Hello Detective

The Blind Banker Part 4

Once I got there I slammed the door and walked up the stairs to their living room.

"You've been a while." Sherlock said, staring at the pages taped above the fireplace, his back to me.

"Yeah, well, you know how it is. Custody sergeants don't really like to be hurried, do they?" I added insensitively.

"Good, fine." Sherlock said, not really paying attention to anything I was saying. "This symbol, I still can't place it." He admitted.

I began to take my coat off as Sherlock turned around. He suddenly grabbed my coat and put it back on me.

"No, I need you to go the police station and ask about the journalist, his personal effects would've been impounded." Sherlock said as he ushered me out the door. "Get hold of his diary or something that will tell us his movements."

Sherlock grabbed his coat as well and walked out of his flat after me. "I'll go and see Van Coon's PA. If we retrace their steps, somewhere they'll coincide. I've got John out looking too."

I hailed a cab back to Scotland Yard, and much to my disdain I had to go see Dimmock.

"Your friend..." Dimmock began but I cut him off.

"Listen, whatever you say, I'm behind you 100%." I told him. After all, Sherlock had almost just gotten me arrested. If I didn't work for Scotland Yard they would have probably made me go to court or given me an ASBO.

"He's an arrogant sod." Dimmock said as he was retrieving Lukis' personal effects for me.

"Well, that was mild. People usually say a lot worse than that." I said.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? The journalist's diary?" Dimmock said, handing me the thin black notebook. I smiled and nodded, quickly flipping through it until I found his planner. Stuffed inside was a ticket from the London Underground, the Tube. I decided that was my best bet of where to go next. After looking around there for a bit I ran into someone, quite literally. Sherlock, perfect.

"Eddie Van Coon brought a package here the day he died. Whatever was hidden inside that case..." Sherlock began before I tried to start talking but he cut me off, "I've managed to piece together a picture using scraps of information. Credit card bills, receipts. He flew back from China, then he came here."

"Sherlock." I tried again, with no such luck.

"Somewhere in this street, somewhere near. I don't know where, but..." He stated before I had the pleasure to cut him off.

"That shop, over there." I pointed.

"How could you tell?" Sherlock asked, intrigued.

"Lukis' diary. He was here too. He wrote down the address. Plus John is standing inside, whatever you asked him to look for it seems to have brought us all to the same place." I told him.

"Oh." He said, maybe slightly disappointed that I figured it out before him.

We were now in the heart of ChinaTown. I walked into The Lucky Cat shop and found John. The shop seemed to have a bunch of fake chinese antiques, basically a tourist trap gift shop.

"You want Lucky Cat?" The owner asked us in her strong accent.

"No, thanks, no." John answered. Sherlock smiled politely, and it fell when she looked away.

"Ten pound, ten pound." She tried again.

"I think your wife, she will like." She said to John, referring to me as his wife.

"Right, dear." I played along, grabbing John's arm, suppressing a laugh.

John was grabbing at things in the store, he picked up a ceramic cup and turned it over.