Despite the Odds

Chapter 16: Magnussen

Sherlock and John stood in the living room, and John watched tensely as a small team of private security guards walked in. Sherlock groaned in annoyance but complied easily, lifting his arms as he said scornfully: "Oh, go ahead."

One of the guards patted him down, while another stood before John and asked: "Sir?"

John glanced at the man, before asking: "Can I have a moment?"

The security guard hesitated, but Sherlock interjected: "Oh, he's fine."

The guard began to pat John down as the doctor sighed and added to Sherlock: "Er, I ... right. I should probably tell you-"

The guard pulled out a pocket knife and raised his brows at John, who muttered: "Okay, I ... That." He finished lamely.

"And..." John trailed off as the guard then found the tyre lever and looked at John sceptically, and even Sherlock looked surprised.

"Doesn't mean I'm not pleased to see you." John whispered, giving up.

Sherlock interjected: "I can vouch for this man. He's a doctor. If you know who I am, then you know who he is."

Sherlock turned to the door and addressed the man who stepped in.

"Don't you, Mr Magnussen?"

The guard stepped back, appeased, and John saw the stately gentleman with his receding blond hair and clear-framed glasses. Sherlock began, folding his hands behind his back: "I understood we were meeting at your office."

Magnussen looked around and murmured softly, but firmly: "This is my office."

He walked inside, and glanced at John, who saw what Sherlock meant about this strange man's eyes- they were absolutely dead, void of any emotion. Magnussen continued: "Well, it is now."

Sherlock raised a brow as Magnussen casually picked up the morning paper from the coffee table.

"Mr Magnussen," Sherlock began as Magnussen sat down on the sofa, "I have been asked to intercede with you by Lady Elizabeth Smallwood on the matter of her husband's letters. Some time ago you... put pressure on her concerning those letters." He worded it carefully.

Magnussen looked at him as Sherlock continued firmly: "She would like those letters back."

Magnussen examined Sherlock with those flat almost colorless eyes and Sherlock added: "Obviously the letters no longer have any practical use to you, so with that in mind-"

Magnussen suddenly snorted a little and Sherlock paused. He levelled a look at the other man and inquired: "Something I said?"

"No, no. I-I was reading." Magnussen replied, touching his glasses. He murmured pensively: "There's rather a lot. 'Victoire'."

Sherlock's eyes widened and then narrowed fractionally as the name shook him to his core. Magnussen seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts as he said softly: "Sorry. Sorry. You were probably talking?"

"I..." Sherlock swallowed and John glanced at him worriedly as the detective stuttered, "I was trying to explain that I've been asked to act on behalf of-"

"Bathroom?" Magnussen interrupted suddenly.

One of the security men replied readily: "Along from the kitchen, sir."

"Okay." Magnussen murmured. Sherlock frowned while John raised his brows, confused.

Sherlock said sharply: "I've been asked to negotiate the return of those letters."