Forty-Seven, Sherlock Holmes thought to himself. That's forty-seven different individuals he spotted that were dressed in cloaks. Sherlock Holmes may, as John likes to put it, lack all sense of normalcy but he learned over the years that this was most definitely an odd occurrence. This oddity has plagued his mind all day long since he spotted the first cloaked figure.
"That is a case for another time, Sherlock." he whispered to him as his place in line got closer to the front. He was currently in line at a Auto repair shop. This particular store was a front for a mob operation. Last night a shipment of luxury cars, from Italy, were stolen from the docks. Normally a case like this was too, for lack of a better word, boring for Sherlock to undertake. But it was something about the way Mycroft spoke that lead him to believe that there was something more to this case than he was told. What, he did not know but would find out in time. He always did.
"Hello, may I help you?" The desk worker asked.
"Yes." Sherlock replied matching the man's Russian accent perfectly. "I'm here to find out about a new "Shipment" that came through last night."
"Shipment, I have no idea what you're talking about." He lying, the corner of his mouth and eyes twitch. "Please leave from here."
"The thing is i'm not here to ask about the cars you stole." Sherlock said, leaning closer. "My boss is actually more interested in what's inside ONE of them." he finished.
"Inside?" The Russian man replied.
"Oh yes. You see whats inside one of them is very- lets just say accident prone. And my boss and I would be very pleased if it didn't fell into the "right" hands, if you catch my drift." Sherlock eyed the man. He could tell that he had no idea that there was anything in the cars that he stole, to be fair neither did Sherlock but the odds were in his favor, but he was buying what Sherlock was selling.
"I'm sorry sir. No stolen cars here." The man replied after a moments pause.
"Well I guess I have the wrong address then." Sherlock said, before turning and walking out of the store to where John waited across the street.
They where two blocks away from the auto shop, when John finally decided to ask how it went because it was becoming clear that Sherlock wasn't going too.
"We have them in Check, my dear Watson. All we have to do is wait and they will lead us right to the luxar- Forty-Eight."
"Sorry?" John asked puzzled "Forty-Eight what?
"John, I think I might be going crazy." Sherlock said. He ignored John's rude comments, as he watch yet another cloaked figure. He watched as this cloak man went inside an old London phone booth and put the receiver to his ear. All without paying the proper coinage.
"Odd." John asked a question to try and figure out what, but Sherlock just let his finger answer for him.
"So, what it's a nutter in a cloak. It's London mate." Sherlock took this time to inform his colleague this was the Forty-eighth person today he saw donning a cloak. "Like I said, London." Both of the men were now intently watching the man in the booth. John out of pure boredom but Sherlock was looking for...for... more. More than he was suppose to see, for more that was there. As he watched he saw the impossible happen. One second the man was there, just standing in the booth and the next gone. Poof. Like magic.
"What?" John said, rubbing his eyes because clearly they were lying to him. "Did you just see that?"
Sherlock had a smile on his face. A real one, not one of the fake one's he learned to put on for John, Mycroft or Mrs. Hudson. No, Sherlock hadn't felt this kind of genuine excitement in a long time. Certainly not since the triple homicide last spring.
"John, my friend, I think we just happened upon some thing huge."
And with that They took off toward the old London phone booth.