Sherlock: His Enigma Called A

Adelaide's Visit

One Week Later

Sherlock stood in front of the wall, now tacked up with papers and criss-crossed with red string, as he tried yet again to piece all the evidence together into a conclusive identity for their poacher.

The toxin-enthusiast was as elusive as they were dramatic and wickedly smart. Sherlock had been able to crack the coded files on the jump drives but none of them had any definite information or clues as to the the poacher's identity or their ultimate goal.

It did not help either that the poacher had not returned to the house, or that the deed to the actual property gave no clues at all. Sherlock had had Mycroft wire it in case someone did, and had spent every night staking it out. But it was obvious by now that the poacher wasn't going to risk returning and getting caught. Adelaide said that they had probably taken the loss and moved forward with their plans. Sherlock was inclined to agree.

He blinked once and looked at the manifest again. The animals had all been taken in by the zoos and safari parks around London or were returned to their native lands, with the exception of the toxic ones. The Natural History Museum had claimed them for research. Adelaide fed Sherlock those updates periodically.

He pressed his hands together under his chin and inhaled, "This isn't too much of a setback for the poacher then..."

"Yoo-hoo!" Missus Hudson popped in, "You're still thinking over that case, Sherlock?"

"Mmm." He grunted. She smiled cheekily.

"There's someone downstairs to see you, Sherlock."

"Send them away. I'm busy."

Missus Hudson had heard from John about Adelaide and how she had gotten close to their favorite detective. So she was more than eager to see how Sherlock would respond to Adelaide since she had come over with a few things, "Alright then. I'll just go tell Adelaide that you're in your mind palace."

This got his attention. He whipped around to face his landlady, "Adelaide?"

"Yes, Sherlock. She said she needed to talk to you. Something about the case?" Sherlock blinked a couple of times, eyes softening.

"Oh. Well then, send her up." Missus Hudson left and Sherlock turned back to his problem wall. Less than a minute later he heard Adelaide enter the living room.

"I hope that I'm not interrupting you, Sherlock." She spoke timidly. He turned around to face her.

"No, not at all. Do you have anything for the case, then?"

She nodded, "Y-Yes. Um, here." She reached into her large black messenger bag and rummaged around, extracting a large yellow plastic folder. He stepped over the table to her and took it from her hands.

"And what is this?" He asked as he opened it.

"I managed to get in contact with a few colleagues in New Guinea, Australia and South America. There have been many reports of poaching that line up with when the animals we found were taken from reserves and sanctuaries. Sightings and such. I-I was also able to track down an airfield in Costa Rica that admitted that one of the planes that landed there had a shipment of exotic animals."

His eyes darted across the pages, "You've been busy, then."

"Y-Yes."

He carried the folder with him to his chair and sat down, continuing to study the files in front of him. Adelaide continued to stand there awkwardly until he remembered her presence, "Do sit down, Adelaide. Over here's fine. Missus Hudson will be up with tea and biscuits shortly."

"O-Oh, alright." She timidly obeyed and perched in John's chair, setting her bag at her feet and fidgeting with her hands in her lap. Sherlock hummed.

"This is the first time you've actually come to Baker Street."

"I figured you wouldn't want to leave to come see me. So I decided to come here."

"I would have come for the information," He replied and then glanced up at her, "You were just asked out on a date."

"How did you-?"

"Easy. Your coat indicates you were hugged in a slightly more than friendly manner and you haven't smoothed it out."

"That obvious?"

"As obvious as your one younger brother and the cats."

"Ah."

He tsked, "Go on then. Who asked you and when is this date?"

"Why would you want to know, Sherlock?"

"I may need you for the case."

"Oh. Well, his name is Jacob Powell. W-We agreed to be each other's dates for the upcoming Museum Gala."

He made eye contact with her, "Gala?"

"Yes. We're celebrating the Museum's achievements in Biological Research. It's a... big deal."

Sherlock exhaled and put his hands together under his chin, "Research..." His mind recalled the codes he had used to access the safes from the poacher house. He hadn't thought much of the numbers then. But now they seemed important.

"Sherlock?" Adelaide asked as Sherlock mentally attached letters to the numbers in the code sequences. Then he jumped up and ran back to his problem wall to scribble out the encoded message next to the pictures of the safes, "Did you figure something out?"

She got up and walked over to join him. He pointed to what he had written, "The number codes for the safe meant something after all. Look." She did so and paled.

13211952113=Museum.

8591920=Heist.

Museum Heist.

Ta!!