Chapter Text
The next morning, Mycroft was surprised to see Sherlock at the breakfast table, picking at some toast and drinking tea while scribbling into a small notebook. Mycroft came around the table and leaned over his shoulder. "What are you doing?"
Sherlock tried to wave him off, but Mycroft continued to stand behind him, hands clasped behind his back. There weren't too many people who could outstubborn Sherlock, but Mycroft could give him a good run for his money.
Sherlock slammed the notebook shut and tried to push back from the table, but was met with resistance from the man standing behind him. "Oh," said Sherlock, looking behind him. "Are you still here?"
Mycroft rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yes, because I asked you what you were doing."
"Well, Mummy, I was trying to figure out how all the pieces of this Molly Hooper case fit together. Conor Moriarty left his family home some time ago. Then Molly Hooper was kidnapped. But Lestrade swears he was told Conor Moriarty was interviewed, but the tape and transcript are nowhere to be found."
Mycroft moved from behind Sherlock and took a seat at the table next to him. "So what do you think you should look into next?"
Sherlock looked up and exhaled a long breath. "Well, if it wasn't Lestrade who interviewed Moriarty, he would probably know who did." He stopped for a moment, eyes closing as he dug around in his Mind Palace.
"Actually, I would assume the same person who interviewed the receptionist would have been in charge of interviewing the mechanic - Moriarty. But I don't know that for sure. I should call Lestrade."
Mycroft nodded. "Either the Moriarty interview was stolen, or it never happened at all. Now, there's a dozen reasons why Conor Moriarty hadn't been at home. Maybe he and his wife were having an argument and he was staying elsewhere. Or perhaps it's something more sinister. You, of course, are going to assume that it was the more sinister option, but don't overlook something simple to try to find something more complicated. Find out who was supposed to have interviewed Moriarty, and try to see if you can figure out why he hadn't been staying at home."
Sherlock stood, draining the last of his tea. "I'm going to go call Lestrade, he should be in by now, yes?"
Mycroft checked his watch, opened his mouth, and then frowned. "How should I know Greg Lestrade's schedule?"
Sherlock threw him a grin and fled from the room, headed to Mycroft's home office to use the phone.
oOo
Two phone calls later, Sherlock had discovered that yes, the officer who had been assigned to interview Lisa had also been assigned to interview Moriarty. Lestrade gave him his name and number, and Sherlock had called him. He said he had spoken to Moriarty at the garage, he had recorded the conversation as required, and he had no idea why it wasn't in the file.
Sherlock paced the office. Where had Moriarty been? He wasn't at home, but after Molly's disappearance he had still been showing up at work. The shop had stayed open until Mrs. Hooper had secured a buyer, who had closed the shop until they could make some enhancements and hire their own staff.
Sherlock felt like the pieces should fit together some how, and it was just out of his grasp. There was a piece of information missing, and he felt like if he could find it, everything else would fall into place.
oOo
Molly Hooper spent the next morning curled up on the large bed, working her way through Treasure Island, which she hadn't read since she was a child. She hadn't heard anymore of the conversation between Jim and his mother. They'd moved away from the door, finishing their conversation as they walked down the hall, and their voices had quickly dropped out of her range of hearing.
"I have to stay on Jim's good side," she told herself, closing the book and using her finger to hold her place. "He seems reluctant to kill me. I need to use this to my advantage."
It was Jim who brought her her lunch a few hours later. He came into the room and sat the tray down on a desk. "It's not much, but this house isn't really supplied for company right now. Or anyone."
Molly tried her best to smile at him. "Isn't this your home?"
"I wish. Da said it should have been ours, but he fell out of favor with his parents years ago. His brothers are fighting over it right now."
"Family troubles can be so frustrating," commiserated Molly, stepping over to the desk and picking up the bowl of oatmeal. "So no one's living here at the moment?"
"No, --" with a start, Jim realized he probably shouldn't be talking to Molly, and closed his mouth. "Anyway, eat up. Ma's almost done here and once she finishes what she came to do I don't know what is going to happen next."
Before Molly could ask what he meant by that, he was out the door, and she could hear the key turning in the lock again.
She choked down the oatmeal and returned to her book. She had no idea what else to do, but she had gotten Jim to talk to her a little bit. She could maybe build on that.
oOo
One bribe later, Sherlock and Chet were in the car again, headed to the closed Hooper's Garage. "Your brother is going to have my skin if you get caught," warned Chet as they pulled around the back of the garage. "Five minutes. You better be back here in five minutes."
Sherlock rolled his eyes and slid out of the car, quickly making his way to the back door. Thirty seconds later he had the lock picked, and he was inside.
Although it was mid-day, very little light made it into the small cramped back office of the garage. Sherlock scanned the room quickly. Utilitarian metal desk with a computer, one of those miserable plastic covers over the keyboard to try to keep the worst of the oil and gunk from the mechanic's hands off of it. He quickly opened the two drawers and rifled through them, finding nothing of consequence. He turned to the four drawer filing cabinet next to the desk and pulled out Conor Moriarty's employee file.
Sherlock flipped through the pages. Moriarty had worked for Hooper for about five years. He received a small raise each year, and there was nothing in the file to indicate Hooper had been unhappy with Moriarty's work. He shoved the file back into the drawer and kept digging around.
"Ah!" he said, pulling out a register. Hooper had been an old fashioned guy, and despite the computer on the desk, he'd done the financial record keeping for the shop on paper. A quick glance showed everything in order, but as he flipped through the unused pages of the book, a folded piece of paper fluttered out. Sherlock stooped to pick it up, and opened it.
Sherlock's eyes went wide and he shoved the paper back into the book, put the book back into the cabinet, and was back outside and into the car in a flash. "Take me to the police," he said to Chet.
"As you wish," said Chet, and they were off again.
Sherlock went flying into Lestrade's office, a receptionist trailing him, spouting apologies and how he hadn't listened when he told her to wait. Lestrade looked up from where he'd been reviewing a file, and sighed.
"He's fine, I know him."
The receptionist shrugged and turned, making her way back to her post.
"Someone was skimming money from Hooper's Garage," said Sherlock, not waiting a moment longer. "I found a piece of paper where Hooper had added up some numbers multiple times and came up with negative 50,000 pounds."
Lestrade knitted his eyebrows. "Found where?"
"Um, in the register book. In the office. Um, of the garage."
Lestrade ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "Did you just confess to breaking and entering to me?"
Sherlock threw himself down on one of the chairs in front of Lestrade's desk. "Nope," he said, popping the P. "I just suggested that you might want to take a look in the office of Hooper's garage if you hadn't already."
Standing up, Lestrade reached for his coat and keys. "Well," he said to Sherlock. "Are you coming with me?"
Sherlock was on his feet and behind him in a heartbeat. When they got outside he said "Wait!" and ran over to the car where Chet sat, waiting. "Go on home. I'll get Lestrade to take me back. Mycroft won't get mad if I'm with him."
Chet didn't seem convinced, but he started the car and headed back to Mycroft's home regardless. Sherlock bounded over to where Lestrade was waiting next to his car. "Well, get in," he said.
As they drove, Lestrade pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. "Mind if I smoke?"
Sherlock reached for the pack. "Only if you don't share."
Sherlock and Lestrade searched the office for any other clues after Sherlock showed him the note. Lestrade tagged the note and the register book as evidence. "I'll have someone go through the books and see if they can figure out where Hooper found this discrepancy." They didn't find anything else useful, and soon enough they were back in Lestrade's car, headed to take Sherlock back to Mycroft's. "What do you think all this means?"
Sherlock had been rolling everything around in his mind for a while. "I think that Hooper thought Moriarty was embezzling from him. Once he'd gotten sick, he had probably turned over the day-to-day running of the garage to his employee. At some point he'd taken a look at the books and discovered something was amiss, but he may have gotten too sick to do anything about it or dig further."
"So what's this got to do with Miss Molly Hooper?"
Sherlock sighed. "That's what i don't understand. Mrs. Hooper sold the garage, Moriarty's long gone, and his family too, and NOW the girl turns up missing?"
"Maybe someone thinks Mrs. Hooper has something to do with it. " Lestrade said after a while, turning into the driveway of Mycroft's large home. "Maybe someone thinks she has the missing money."
"There were no ransom requests for Molly Hooper?" said Sherlock.
"No. We've kept an officer at the house since she was reported missing just in case, but nothing but radio silence. There's lots of people who think she's just a runaway and we're all wasting our time, but her mother insists she'd never."
Lestrade stopped the car. "Well, if you think of anything else, let me know. I'll see what we can make out of this," he pointed to the register book in the evidence bag. "Don't let your brother get too mad at you. If you want, tell him I picked you up today to go to the garage with me."
"Thanks!" said Sherlock, jumping out of the car.
"No problem, kid," said Lestrade under his breath as he put the car in reverse and headed back to work.
oOo
Sherlock shouldn't have worried. Mycroft wasn't home yet. Sherlock took himself out back into the garden and lit one of the cigarettes he'd stolen from Lestrade when he hadn't been paying attention. He paced the garden, trying to fit this new evidence together. Fifty thousand pounds was missing from the books of Hooper's Garage. Hooper had found out about it at some point. Moriarty was missing, Molly Hooper was missing. Mrs. Moriarty and their son were also missing, and he had no idea if all the Moriartys were together or not.
He stubbed out the cigarette and ran into the house, reaching into his pocket for Mr. Hooper's business card, which he'd grabbed from a stack on the desk. It had his home phone number on it.
The phone was answered on the second ring. "Hello?" said a worried voice.
"Mrs. Hooper?"
"Yes, this is she."
"Hello, I;m an officer working with Greg Lestrade on the case of your daughter. I'm going through the file right now and I see here that you haven't received any ransom notes regarding your daughter?"
"Not as such," said the voice .
"What do you mean by that?"
"I got a call from a lady asking about my profits from the garage. I asked her if she meant the money from the sale, and she acted very strange. She mentioned Molly being missing. She never exactly asked for money, but it was a very strange call."
"Did you tell the police?"
"At the time I was so flustered and the woman had just seemed idly curious about Molly and everything's been so awful I'm just not sure, Officer."
"Did you receive any money from the shop other than the sale money? Was there any sort of large payment, or did your husband start bringing hoe more money than expected recently?"
"No. I mean, even after he couldn't work anymore he still drew a salary, but I think as owner that's only reasonable. Conor and Lisa were running things and as far as I could tell, fairly well."
"Hmm," said Sherlock noncommittally.
"Is there anything else, Officer? It's been another long, stressful day and I just want my Molly back. You are looking for her, aren't you?"
Sherlock softened his voice, "Mrs. Hooper, we're doing everything we can to get your Molly back."
"Thank you," she said, before hanging up the phone.
Sherlock stared at the phone for a while. Either Mrs. Hooper was covering up the embezzlement even with a missing daughter, or she had no knowledge of any funny business at the garage. He decided to try to talk to some of the Moriarty neighbors the next day, and settled down with a book to wait for Mycroft to get home, so he could continue his ongoing quest to annoy him enough to let him return to their parents' for the rest of the summer.