The Laws of Attraction - The Blind Banker

The Blind Banker

     Leanna stood in the dimly lit kitchen of 221b Baker Street, pouring boiling water into a teapot.  But, aside from the sloshing of water and the traffic below, everything was silent.  Sherlock stood at the cold fireplace, above which he had posted all his pictures, all his clues, all his leads.  John was at the desk, slumped over more notes, his consciousness steadily slipping away.

     "Always in pairs, John, look."

     Sherlock was the first to make a sound in hours - not that Leanna had minded the quiet.  She heard John grumble as she placed three teacups on a tray.

     "I need to sleep..." he muttered.

     "Why did he paint it so near the tracks?"

     "Just twenty minutes..."

     "Well," Leanna replied as she stepped out of the kitchen with the tea tray, "thousands of people pass by there everyday.  A message, maybe, to those who can read it?"

     She shrugged as she sat across from John, knowing Sherlock likely had an entirely different and far more accurate theory.  She handed John a cup, pouring the tea, smiling at the grateful look he gave her.

     "Of course," Sherlock breathed.

     "What, really?"  Leanna looked at him, his back to her - she couldn't have just said something brilliant, could she have?

     "Of course," he repeated, "he wants information.  He's trying to communicate with his people in the underground; whatever was stolen, he wants it back.  But, we can't crack the code without Soo Lin Yao."

     Suddenly, the detective began ripping down the photographs of the ciphers, immediately bursting with energy and sociopathic intensity.

     "Oh, good," John said, groggy and sarcastic.  He begrudgingly heaved himself out of his chair.

     Leanna called after him.  "But, Sherlock, the time!  The museum is closed!  And the tea -"

     She sighed as the front door slammed shut.  She stood from her own chair, and, retrieving her coat, hurried after them.

     "- will get cold.  Just once, I'd like to finish a hot cup of tea."

     She ran down the street, rejoining her neighbours.  The three of them walked briskly through the late chill and London night-life, returning to the National Antiquities Museum; the place that shrouded the secret of the key to cracking the cipher, Soo Lin Yao.  And, it came into view ahead of them, the grand white pillars illuminated in florescent blue light.  As they neared it, Leanna could see a figure trodding down the steps, head ducked and fists jammed into pockets.

     "Andy!" Sherlock called.  The boy's head jerked up.

     "Mr. Holmes, what are you -?"

     "We need back in."

     "What?  Why?"

     "It's about the case.  It is of the utmost urgency."

     "I'm not really supposed to -"

     "It's about Soo Lin," Leanna cut in.  

    Instantly, his face softened and he looked between the three of them.

     "Well... alright, fine.  Just don't touch anything, or it'll be my neck on the line.  And only for a few minutes."

     "Why?" Sherlock asked, looking him over in the way only he could.  "It's not like you've got plans tonight."