Welcome to Baker Street

56. Secrets and discoveries

"Mycroft, what the hell are you doing here?" Sherlock exclaims when he sees his brother walking inside the bank.

The eldest Holmes stops in the middle of the room and casually leans against his umbrella, grimacing.

"This isn't the warm reception I was expecting to receive."

"Pardon me, nobody told me I was part of the welcoming committee," Sherlock snaps back.

Mycroft glowers at him, then the corners of his mouth bend in a grin.

"Oh, I see why you are so angry to see me. You are disappointed that I am not dead."

"Disappointed that I won't get the whole of our parents' inheritance? Maybe. But I'd rather say surprised. What happened, or rather what stopped a catastrophic event from happening at the Parliament?"

"It was me, of course," Mycroft says proudly, indulging in a moment of self-appreciation. "During our call, I told you I had doubts and suspicions about a delicate business, and I am fairly sure that now you know what I was talking about," he hints at the attempted attack during a political meeting at the British Parliament, and Sherlock silently nods, letting him continue.

"I could feel that something wasn't right, so I intensified the level of security. I made my agents search everywhere for the slightest threat until they found a bomb hidden in the security control room. It was promptly disposed of, and nobody in the building got hurt. As to how that device ended up there, it is still a mystery that I hope our American spy will unravel soon." He stares ominously at Kevin, who is handcuffed and driven away in the police cars.

"The security control room? Ironic and quite impressive. How can a single man arrange all that?"

Mycroft shakes his head slowly. "One alone can't. I am inclined to believe that he is part of an organisation or a criminal network. You should tread carefully."

His younger brother rolls up his eyes and changes the subject.

"You still haven't replied to my first question: what are you doing here?"

Mycroft casually loosens the knot in his tie, his face noticeably stressed after the long, intense day.

"Checking on my little brother, of course. My employees kept me updated on your movements. When I got wind that the police were coming here, I came too. I constantly worry about you, brother dear."

"You're lying. This is precisely the second time you've shown up on a case in which Giulia was directly involved. I would call it a coincidence, but I know all too well what you think of coincidences," he says suggestively. "That spy was not only a mediocre criminal but also a blabbermouth. He said that you secretly meet Giulia weekly to exchange information. What's happening here, brother mine?"

Mycroft recoils at that mention and eagerly retorts, "None of your business."

"She lives under my roof; it is my business, indeed. I want the truth, Mycroft."

"And you'll have it, but not from me. She will tell you everything when she's ready. For the moment, just know that it is a matter of her past," his sibling cryptically replies.

"I know from personal experience the past will always come back to haunt everyone, eventually," Sherlock thoughtfully affirms, looking around the bank. A case that he thought he had closed ten years ago almost ruined his present and compromised his future. Demons, ghosts, shadows: whatever we leave behind without a direct confrontation is never really gone. It all dwells silently in the shadows until it surfaces back again.

"This time it's different." Mycroft steals a glance at Giulia; a team of paramedics are checking her conditions.

"How?"

"She is haunting it," Mycroft allusively replies. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to ask about Giulia's health status," and with that, he walks away, swinging his umbrella in the air. As he comes near her, he gently places a hand on her shoulder, startling her.

"It is just me. I am sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he murmurs in a tone slightly softer than his usual icy arrogance.

She lifts her gaze to him and forces a feeble smile, trying to get rid of the sudden fright.

"Hello, Mycroft. Sorry for my reaction. I might be a bit oversensitive right now."

"It's perfectly understandable. Are you alright?"

"I'm alive. That's a start."

"I'm here because I have sensitive information for you." He drops his voice to a whisper, cutting to the chase.

She arches her brows, surprised. "I thought you'd prefer to meet in less crowded places," she says, hinting at the bunch of people that know them both. Although, in fairness, nobody is paying attention to them at the moment.

"Now that Sherlock has found out about our meetings, I'm certain he won't give you a break: he will follow you everywhere. Honestly, it's been a rough day, and I don't have the resources or the strength to go play hide-and-seek with my brother. So please, just do me a favour and try to gesture widely while you talk to give the impression that you're describing what just happened to you."

"Got it." She emphasises every word with ample movements of her hands. "I am all ears. What did you find?"

"As you already know, the criminal organisation that we suspect to be behind the events that destroyed your life last year has its headquarters here in London. We think that there is only one person at the head of the organisation, and rumour has it that such a mysterious criminal could currently be in London as well. I cannot give you further details at the moment: verifications are still ongoing, and we don't have a clear idea about the leader's identity yet. It's a little more than whispers, but it's enough for me to believe it is no longer safe for you to stay here. You should start thinking about a new city."

She holds his gaze. "No. I came here to have answers and some closure, and I have every intention to get to the bottom of my story."

He can read a fierce determination in her eyes, so he simply nods.

"Fine, but please allow me to put a personal security detail on you. I used to think that my brother was the most dangerous threat in Baker Street, but after the events of today, I realised that far worse evils await behind every corner."

"I don't want a security detail. But if it makes you feel better, I think just one man will be enough," she concedes. She is quite certain that Mycroft Holmes is not very used to taking no for an answer—she will be no exception.

"Deal. From now on, you'll have a guardian angel," Mycroft approves, jotting down some notes on his agenda.

"Sounds perfect to me. Go get some rest now. You look like you need it." She smiles weakly at him, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

He raises his head imperiously and regains his composure.

"Good night, Miss Giulia. Take care of yourself."

* * * Author's Note: I hope you are enjoying the mystery about Giulia's backstory. More information will be gradually revealed in the next chapters.

Just bear with me a bit longer: you won't be disappointed.