Kronberg Crimes 01 - The Devils Grin

it’s not safe. I have a place far away from London.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘I will not tell you.’
    He waved his hand impatiently. ‘You know my abilities!’
    ‘Don’t waste your time, Sherlock. You won’t find me.’
    I had bought the cottage using a different name and had paid cash. Nothing would link my old identity to my new home.
    ‘That is ridiculous!’
    ‘No, it isn’t. As long as the greatest detective cannot find me, no one will.’ I didn’t mention that, if I did tell him where I lived, I would wait for him to walk through my cottage door — every single day. My brain knew he wouldn’t, but my heart disagreed.
    Silence fell again and, after a while, I added, ‘Promise me that you’ll place an advertisement into The Times , asking for Caitrin Mae, when this case is either solved or threatens your life. I’ll find you then.’
    I noticed his smirk and added, ‘No, that is not the name I used to buy the place, nor the one I’ll use in hiding. I just made it up.’
    His eyes turned dark again, he gave me a single nod and then turned to observe the countryside. I could see that he was thinking hard. Suddenly, with quite a lot of energy that only a good plan can bring, he faced me again and stated merrily, ‘I think it is time for a little violence.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘It is not what — it is excuse me !’ he cried, while rising from his seat. I could not place the playful look he had in his eyes.
    ‘Your escape has to appear authentic,’ he explained before grabbing both my shoulders, lifting me up, and slamming me against the cab’s window. I cried out in surprise.
    ‘My apologies,’ he whispered as he lunged to the door and bolted it. Then he threw himself against it and on to the floor, bellowing like a plumber on too much gin. Finally, my brain clicked and I dropped down next to him, grinning and cursing. We rolled around, kicking and hitting the walls and seats, like two kids playing war. The hansom finally gave a lurch as the horses reared and changed their slow gait into a gallop.
    ‘Wha’ the ’ell’s goin’ on?’ the cabby shouted, while trying to get the animals back under his control. Holmes, who had tried to stand up, lost balance and fell onto his back with one arm pinned awkwardly underneath him. I pounced and clamped him down with my knees on either side of his ribcage.
    ‘To hell with the police!’ I screamed at the top of my lungs, while maintaining a firm grip on his trapped arm. His eyes flared open in surprise.
    ‘Give up, Mr Holmes!’ I bellowed.
    ‘Never!’ he barked and grabbed a fistful of my waistcoat. One button popped.
    ‘For your own sake!’ I screamed, slamming my other hand down next to his face. That seemed to cause some amusement. He probably thought I did indeed try to overpower him. Well, maybe I did.
    ‘You, villain, shall not escape justice!’ he roared and shook me by the collar.
    ‘I like you this way,’ I said quietly and bent down.
    His body went limp, the fist holding my waistcoat offering no resistance. His pupils widened in shock and I held his gaze as my lips touched the corner of his mouth, asking for permission. He gave me a feeble shove as his eyes lost focus, his head tilted a little, and his warm breath caressed my face. Like the wings of a bird, his eyelids folded together, and only then did I kiss him. His lips felt like silk.
    And, all of a sudden, my silly heart left my chest to live in his from this day forward. I wondered whether he notice the additional weight.
    Two metallic clicks pulled my mouth away from his, and I spotted the guard’s revolver in his hand. Aghast, I gazed into his face. His eyes were on fire, but I didn’t retreat. I bent down again and touched his lips a last time as he raised his left hand and fired four shots through the cab’s roof.
    The horses bolted, the cabby shouted, and we were joggled about like chocolate candy in a box. After a few moments, the vehicle came to a halt, and the driver jumped off and ran away, screaming for help.
    Sherlock unfolded his protective embrace, shoved me up onto the seat, and rose to his feet in one fluid move.
    ‘Out,’ he ordered, holding the door open.
    ‘I drive,’ I noted, climbing onto the driver’s seat and cracking the whip as he slammed the door shut.
    I couldn’t help but smile, although the aftertaste of our kiss was bitter. How formidable the spectrum of emotions that can unfold in one single moment! Utter bliss to tearful downpour upon