"And that's how I'm here now. You know…" The refine man's boasting was abruptly interrupted by an annoyed cough. Everyone's eyes turned to the shadowy figure that was nonchalantly resting in the corner. He inclined his head toward the crowd while casually smoking a briarwood pipe with a sterling silver band wrapped delicately around it. His black hat was shadowing his face from the nose up, only allowing his slightly chapped lips to be seen in an emotionless smirk.
"Now, I hate to make a scene but I couldn't help but notice your extensive collection of ivory nesting dolls." The English accent in his voice was obvious and left a crisp sting of accusation on the edge of his words.
The deviant statement hung heavy in the dead silence, weighing down every second.
The ambassador stumbled over his words apprehensively, feeling the inundating encumbrance resting on his pudgy shoulders. "Well, thank you. They took quite a lot of money and effort to get."
The figure took another apathetic huff from his wooden pipe and grinned narrowly with a sardonic twinge that was barely identifiable.
"Splendid." The shadowy man stood up and dexterously sauntered over to the ambassador's varying collection. He took his hand that was not holding the pipe and took up a seemingly tenuous doll.
A faint but audible gasp was heard from the alarmed ambassador as the man handled the doll, impassively rotating it so the dimmed light showed every crevice and detail of the ancient doll.
"Magnificent," he said as he moderately placed the doll in its original spot, not a centimeter off from the ring of dust the doll had left on the stand, and returned his hand to his pocket. He fiddled his fingers unobtrusively for a brief moment and took his hand back out to cross his arm over his chest.
"Yet," He continued in a hindering manner. "I am most curious as to how you acquired this fine piece." He gestured toward a doll that had been inconspicuous until this moment. It was smaller than the rest and had an iridescent glow to its paintjob.
"It is a lovely work of art." A sigh escaped his lips. "There's only one other place I have seen these inscriptions."
He looked over the aberrant words, not daring to touch the ethereal doll. " African, I believe."
The ambassador gulped and a meager droplet of sweat slivered down his thick neck. His semblance was flourishing a pale pink.
The man's hat lifted the shadow off of his nose tersely as he sniffed the air unnoticeably taking in every scent wavering in the atmosphere around them.
"Well, I'll best be on my way." The mysterious man tipped his hat and turned to leave.
The ambassador was baffled as the man grasped the door handle. "Wait! Who are you?"
The young man smiled wryly, his back still to the perplexed crowd. "Holmes," he said over his shoulder. "Sherlock Holmes."