Rachel made her way down the stairs to the main sitting area. Sherlock was furiously typing away at a laptop and John was bustling around the kitchen. It all looked so normal.
Sherlock had a biscuit tin similar to hers on the table next to him, but it had different image on it.
"Is that … Paul's tin?"
"Excellent, Rachel! It's always nice to deal with people who have some semblance of intellect. This is indeed the biscuit tin from Paul and Trevor's kitchen. And do you want to hazard a guess what is inside it?"
"Another safe?" Rachel hazarded.
"No, but there was this." Sherlock handed her a folded up piece of paper. Rachel unwrapped it and a small key fell out of the paper. There was also a receipt for post office not too far away, near St Paul's cathedral and the number 259 written on it.
"So we head to St Paul's post office and try the key on post box 259?" Rachel was confused.
"I tried that already, doesn't fit. In fact, the post office shut down earlier this year. No, no, your brother was smarter than that. He is pointing us in another direction… I just need to figure it out." Sherlock slumped back into his chair and proceeded to ignore John and Rachel while they made breakfast.
It was cosy and Rachel could feel the tension seeping away from her. She kept on glancing at John and looked away whenever he looked at her. He had eventually convinced her to use and abuse the shower and handed her one of his shirts to wear until she got back to the shops. She didn't want to go back to Harringay just yet. Just before she stepped into the shower, she turned to John.
"If my phone does ring while I am in there, please answer it. If it is that person I don't want to rile him up any more than I have to. I still don't know what he is looking for. "
"Will do. I'll see you in a few minutes, we aren't going anywhere."
With a smile Rachel stepped into the shower. The second John heard the water running Sherlock grabbed Rachel's phone.
He copied the number from the earlier text message and dialled it from his phone.
"What do you think you are doing?"
"Getting us more information, if there really are a bunch of people running around with the intent of blowing something up, don't you think we should find out more? Now shush, it's ringing. "
Sherlock put the phone on speaker and didn't make a sound when the phone was answered.
"Hello, this is Simeon. Jim, is that you?" A male voice asked. They could hear the rush of water and a ferry horn in the background.
"Hello? Anyone there? Sod this. Must've been butt dialled or something." The man hung up.
"And how was that useful?" John was confused. He would've expected Sherlock to speak to the man on the phone, to dazzle and bully him with his intellect.
"Oh think, John. We now know that this number belongs to Simeon so if we save it to her phone like so… " Sherlock pressed a few numbers "it won't say number withheld when he dials. And we now also know that Simeon is expecting a call from Jim, who might be one of his co-conspirators. We also know that he is London, as only London ferries' horns use the C sharp horn."
"That was amazing."
"I suppose it could be. Now do you think she'll finish up before all the hot water is gone?"
Text to: G Lestrade
Any terrorists with a name called Simeon or Jim? SH. 10:45
Text from: G Lestrade
Any reason why you're asking? 10:48
Text to: G Lestrade
Might be a matter of national security or just amateur terrorists. More info to come 10:50
Rachel limped out of the shower. The last few days had been hell on her leg and she'd been neglecting her exercises. It was agony to put her clothes back on but she didn't want to prance naked in front of John and Sherlock. The bathroom was steamed up and she dug through the cabinets in search of something to straighten her hair with. She giggled when she found the hair products shelf; the guys had more product than her! She also found some moisturiser and wondered which one of the two was the metrosexual. Feeling more human she left the bathroom and was impressed by the cloud of steam that followed her as soon as she opened the door. A few agonising steps and she collapsed on the sofa. She placed her hands on the ligaments surrounding her knee and massaged the knotted flesh.
"May I?" John sat down next to her and held his hands over her knee.
"Of course. It felt fine this morning but the shower must've triggered something. It comes and goes, but I don't also spend as much time on my feet as I've done lately."
John softly moved his hand over leg and pressed in a few key spots. He was surprised how swollen the joint was
"I'm going to have to look at it with out your trousers in the way. Just let me…" he motioned as if he was going to roll up the trouser leg but Rachel stopped him.
"No, thank you. I don't…. people shouldn't have to look at scars like mine."
"Rachel I'm a doctor. I was an army surgeon. I have seen injuries that are horrific and somehow I doubt that your knee will rank in my top 10 of worst injuries seen, unless you are hiding a tacky tattoo. I can't help you if I can't see where the scar tissue is."
Rachel bit her lip in anxiety. No one had seen the extent of her injuries, except the emergency personnel after the accident. She'd been careful to hide the true extent of it to everyone. She slowly nodded, and before she could change her mind John pushed the pipe up.
Her knee was a mess of faded scar tissue, but the flesh was swollen and tender. John softly pressed here and there, and pronounced it inflamed. A few tablets of ibuprofen and she should be fine. Rachel refused to meet his eyes; she didn't want to know if he was looking at her with pity.
"You're going to need this today" John handed her his cane. It's been ages since he's needed it. Rachel flexes her fingers around the knob at the end and with great effort, pulls herself up. Her knee twinges from the exertion but the cane takes most of the pressure and she could feel the pain dulling to a throb.
Rachel takes a few experimental steps around the apartment before she finds her stride. The cane does make it easier for her to walk, and she decides that comfort can take precedence over style, at least for today.
"Oh, how I love our interconnected society. Thanks to Facebook life is just so much easer! Behold!" Sherlock chortled with glee and turned the laptop's screen that he was working on towards Rachel.
"Your brother never logged out of his Facebook account on his laptop, and here we can see our conspirators. Simeon McCaucus-Bigg, Jim Clancy and Liz Barrett are all on his friends list and look… here are their phone numbers. So easy!"
John stifled a grin when Sherlock read out all the names.
"I don't think that is Simeon's real last name Sherlock." Even Rachel looked amused by the name. Sherlock sounded it out a few times before a belated grin came over his face.
"Oh how infantile. Makes me bored with the whole thing again." Sherlock started clicking through the message history and was just about to read a particularly riveting love note between Paul and Trevor when the chat box opened up.
Liz Barrett: Paul, thank God, you ok? Why aren't u answering ur phone?
Rachel instantly focused on the message from Liz. It was clear that she had known that Paul had been in over his head with something. Sherlock tilted his head in thought, and rapidly replied
Paul Templeton: Managed to get out ok, but am a bit banged up. Can you help?
Liz Barrett: So glad you are ok. Want me to bring Simeon too?
Paul Templeton: No, just you.
Liz Barrett. Ok. I can do that. Meet you at the sandwich shop?
Sherlock shook his head. "Too many sandwich shops in the area, we'll never know which one she means. Suggestions for meeting location?"
"How about a coffee shop at a train station? Less chance of being suspicious there." John suggested.
Sherlock shook his head. "Too many chances of her being tailed. I think we should try for something a little bit in your face".
Paul Templeton: Bunhill Fields cemetery. I'll be near the caretakers office. Bring food, please.
Liz Barrett: That's ages away, are you sure?
Paul Templeton: I have to go, c ya laters
Sherlock closed the chat function and waited to see what Liz would do. Sure enough, as soon as Sherlock made Paul's feed less live saw Liz's new status update.
"The day just gets more surprising. Hooray for finding old friends."
Sherlock smiled a lazy smile and pulled out his mobile.
Text to: G Lestrade
I have a break with our bumbling terrorists. Meet me Bunhill Fields. Bring a gun
Text from: G Lestrade
Christ, don't you believe in weekends?
Text to: G Lestrade
The roast your wife just put in front of you was undercooked anyway
"Let's go look at some historic graves." Sherlock flamboyantly tied his scarf and gestured Rachel and John out the door.