Sophia Holmes and the Blind Banker (Sherlock's Daughter Fanfic) *Completed*

Chapter Eight

Back at Baker Street, I bring John's picture up on my laptop and start cross-sectioning bits off. The other cyphers have all been in pairs - suggesting some kind of standard form to the code - so I do the same with these before printing them off.

Dad notes down the numerical value beside each symbol before handing them to John to pin up on the mirror. I stand a small distance away, trying to make sense of the cyphers that now cover up most of the chimney breast. There has to be some message that needs decoding but, until we know the code they're using, we don't stand a chance.

John sits down at the desk, his head in his hands as he nods off and dad joins my side, closing the book he used to translate the numbers and tossing it aside. "Always in pairs, John," dad muses, jerking John awake.

He blinks and turns around so he's looking at us, squinting against the light. "Hmm?"

"Numbers come with partners."

John ignores him, looking blankly around at the flat instead. "God, I need to sleep," he groans.

I feel wide awake, the adrenaline of steadily getting closer to finding the answer encouraging me onwards.

"Why did he paint it so near the tracks?"

"No idea," John says in reply, barely awake.

"Thousands of people pass by there every day."

"It's a wide audience," I say, "and not everybody who goes past will be able to translate the symbols. We thought it was graffiti at first, so anybody else would just presume that as well. Obviously the smugglers use that line for trading, so they'll be the ones the message is aimed; the only ones able to decode it."

"Of course," dad says in realisation, my comment triggering a new line of thought in his mind. "Of course! He wants information. He's trying to communicate with his people in the underworld. Whatever was stolen, he wants it back." I nod, glad that he gets what I was implying as he runs his finger across the symbols. "Somewhere here in the code."

"I can't see any lettering in there." I think for a moment, then frown. "Perhaps it's a book code." Dad looks to me and I continue. "It would be easy: the smugglers have a book they all use; something easy to pick up wherever they go. The cyphers come in pairs - so do book codes."

Dad nods and pulls three photos off the wall and heads towards the door. "We can't crack this without Soo Lin Yao."

"Oh, good!" John says sarcastically, sleepily getting up to follow.

***

I jump out of the cab as it pulls up to a stop on Trafalgar Square and we head straight for the museum. Andy is there to meet us as we arrive.

"Two men who travelled back from China were murdered, and their killer left them messages in the Hangzhou numerals," dad says, skipping the pleasantries.

"Soo Lin Yao's in danger. Now, that cypher - it was just the same pattern as the others," John continues. "He means to kill her as well."

"Have you even the slightest idea where she is?" I finish.

"Look, I've tried everywhere: um, friends, colleagues," he says, shrugging. "I-I don't know where she's gone. I mean, she could be a thousand miles away."

I walk away in exasperation, then my gaze falls to the teapots inside the glass case display. "Sherlock."

Dad turns, his eyes narrowing as he sees and joins me beside the case.

"What are you looking at?" John questions.

"Tell me more about those teapots," dad demands, pointing at the display.