I've received some questions concerning James and how/if he died. What happened to him will be revealed, not sure when, but, yes, it will happen. :)
Moriarty stalked down the corridor. Bleak white walls. Cement flooring. Underground labs could be so…dismal. Lamps. That's what this place needed. Some pink lighting to offset the dreariness.
During his search to find out about the woman who didn't exist he'd come across something odd. Odd and coincidental, but coincidence didn't exist. It took some digging, but he finally managed to find the root of this coincidence.
He was following a lab tech. Didn't catch the man's name. The lab tech was much too ordinary for that sort of attention.
"Dr. Hastings is in here," the tech said, opening a door.
Moriarty stepped inside a small office. The desk was in disarray, paperwork scattered across the top with an open laptop amid the chaos. There were posters on the walls, most displaying the various parts of the human brain. He smiled as he gazed at them.
"Mr. Brook?" a man asked.
He finally turned his attention on the only other person in the room. Dr. Hastings sat behind the desk, gazing at him though a pair of half moon spectacles. Eighty-two. Deceased wife. Used to have a gambling addiction, which is why he now performed his experiments in an underground lab instead of working for a university or private hospital. Although, his most recent experiment would've gotten him band from both places.
"Dr. Hastings," Moriarty said, as the old man stood up. "Is your patient ready?"
"I don't understand why you insist on seeing him. As I told you over the phone-"
"Yes, yes, yes, dangerous, can't be trusted, blah, blah, blah." He pulled out a check. "If you want your money I suggest you fulfill my request."
Dr. Hastings hurried around the desk toward the door. Moriarty smiled as he slid the check back into his pocket. Money was always the best motivator. Of course, Dr. Hastings wasn't actually going to get the check, but by the time he found out, well, he wouldn't need money anymore. Moriarty followed him out the door and down the hall.
The good doctor had been working on behavior modification when that trail of coincidence led Moriarty to the old man's lab, but it wasn't his research that drew Moriarty there. They came to a door near the end. Dr. Hastings pulled out a set of keys and unlocked it. Moriarty followed him into a small room. There was another door to his right with a large window. A table was stationed under the window with a microphone, recording device, and a computer set up on top.
The room on the other side of the window was white, like the corridor, but it was the man in blue coveralls sitting at a small table in the center of the room that drew Moriarty's attention. The whole reason he'd been drawn to Dr. Hastings in the first place.
"The door," Moriarty insisted.
The doctor hesitated.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Yes, yes, enter at my own risk. I get it. Now, open the door!"
Dr. Hastings fumbled with the keys, slipped one into the lock and in the next moment pulled the door open. Moriarty stepped inside. As he crossed the room he heard the door shut behind him.
"Hello, Jim," the man greeted, giving Moriarty pause as he drew up next to the table. "Have a seat, won't you? I'd offer you something to drink, but as you can see I'm fresh out."
The man gave him a smile that mirrored his own.
"How do you know my name?" Moriarty asked.
"You called during one of our sessions," he replied using air quotes. "I heard your name and since you're my first visitor in the six months that I've been here. Well, two and two as they say."
"Oh, very good."
The man gave him a shrug, as if to say impressing Moriarty didn't really concern him.
"Did you come here for a reason or just to chat?"
Down to business. Moriarty found him interesting, but it was just as well to get on with things.
"I'm looking for answers," he said.
"Then ask the question," the man replied.
Nearly two days of searching led him to this point. So, he asked the question that had been plaguing him.
"Do you know Rose Tyler?"
The man leaned forward, a grin creeping across his face.
"Oh, yes. I know her very well."
"Tell me," Moriarty insisted, but the man continued to smile.
"You want answers and I want out of this hell hole. You get me out of here and I'll tell you everything I know about Rose Marion Tyler."
Everything. The word conjured a gleeful smile. He pulled out his phone and made the call. Soon her mystery would be unraveled and he'd know everything about her.
Of course there were loose ends to tie up. Dr. Hastings, his assistants, anyone with knowledge of the man sitting on the other side of the table. Moriarty couldn't chance anyone else finding out about the man who didn't exist.
Thank you to all my brilliant readers!
If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)