Eye Contact *ON HOLD*

Graffiti & Receipts

Sherlock seemed to get an idea after staring at the pictures intently for a few minutes, and this idea led to the trio leaving for Trafalgar Square. Walking through it by a fountain, Sherlock began speaking to them.

“The world is run on codes and ciphers,” he said as he continued at his quickened pace. “Everywhere, from the security system at the bank worth a million pounds to that PIN machine you took exception to at the store, John, cryptography inhabits our every waking moment.”

“Yes,” John said. “Okay, but?”

“But it’s all computer-generated,” Sherlock continued. “Electronic codes, electronic ciphering methods. This is different. It’s an ancient device, so-”

“So modern code-breaking methods won’t unravel it?” Maggie asked.

“Exactly.”

“So where are we headed?” John asked.

“I need to ask some advice.”

“What?” John asked, his eyebrows shooting up just as Maggie’s did as well.

“Sorry?” she asked, thinking she heard him wrong.

Sherlock turned his head as they made their way up the steps of the National Gallery to give them each a dark look.

“You heard me perfectly,” he said in an annoyed tone. “I’m not saying it again.”

John gave him a joking smile. “You need advice?”

“On painting, yes,” Sherlock said, continuing up the steps as they followed. “I need to talk to an expert.”

John and Maggie shared an amused look behind the detective’s back as he led them toward the Gallery, but were surprised to find that instead of an expert inside the Gallery, Sherlock had an expert all the way around it, at the rear of the building in the alleyway. They were even more surprised to find that his expert was a young man spray painting an image on one of the metal doors that led into the back of the gallery.

The image was of a policeman holding a rifle, but instead of a human nose, the man had a pig’s snout. His tag was below the image, the name RAZ painted in black, just like the rest of his artwork. The man was holding a can of paint in both hands, adding the final touches to the paint. A large canvas bag lay near his feet, filled with even more cans of paint in various colors. He continued his work as they approached, not even looking up to see who they were.

“Part of a new exhibition,” he commented as they reached him.

“Interesting,” Sherlock said, his voice showing that he was particularly uninterested.

The man sprayed in a few spots before leaning back to look at the work as a whole. “I call it: ‘Urban Bloodlust Frenzy,’” he said, shaking the paint cans with a smile. He chuckled a bit.

“Catchy,” John said, a bit of sarcasm slipping into his voice.

Raz ignored him, continuing to spray away. “I’ve got two minutes before a Community Support Officer comes round that corner,” he said.

“I’d say one and a half,” Maggie commented, looking at the alley way entrance as she remembered seeing the officers in the square.

Raz stopped sprayed for just a moment as he looked round to Sherlock. “Can we do this while I’m workin’?” he asked.

Sherlock pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it, holding it out to Raz. Raz looked at the phone then back up to the detective before turning to toss one of his paint cans to John, who caught it instinctively. As John looked at the men in slight shock, as if wondering why he had to hold the paint can, Raz took the phone from Sherlock with his now free hand. The image on the screen was of the graffiti from the bank.