Secrets (Sherlock)

Bind banker-p2

Quintessa POV

Sherlock went to investigate something, so I was left with John. Don’t get me wrong, I really like John. He s kind, and seems to be very close with Sherlock. It’s just that, I understand Sherlock more. We’re the same. We both hide our emotions, and can read someone like a book.

“So, are you like Sherlock? Like, can you deduce people,” John asked, breaking the silence we were in.

“Yeah. I can,” I said, closing my eyes. “For example, from the way you acted this morning, you were annoyed by something. Like, you got in a fight, and Sherlock didn’t help, or care.”

“Itwasaselfcheckoutmachine,” he mumbled quickly. I opened my eyes, and looked at him, chuckling.

“A what!” I asked.

“A self check out machine at the grocery story,” he said. I burst out laughing, my security breaking down temporarily.

“You got in a row with a machine! Oh, ow my belly,” I say, clutching my belly while laughing. “That is hilarious John. I think you just made my day.”

I was still laughing when Sherlock came in, but I just couldn’t stop. “H-he go-got in a row with a se-self ch-check o-out mach-chine,” I managed to get out. Sherlock stared at me with a curious gaze. I could tell he was trying to read me, so I quickly put back up my barriers, and made sure that he couldn’t. He gave me an irritated look, which only added to my laughter. Once I finally composed myself, we made out way towards the escalators.

“Two trips around the world this month. You didn’t ask his secretary; you said that just to irritate him.”

I see the corner of Sherlock’s lips turn up into a small smile. “How did you know?” John asks.

“His watch, I presume.”

“His watch?” I nod.

“The time was right, but the date was wrong. Said two days ago. Crossed the dateline twice, but didn’t alter it,” Sherlock explained, as we got near the bottom of the stairs.

“Within a month? How’d you get that part?”

“New Breitling,” I inform.

“Only came out this February,” Sherlock finishes, glaring at me as if I stole his thunder.

“Okay. So d’you think we should sniff around here for a bit longer?”

“Got everything I need to know already, thanks. The graffiti was a message for someone at the bank working on the trading floors. We find the intended recipient and…”

“They’ll lead us to the person who sent it,” I finish

“Well, there are three hundred people up there. Whom was it meant for?” John asked.

“Pillars,” Sherlock said. “Pillars and screens. Very few places you can see that graffiti from. That narrows the field considerably. And, of course the message was left at eleven thirty-four last night. That tells us a lot.”

“Does it?” John asks me.

“Traders come to work at all hours. Some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for someone who came in at midnight,” I explain quickly to John.

“Not many Van Coons in the phonebook,” Sherlock finishes, showing John and me a card. But, he quickly spots a taxi, and hails it. We step in, and give the cabbie the address.

Several minutes pass in the taxi, me still smiling, when we finally make our way to a block of flats. Sherlock jumps out of the cab, while I pay the fare.