Sherlock or John or even Mycroft or Mrs Hudson for that matter. Instead, a young woman. She smiled, her red-painted lips reaching ear-to-ear revealing two neat rows of glistening teeth.

"The woman downstairs said I could wait for Mr Holmes to come back, I hope I'm not intruding." She spoke politely.

"Uh - um - not at all." Elizabeth shrugged.

The woman waited in the doorway, shuffling on her feet slightly as Elizabeth stared back at her wordlessly.

The thief blinked hard as she realised she was the one who had to be hospitable, "Sorry, you can come in."

"I'm so sorry, I would have knocked."

"Hm?"

The woman nodded in acknowledgement of Elizabeth's attire and she looked down at herself, now realising she was sill in pyjamas and understanding that she had not yet brushed her hair despite it being early afternoon. Shit, she thought, now much more self-conscious of herself.

"One moment, let me just go tidy myself up." Elizabeth made a move to leave, "You can wait here."

"Sure." She nodded.

Shutting Sherlock's door, she wondered if it was safe to even leave the woman alone. Nah, it will be fine, she thought, the lady doesn't look like she could do much anyways. All the same, she still got ready rather hurriedly. Having thrown on a pair of jeans and a green jumper and sorting out her hair into a messy bun, she opened the door looking off to the side to grab her mug off of the bedside table and reached to grab it but as she did, a subtle 'click' reached her ears and she stopped dead.

Peering over her arm, she saw the woman and her taunting, tight, red-lipped smile as she pointed a gun at Elizabeth. Shit.

The thief said nothing as she retracted her hand and stood normally again until an unexpected, rather worrying thought reached her mind.

"Where's Mrs Hudson?"

The woman scoffed, her shoulder-length ginger hair bouncing as she did, "Chloroform, she is sleeping peacefully and otherwise unharmed in her flat."

At least she was safe, thank God, "Who are you?"

"And old friend of Jim's."

Brilliant, Elizabeth thought, just what she needed, "What do you want?"

"For you to come with me."

"Why?"

"Because you're the only person Jim remotely cares about."

"Well, he has a funny way of showing it." She blurted out.

A scowl crossed the woman's face, "Enough talk. Raise your hands and start walking."

"You can't walk me out onto the streets, holding a gun to me and not go unnoticed." Elizabeth tried to be rational with her but still did what she was told and walked past her slowly. Yet she promptly felt the cool metal muzzle roughly nudge her in the small of her back.

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

Elizabeth was marched down the stairs, to which her eyes briefly met with Mrs Hudson's apartment door. She hoped that she would be okay. Of all the people in the world, Mrs Hudson didn't deserve this. In fact, she often wondered why the landlady put up with Sherlock considering the danger he could bring with him, given his career choice.

Before the woman opened the front door, she leaned in close to Elizabeth's ear, pressing the gun against her back harder, then said in a law, threatening tone, "You're going to open the door, and walk out normally. There's a car outside. You're going to get into that car by choice, do you understand?"

"Yes."

"I'm sure you can work out what will happen if you don't. Now, open the door."

Yeah, she didn't particularly fancy getting shot today, it was just a bit much on her agenda really, considering she still had Jim to find or vice versa. Although, if Jim got to her first, death would be on his agenda too as he made that so crystal clear last night. Neither outcome, she decided, she wanted really but if she had to choose a way to go, then at least a bullet would be quicker than Jim.

Way quicker than Jim.

That all being said, Elizabeth just prayed she would have some other chance to get away.

Quite robotically, she did as instructed and walked out into the daylight of the street and over to the car. It was a black SUV. Why was it always an SUV? She saw two other men in the car, one in the front and one in the back, both looking impressively intimidating and she immediately regretted opening the door.

"I would apologise for this but soon you won't care."

"Well tha - "

Elizabeth never got to finish her sarcastic response as a sharp hit to the back of head with the back of the woman's gun promptly knocked her out.

"I can handle the rest on my own, but I want you two to bring the detective as well - only the detective. Stay behind. I'll send someone to get you."

A/N: We loves the cliff hangers :D