Upstairs in the living room of the flat, Sherlock is lying stretched out on the sofa with his head towards the window and resting on a cushion. With his jacket off and his shirt sleeves unbuttoned and pushed up his arms, he has his eyes closed and he is pressing the palm of his right hand firmly onto the underside of his left arm just below the elbow. After some seconds his eyes snap open wide and he stares fixedly up towards the ceiling, then he sighs out a noisy breath and relaxes. John comes through the door, then stops and stares as Sherlock repeatedly clenches and unclenches his left fist.

"What are you doing? And where is Dare?" John said.

"Nicotine patch. Helps me think." Sherlock replied calmly "And Dare is in her room taking a nap, she should be awake now. " looking at John's cane. John looks guilty.

Sherlock lifts his right hand to show that he has three round nicotine patches stuck to his arm and it was these which he was pressing against his skin to release the substances more quickly. "Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain work."

John walks further into the room "It's good news for breathing."

"Oh, breathing. Breathing's boring."

"The saddest part is that I, I know you believe that." Dare said coming from the kitchen looking very sleepy. "Hello John. Would you like a cuppa?" The woman greeted John after taking a seat in Sherlock's spot.

"A cuppa would be lovely thank-you" John replied.

"Great, while you're at it can you make me one as well? Two sugars please." The woman replied. Smirking at the look that John was giving her, as if to ask her if she was serious.

"Never mind, you probably won't know where the tea is." Dare got up from her seat and headed to the kitchen turning back to ask what the takes in his tea.

"She's like that sometimes," Sherlock said to answer John's unasked question. "She thinks she's funny" he ended sounding a little annoyed.

"I am funny!" she replied from the kitchen sounding a little offended. Sherlock ignored her statement.

John shock his head the siblings antics then frowns, as he looks more closely at Sherlock's arm "Is that three patches?"

Sherlock presses his hands together in the prayer position under his chin "It's a three-patch problem." He closes his eyes. John looks around the room for a moment, then looks down at Sherlock again.

"Well?" John asked.

Sherlock doesn't respond.

"You asked me to come. I'm assuming it's important."

Sherlock still doesn't respond instantly, but after a couple of seconds his eyes snap open. He doesn't bother turning his head to look at John. "Oh, yeah, of course. Can I borrow your phone?"

"My phone?"

"Don't wanna use mine. Always a chance that the number will be recognised. It's on the website." Sherlock said just as Dare returned to the room with hers and John's tea.

"Mrs. Hudson's got a phone. Dare has her phone."

"Yeah, she's downstairs. I tried shouting but she didn't hear."

"What about Dare's phone?"

"It's on the website too." Sherlock replied absentmindedly.

As soon as he said that Dare choked on her drink "YOU PUT MY PHONE NUMBER ON YOU'RE WEBSITE?!"

"Is this a problem?"

"Yes! It is a problem, what if some creeper guy starts stalking my phone, or what if. . ."

Sherlock cut her off by stating very seriously "We both know that if any of those possibilities happened myself and 'you know who' would put an immediate end to it."

Dare thought about it and nodded in understanding.

"Hmm Sherlock seems like the over protective brother. I wonder who 'you know who' is. Maybe her boyfriend perhaps." John thought.

"Back to the subject at hand, I was the other side of London." John said showing signs that he was starting to get angry.

"There was no hurry." Sherlock replied mildly. Dare rolled her eyes at his reply.

John glares at him as he gazes serenely at the ceiling before closing his eyes again. Eventually John digs his phone out of his jacket pocket and holds it towards him. "Here."

Without opening his eyes, Sherlock holds out his right hand with the palm up. John glowers at him for a moment, then steps forward and slaps the phone into his hand. Sherlock slowly lifts his arm and puts his hands together again, this time with the phone in between his palms. John turns and walks a few paces away before turning around again. "So what's this about – the case?"

"Her case." Sherlock said softly.

"Her case?"

Sherlock opens his eyes "Her suitcase, yes, obviously. The murderer took her suitcase. First big mistake."

"Okay, he took her case. So?"

"It's no use, there's no other way. We'll have to risk it." Sherlock said quietly as if to himself

Raising his voice a little, he imperiously holds the phone out towards John, still not looking at him "On my desk there's a number. I want you to send a text."

John half-smiles in angry disbelief and says tightly "You brought me here ... to send a text."

Sherlock is oblivious to his anger "Text, yes. The number on my desk."

He continues to hold the phone out while John glowers at him, possibly wondering if he can get away with justifiable homicide. Eventually he stomps across the room and snatches the phone from Sherlock's hand. Sherlock refolds his hands under his chin and closes his eyes but instead of going to the table, John walks over to the window and looks out of it into the street below. Sherlock opens his eyes and tilts his head slightly towards him.

"What's wrong?"

"Just met a friend of yours. Both of you."

Sherlock frowns in confusion, and looks to Dare to ask if she knows who he's talking about. Dare gives him a confused look and shrugs her shoulders.

"A friend?" Sherlock questioned.

"An enemy of Sherlock's, but a friend to Dare." John clarified.

Sherlock immediately relaxes, and Dare nods in understanding.

"Oh. Which one?" Sherlock asked calmly.

"Your arch-enemy, according to him." he looks toward Dare and Sherlock "Do people have arch-enemies?"

Sherlock looks towards him, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Did he offer you money to spy on us?"

"Yes."

"Did you take it?"

"No."

"Pity. We could have split the fee three ways. Think it through next time." Dare said starting to sound board with the conversation.

"Who is he?"

Sherlock said softly "The most dangerous man you've ever met, and not my problem right now." more loudly "On my desk, the number.

"John gives him a dark look but Sherlock has already looked away again, John turns to Dare. She gives him an small smile as if to apologise for her brother's rudeness. John walks over to the desk and picks up a piece of paper taken from a luggage label. He looks at the name on the paper. " Jennifer Wilson. That was ... Hang on. Wasn't that the dead woman?"

"Yes. That's not important. Just enter the number."

Shaking his head, John gets his phone out and starts to type the number onto it.

"Are you doing it?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

"Yes."

When Dare noticed John struggling she got up from her seat and walked over to John and held her hand out for the phone. John gave her an embarrassed smile and handed over his phone

"Have you done it?"

"Calm your tits, I'm almost done." Sherlock glared at her, while John was smirking at her comment. "Okay, I'm done."

"These words exactly: 'What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out.'"

Dare stats typing as if not really caring about what he said, while John looks across to Sherlock as if concerned at what he just said. Sherlock continues his narration.

"'Twenty-two Northumberland Street. Please come.'"

John frowns at Sherlock "You blacked out?"

"What? No. No!" Sherlock flips his legs around and stands up, taking the shortest route towards the kitchen – which involves walking over the coffee table beside the sofa rather than around it.

"Type and send it. Quickly." Shortly after Sherlock said this Dare finished the text and handed the phone back to John.

Going into the kitchen, Sherlock picks up a small pink suitcase from a chair and brings it back into the living room. Walking over to the dining table, he lifts one of the dining chairs and flips it around, setting it down in front of one of the two armchairs near the fireplace. He puts the suitcase onto the dining chair and sits down in the armchair.

"Have you sent it?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes." Dare answered.

John looks round as Sherlock unzips the case and flips open the lid, revealing the contents. There are a few items of clothing and underwear – all in varying shades of pink – a washbag, and a paperback novel by Paul Bunch entitled "Come To Bed Eyes". As John turns towards the case he staggers slightly in shock as he realises what he's looking at.

"That's ... that's the pink lady's case. That's Jennifer Wilson's case."

"Yes, obviously." Sherlock replied while studying the case closely.

John looks to Dare to see if she denies it she only looks at the case with distaste. John turns back to the continue to stare at the case, Sherlock looks up at him and then rolls his eyes.

"Oh, perhaps I should mention: we didn't kill her." Sherlock said sarcastically.

"I never said you did." John replied.

"Why not? Given the text I just had you send and the fact I that have her case, it's a perfectly logical assumption."

"Do people usually assume you two are the murderers?"

"Now and then, yes." Sherlock said smirking, causing Dare thump his head. Sherlock glared at her, she gave him an innocent smile. He rolls his eyes before he puts his hands onto the arms of the armchair and lifts his feet up and under him so that he is perching on the seat with his backside braced against the back rest, then clasps his hands under his chin.

"Okay ..." John limps across the room and drops heavily into the armchair on the other side of the fireplace.

"How did you two get this?

"By looking."

"Where?"

"The killer must have driven her to Lauriston Gardens. He could only keep her case by accident if it was in the car. Nobody could be seen with this case without drawing attention – particularly a man, which is statistically more likely – so obviously he'd feel compelled to get rid of it the moment he noticed he still had it. Wouldn't have taken him more than five minutes to realise his mistake. I checked every back street wide enough for a car five minutes from Lauriston Gardens ..."

Cutaway shot of Sherlock and Dare standing on the edge of a rooftop looking down into the streets below as they searches for a glimpse of anywhere the case might have been hidden.

"... and anywhere you could dispose of a bulky object without being observed." Dare finished for him.

Cutaway shot of Sherlock and Dare back on the ground and rooting through a large skip in an alley before Sherlock unearthed the case buried under some black plastic, then checking the luggage label attached to the handle and showed it to Dare.

"Took us less than an hour to find the right skip."

"Pink. You two got all that because you realised the case would be pink?"

"Well, it had to be pink, obviously." Dare said, probably getting tired of the conversation.

"Why didn't I think of that?" John said to himself.

"Because you're an idiot." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock!" Dare said angry because he was bluntly calling someone she considers a friend an idiot.

John looks across to him, startled. Sherlock not even phased by her outburst, makes a placatory gesture with one hand.

"No, no, no, don't look like that. Practically everyone is. Except you Dare." Sherlock said, but he probably added the last part to avoid being hit

Sherlock refolds his hands and then extends his index fingers to point at the case.

"Now, look. Do you see what's missing?"

"From the case? How could I?" John asked.

"Her phone. Where's her mobile phone? There was no phone on the body, there's no phone in the case. We know she had one – that's her number there; Dare just texted it."

"Maybe she left it at home."

Sherlock puts his hands onto the arms of the chair and raises himself up so that he can lower his feet to the floor, then sits down properly on the chair.

"She has a string of lovers and she's careful about it. She never leaves her phone at home." Dare stated.

Sherlock puts the slip of paper back into the luggage label on the case and looks at John expectantly.

"Er ..." John looks down at his mobile phone which he has put onto the arm of his chair.

"Why did Dare just send that text?"

"Well, the question is: where is her phone now?" Sherlock replied.

"She could have lost it."

"Yes, or ...?" Dare hinted.

"The murderer ... You think the murderer has the phone?" John said slowly.

"Maybe she left it when she left her case. Maybe he took it from her for some reason. Either way, the balance of probability is the murderer has her phone." Sherlock said.

"Sorry, what are we doing? Did Dare just text a murderer?! What good will that do?" John asked confused.

As if on cue, his phone begins to ring. He picks it up and looks at the screen for the Caller I.D. It reads:

withheld

calling

He looks across to Sherlock and Dare as the phone continues to ring.

"A few hours after his last victim, and now he receives a text that can only be from her. If somebody had just found that phone they'd ignore a text like that, but the murderer ..." Sherlock pauses dramatically for a moment until the phone stops ringing "... would panic."

Sherlock flips the lid of the suitcase closed and stands up, walking across the room to pick up his jacket and tosses Dare's to her. As John continues to stare down at his phone, Sherlock and Dare put on their jackets on and walks towards the door.

"Have you talked to the police?" John asks after finally looking up.

"Four people are dead. There isn't time to talk to the police." Sherlock replied.

"So why are you both talking to me?"

Sherlock reaches behind the door to take his greatcoat from the hook. As he looks across towards John he notices that something is missing from the mantelpiece.

"Mrs Hudson took my skull." Sherlock answered. Dare rolled her eyes.

"So I'm basically filling in for your skull?"

"Relax, you're doing fine." Sherlock said while putting on his coat.

John doesn't move.

"Well?" Sherlock asked.

"Well what?"

"Well, you could just sit there and watch telly." Dare said.

"What, you want me to come with you two?"

"I like company when I go out, and I think better when I talk aloud and Dare is too smart to need me to explain anything to her. And the skull just attracts attention, so ..."

John smiles briefly.

"Problem?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah, Sergeant Donovan." John said.

"What about her?" Sherlock asked while looking away in exasperation, wile Dare took on a dark look at the mention of Donavan.

"She said ... You get off on this. You enjoy it."

"And we said 'dangerous', and here you are." Dare said not looking as mad as before.

Instantly Sherlock turns and walks out of the door with Dare at his heels. John sits there thoughtfully for a few seconds, then almost angrily leans onto his cane to push himself to his feet and head for the door.

"Damn it!"


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