Eye Contact *ON HOLD*

Cipher In The Library

They made their way to Scotland Yard almost immediately, only pausing to obtain their coats. As Maggie took hers and slipped it over her frame, she noticed a patch coming loose in an elbow, a bit of fluff poking out of the corner. Poking it back inside with a finger, she made a mental note to see if Mrs. Hudson had a sewing kit so she could fix the stitching. Sherlock gave her a glance as she did, and she gave him a look to let him know once again that she wasn’t planning to wear the other one. She didn’t need it, and this coat was the last item she had from her old life.

At New Scotland Yard, D.I. Dimmock had been sitting at his desk when they entered. Looking up from his papers as they approached, he closed the binder before him and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. He was obviously irritated by their presence, but Maggie, remembering her conversation with Sherlock before, had decided that she didn’t care any longer. The group stopped in front of the man’s desk and Sherlock opened the laptop he had brought with them, typing for a moment.

“Brian Lukis,” he said quickly. “Freelance journalist. Murdered in his flat, doors locked from the inside.” He turned the computer to show the Detective Inspector the online article the trio had looked at just before.

“You have to admit, it’s similar,” Maggie told him, crossing her arms. 

Dimmock’s eyes scanned the web page as he scowled a bit at the screen.

John raised his eyebrows at him as he watched. “Both men killed by someone who can walk through solid walls?”

Sherlock placed both hands on the desk, leaning down slightly to look at the man behind it. “Inspector, do you seriously believe that Eddie Van Coon was just another City suicide?” he asked.

The other detective seemed to squirm, refusing to meet the other man’s eyes. Maggie rolled her eyes, sighing. 

“You’ve seen the ballistics report, I suppose?” she asked.

Dimmock nodded.

Sherlock straightened, looking up to the ceiling. “And the shot that killed him: was it fired from his own gun?”

Dimmock’s answer seemed to come even more reluctantly than before. “No,” he murmured.

“No,” Maggie said back, her voice rather hard.

“Right. So,” Sherlock said, looking down at Dimmock, “this investigation might move a bit quicker if you were to take my word as gospel.”

As Dimmock looked back at the detective, refusing to utter a word, Sherlock leaned forward over the man’s desk. He spoke quietly, but with an intensity that showed he was very serious.

“I’ve just handed you a murder inquiry,” he murmured. “Five minutes,” he continued, standing to speak a bit louder. “in his flat.” He finished with a point at Lukis’s picture on the computer.

***

It worked, of course. Dimmock led them to Brian’s flat just a few moments later. Just after entering the doorway to the block of flats, they hurried up a few flights of stairs before reaching the police tape that stretched from the banister to the wall at the base of the final set of stairs. Sherlock, who had somehow made it ahead of everyone else, ducked under the tape quickly while everyone else followed him upwards. The consulting detective’s eyes looked all around him, taking in anything and everything as he stepped up and into the living room of the flat. Maggie’s eyes fell over the piles upon piles of books that lay about. She even recognized a few of the titles.

“Obviously an avid reader,” she murmured quietly.

“Yes,” Sherlock answered. Maggie looked up to see him staring at a small, black, origami flower lying on the carpet by a rather small stack of books. One glance at each other told them what they both were thinking. The flower was almost identical to the one Sherlock pulled from Eddie Van Coon’s mouth. Looking around a bit more, Maggie also noticed many newspapers were scattered all about the place, mostly on the floor, and a suitcase nearby lay open and completely empty.