The Blind Banker: Part Three
They found her in the archives hidden away doing her restoration on her teapots, Soo Lin Yao. She had been hiding out in the museum in order to finish her work. Scarlett watched from the side intrigued by the whole process. Soo Lin used tea leaves, not a bag. When she filled the pot she put enough water in so that when she put on the lid the weight displacement would cause hot tea to spill over the outer surface of the pots, coating and therefore preserving it.
She watched tense as Sherlock walked up to her from behind, "Fancy a biscuit with that?"
The moment he had begun to talk Soo Lin had turned in terrified shock and the tiny pot she held had slipped from her delicate fingers. Sherlock's lightening reflects caught it though before it smashed unceremoniously onto the ground.
Handing the pot back to her he said, "Careful, centuries old. Don't wanna break that." He straightened up and flicked the switch on under her work desk which light up the immediate area, "Hello, Soo Lin."
"You saw the cipher." Soo Lin told them. "Then you know he is coming for me."
John had arrived not long after Sherlock had revealed himself to Soo Lin, joining them all at the table.
"You've been clever to avoid him so far." Scarlett told her in earnest.
"I had to finish...to finish this work." She told her. "It's only a matter of time. I know he will find me." She sounded forlorn.
"Who is he?" Sherlock asked the woman. "Have you met him before?"
Soo Lin nodded and bit her lip lightly, "When I was a girl, living back in China. I recognise his... 'Signature'."
"The cipher." John said out loud.
"Only he would do this." Her voice wavered as she said, "Zhi Zhu."
"The Spider." Both she and Sherlock said at once.
Soo Lin pulled her right foot up on her opposite knee; unlaced her shoe and pulled it off slowly to show the three of them the underside of her heel. There, right on the ball of her heel was a black tattoo of a lotus flower.
"You know this mark?" Soo Lin asked them. Scarlett and John shook their heads whilst Sherlock nodded.
"Yes." He said, "It's the mark of a Tong."
"And what's that?" John asked them.
"An ancient crime syndicate based in China."
"Oh," John said in surprise but nodded.
"Every foot soldier bears the mark; everyone who hauls for them." Soo Lin sighed quietly.
Scarlett's eyes widened, "You were a smuggler for them." She realised.
Soo Lin looked down at her foot before placing her shoe back on, "I was fifteen. My parents were dead. I had no livelihood; no way of surviving day to day except to work for the bosses."
"Who are they?" Sherlock asked leaning forward slightly.
"They are called the Black Lotus. By the time I was sixteen, I was taking thousands of pounds' worth of drugs across the border into Hong Kong. But I managed to leave that life behind me. I came to England." Despite herself Soo Lin actually managed to smile a little.
"They gave me a job here. Everything was good; a new life." Her voice was becoming thick, tears glossing over her dark eyes and Scarlett picked up on her over whelming emotion, the despair, the fear, the heart break.
"They came looking for you." Scarlett said, her voice constricted as her throat closed over, she felt as though she was being suffocated. This was often the case when she picked up on overwhelming emotion.
"Yes." Soo Lin nodded sadly. She swallowed and the tears finally began to spill from her doe eyes. "I had hoped after five years maybe they would have forgotten me, but they never really let you leave. A small community like ours – they are never very far away."
She wiped the tears from her eyes hastily before continuing. "He came to my flat. He asked me to help him track down something that was stolen."
"But you didn't know what it was?" John asked her.
Soo Lin shook her head, "It doesn't matter. I refused to help either way."
"So you knew him well when you were living back in China?" John asked leaning forward.
She nodded, "Oh yes." She looked up at Sherlock, "He's my brother. Two orphans." Soo Lin began to disclose to them, "We had no choice. We could work for the Black Lotus, or starve on the streets like beggars."
Soo Lin shook her head up at the ceiling before looking at them seeming not to see them anymore. "My brother has become their puppet; in the power of the one they call Shan – the Black Lotus general. I turned my brother away. He said I had betrayed him. Next day I came to work and the cipher was waiting."
Sherlock laid the photographs on the table, "Can you decipher these?"
Soo Lin leant forward and pointed to the mark beside Sir William's portrait. "These are numbers."
"Yes, we know." Scarlett told her.
"Here: the line across the man's eyes – it's the Chinese number one." Soo Lin told them.
Sherlock pointed to the photo, "And this one is fifteen. But what's the code?"
"All the smugglers know it. It's based upon a book…" Soo Lin began to say but was interrupted when all bar a few of the lights went out.
The young Chinese woman's face turned to one of dread as Sherlock stood, dragging Scarlett up with him as he went.
Soo Lin told them in a terrified voice, "He's here. Zhi Zhu. He has found me."
Sherlock began to drag her out of the room back into the main part of the museum. She guessed that they were meant to be a distraction for Zhi Zhu whilst Soo Lin hid. "Stick with me." Sherlock told her and she nodded in response.
They raced across a large open foyer with a staircase at each end with a balcony surrounding the floor above. They halted in the middle of the foyer and looked around. To her left Scarlett spotted a figure run across the balcony. Seconds later the figure fired a gun at them. She divided to her right behind a low plinth like desk; she looked across the room to see Sherlock in much the same position as herself. They were fired at a couple more times. She chanced a glance around the side of her hiding place to see John running for cover across the foyer.
Scarlett turned her attention back to Sherlock who had his hands braced on the cabinet he was hiding behind preparing to push off and run for it. He gave her a look that clearly said to stay put and she nodded briefly. With that she watched Sherlock hare across the foyer and up the stairs, the figure followed and Scarlett could hear both parties run into another near-by open room. She cringed as she heard more gun fire.
"Careful!" Sherlock's voice made it to the foyer, echoing loudly.
There was another single shot, "Some of those skulls are over two hundred thousand years old! Have a bit of respect!" Sherlock scolded the gunman loudly.
There was a pause of absolute silence until Sherlock broke it after an absence of gunfire, "Thank-you!"
You could have heard a pin drop as Scarlett began to get up. She spotted John looking around from behind a pillar and, double checking the terrace, she made her way towards him. She looked around as a drumming began to sound throughout the museum. It cut off as it reached its climax and there was a beat of silence followed by a single gun-shot.
"Oh my God." She said once she finally realised what had happened.
She raced back across the foyer and into the restoration room, John not far behind her. She entered the room slowly, looking for any signs of the gunman. As they both made their way across the room she let out a slight gasp, Soo Lin's body greeted her. Spread across the desk she had been working at she now held an origami flower in the palm of her outstretched, up turned hand. Scarlett hung back as John walked forward groaning his guilt and despair at the young woman's demise.
-Break Line - Break Line - Break Line -
She found herself glaring at Dimmock's back a little while later whilst she watched her doctor go on the defence.
"How many murders is it gonna take before you start believing that this maniac's out there?" John asked hotly.
Dimmock continued to act as if he was ignoring them before he turned to walk in between them, reaching for another desk. John followed him determinately, "A young girl was gunned down tonight. That's three victims in three days. You're supposed to be finding him."
Sherlock walked across John's path to get to Dimmock and she shot John a sympathetic look as he turned to her in exasperation.
"Brian Lukis and Eddie Van Coon were working for a gang of international smugglers – a gang called the Black Lotus operating here in London right under your nose." Sherlock told him leaning towards the D.I. putting emphasis on the word 'your'.
"Can you prove that?" Dimmock asked him cockily.
"Yes actually." She told the D.I. thinking fast, though he looked sceptical. "We can."
A little while later she had abandoned the three men in the morgue at Bart's and had gone in search of Molly. She found her in the canteen at the self-serve counter.
"Molly!"
The young woman turned and smiled at her as Scarlett walked towards her. She looked down at the options, pork or pasta. "My advice: go with the pasta."
"Yeah, I was thinking that." Molly nodded and scooped some into a bowl. "Are you getting anything?"
"You know, I might. I can't remember the last time I ate." She pulled a bank note from her pocket and picked up a coke and a little further down the line a muffin.
"Well, that's not good." Molly said to her as they got to the pay point. Molly went to pay when Scarlett put her hand up.
"No Molly, let me." She paid for the both of them and walked away.
"You didn't n-" She started as Scarlett began to steer her to the exit.
"I wanted to, you see, I need a favour." She told Molly truthfully.
"Oh, um, what can I do to help?" The woman smiled uncertainly at her.
"Well, I need you to pull up two guys for me." She said with an apologetic look on her face as she said, "Thing is, I know they're on your list."
"I won't harm them or whatever I just need to check out a physical feature." She assured. "If it helps," she tagged on, "It's to prove a guy wrong."
"The guy you were saying is on this case last night?" Scarlett nodded; both she and Sherlock had Molly's number. Sherlock used it when he needed something. She used it to actually attempt to build a relationship with Molly.
"Um…" Molly sounded as she still deliberated.
"And as an added bonus I'll throw in a funny video of Sherlock and John." She smiled her biggest smile.
Ten minutes later Scarlett was back in the morgue, but this time with Molly who helped her get the bodies out on to tables. Once they were, she opened the body bags at the feet end.
"Come here." She said pointing at Dimmock. He walked forward and beheld the black lotus tattoo on Lukis' foot. Scarlett walked over to the other bag, shooting Sherlock a smug look, and proceeded to do the same, revealing an identical tattoo on Van Coon. She watched Dimmock silently sigh in defeat.
"Oh!" She exclaimed in a sarcastic gasp.
"So…?" Dimmock tried to defend himself.
"Sooo…" Scarlett drew out.
"…Either these two men just happened to visit the same Chinese tattoo parlour or we're telling the truth." Sherlock said as he stepped forward away from the wall.
Dimmock sighed again but this time in resignation, "What do you want?"
"Every book from Lukis' and Van Coon's apartment." He told Dimmock.
Eyebrows raised he asked, "Their books?"
-Break Line - Break Line - Break Line –
Back at Two-Two-One-B the three of them walked into the living room and John instantly sat down, shrugging out of his jacket. She stayed by the door, removing her coat.
"So a cult then." Sherlock told the room at large. "Not just a criminal organisation."
"Soo Lin said the name." John said from his seat.
"Yes; General Shan." Scarlett said thinking.
"But we're still no closer to finding them." John said as he rubbed his face.
"Wrong. We've got almost all we need to know. Soo Lin gave us most of the missing pieces." Scarlett told him.
She looked at John, waiting for him to agree. When John said nothing, Sherlock impatiently began to explain. "Why did he need to visit his sister? Why did he need her expertise?"
"She worked at the museum." John said, shaking his head not seeing the significance.
"Exactly." Scarlett stated as she watched the cogs in John's head turn.
When he had finally caught up he said, "An expert in antiquities. Mmm, of course, I see."
"Valuable antiquities - ancient Chinese relics purchased on the black market. China is home to a thousand treasures hidden after Mao's revolution." Sherlock told them.
"And the Black Lotus," Scarlett added, "is selling them." Sherlock turned to her as she said that, his head tilted slightly. She sighed internally, that look would be the death of her.
A little while later she has her mini notebook out and was using it to look at the website Crispians'. The tags she was using being Chinese, Asian art work. John was leaning over Sherlock's shoulder as he sat at the table to look at the screen.
"Here." Sherlock said after a moment. "Arrived from China four days ago."
"You talking about the Ming vases?" Scarlett asked them from across the room.
"Yeah." Sherlock replied as she got up and walked towards them balancing the notebook in the palm of her hand as she looked at the same page.
"'Source – Anonymous'." She read aloud, "The vendor gives no name."
"Two undiscovered treasures from the East." Sherlock marvelled.
"One in Lukis' suitcase and one in Van Coon's." John realised.
Sherlock started to type again saying each word he said as they were typed, "Chinese antiquities sold at auction." She watched as multiple items appeared on Sherlock's computer screen.
"Look," He said pointing at the screen. "Here's another one."
The Chinese ceramic statue had sold for four hundred thousand pounds a month ago according to the data. Scarlett whistled lowly as John consulted Lukis' diary, then the print out of Van Coon's work schedule.
"Ah, look: a month before that – a Chinese painting, half a million." She pointed to the painting on the listing as Sherlock scrolled down the page.
"All of them from an anonymous source. They're stealing them back in China and one by one they're feeding them into Britain." Sherlock realised, a small smile of marvel on his face.
"Huh." John said as he once again consulted both the diaries, "And every single auction coincides with Lukis or Van Coon travelling to China."
"So what?" Scarlett asked in speculation, "One of them got greedy when they were in China? Stole something?"
"And that's why Zhi Zhu's come." John concluded. They were pulled out of their thoughts with a knock at their front door, which they had left open.
"Ooh-ooh!" Mrs Hudson called out to them as the three of them turned to look at her. "Sorry to interrupt but are we collecting for charity, Sherlock?"
"What?" Sherlock answered confused.
"A young man's outside with crates of books." The land lady replied.
Plastic crate after plastic crate are brought into the flat by two policemen, "So, the numbers are references." Sherlock said out loud as yet another crate was placed down.
"To books." John said shortly.
"To specific pages and specific words on those pages." Scarlett corrected him.
"Right, so…fifteen and one: that means…"
"Turn to page fifteen and it's the first word you read." Sherlock cleared up for him.
"Okay. So what's the message?" John asked.
"Depends on the book." Scarlett popped the 'K' at the end of her sentence taking in the multitude of crates now being brought into the room. "And the cunning thing is: It has to be one that they both owned."
John looked about ready to end it as he took in the sight of all the crates either labelled 'Van Coon' or 'Lukis'. "Okay, right. Well, this shouldn't take too long, should it?" He asked in frustrated sarcasm.
She picked a crate at random in the middle of the room, filled open the lid and let out a sigh as she saw how many were in there. She picked one out at random and looked at both its front and back as Dimmock entered and addressed them all.
"We found these, at the museum." He held up a clear evidence bag for them all to see containing the photographs of the wall Sherlock had taken that they had showed Soo Lin. "Is this your writing?" He asked them.
"If you must know, we were hoping Soo Lin could decipher them for us." She told him outstretching her hand silently asking for the bag.
Dimmock nodded and looked around briefly before looking back at her, "Anything else I can do? To assist you, I mean?"
"Some silence right now would be marvellous." Sherlock called over to him from across the room.
Dimmock looked between them all, though Sherlock's back was now turned and biting his lip slightly the young D.I turned tail and left the room.
Before starting on her box of crates Scarlett took a moment to watch Sherlock remove a book from both Van Coon and Lukis' boxes as he realised they were a pair, "Cigarette." She heard him mutter in disappointment as he turned to page fifteen and looked at the first word.
She dutifully began to look into her crate of books to look for pairs. A while passed until she spotted a pairing, well, seven. Two copies of the Harry Potter series looked up at her in each crate, the original colourful copies, not the reprinted black or white covered copies. "Alright, pretty common book series, hang on…"
She picked up and opened the books one by one to page fifteen in ascending order starting with the first in the series. "'Know', 'Harry', 'Inside', 'Now', 'The', 'And', 'Exchange'." She spoke quietly as each word presented them self to her. None of them seemed right and she sighed as she took both series and placed them on the floor by her feet.
Michael McIntyre – Live and Laughing gave her the word 'Neurotic' and Michael Murpergo's Private Peaceful gave her the word 'as'.
They kept on like this all through the night every now and again one of them muttering a word for fear of breaking the others concentration. It was getting light out when Scarlett realised that she was leaning rather heavily on one of Van Coon's ever lightening crates. She backed away and rubbed her eyes tiredly with a yawn.
She blinked wearily in Sherlock's direction as she mussed up her hair slightly in hearing his frustrated sigh. She watched him look despairingly around at the crates and then at her. Too exhausted to do much else she shrugged in a non-committal way.
A piercing noise ripped through the air and she jumped a considerable height, "Jesus christ! It's too early in the morning!" She half yelled half hissed, turning to discover that the noise was coming from John's wrist watch.
"John." She threw a mini pillow from one of the armchairs at him; the pillow sailed across the room and missed the doctor by inches. He jerked awake suddenly and looked at her drowsily, "Turn it off, John!" She said as she flailed at his watch. He did after a second before he placed his head in his hands and sighed.
A little while later John had left for work leaving her and Sherlock in the flat with all the books. She was seriously considering taking a nap in one of the crates as she took out another book with effort. "Get some sleep." Sherlock called to her.
She just laughed, "I will when you do."
A few seconds later her phone rang signalling a call. She took it out, propped her elbow on the edge of the open crate she was stood at and groaned into the receiver, "Hello?"
"Good morning to you to, Niece of mine." Mycroft's cool voice replied.
"No. Sorry, it's just too early for you…" Her eyelids dipped heavily, as her head began to lull to the side.
"Well get up! I have news. You've been given the clear. Your exams are all next week on Thursday." He told her regally.
"Hmm, exams? Oh! My exams!" She practically shouted as her brain clicked and her head shot upwards.
Sherlock turned to look at her as she tried to focus, "Uh, yeah. When was that? Next Thursday? Yeah, sure. Thanks Mycroft."
"How much sleep did you get last night?" He asked her and it was only then she realised that her politeness, void of snide remarks had caused him alarm.
"Oh, you know, one or two..." She tried to sound nonchalant but it wasn't really working.
There was a pause before he finally enquired, "…Hours?"
"More like minutes. I've got to go; I'm in the middle of something right now." She said looking around at the crates tiredly.
He sighed, "Of course you are. Keep an eye on Sherlock for me."
"You should start paying me for that you know." She told him with uncharacteristically cheeky for this time of morning.
"I did offer." He returned in retaliation.
"And I declined, I know, I know." She nodded regretting how much reading Van Coon and Lukis did as she picked up yet another book. "Goodbye Mycroft." With that she ended the call.
"Next Thursday. What if I need you?" She looked up at Sherlock as he glared at her in childish annoyance.
"Four exams, an hour and a half a piece. I'll be gone six hours tops." She smirked, "You telling me that you're so used to having me around you can't function if I'm not here?"
"No." He replied in short irritation.
"Yes," She put the book in her hand she had forgotten about back in its box and stood back. "And I promise, once it's over, I'm all yours."
"You're mine regardless…" He told her with a casual possessiveness looking up at her from the book he had just opened.
"I'm sorry," She said tilting her head with a smirk, "I must have missed the memo where I suddenly and inexplicitly became an inanimate object."
He sniffed, "Not an object, merely indispensable to the case."
"Oh, please. This case will be done by then." She rolled her eyes at his drama.
"I meant any case." He spoke casually but she understood the message underneath. It was his way of telling her he cared.
She smiled slightly as he continued waving his hand in a noncommittal way, "But, by all means, abandon me for meaningless exams."
"They aren't meaningless, Sherlock. I need something to hand over in an interview." She told him practically.
"Why would you be being interviewed?" He asked her confused as his eyebrows kitted together, finger holding the page of the current book he held in place.
"A job?" She told him slowly, "I love this," She said gesturing around to the flat, "But it doesn't pay does it?"
"It can, if you're willing to take clients that pay."
She turned away from him towards the window, "But you never do, not that I'm aware." She turned back to him after realising something, "Sherlock, how do you pay the rent?" His answer was, as standard, a smirk.
She groaned and sat down in one of the arm chairs a few hours later. "Too many books…" she complained, "…My brain is fried!"
Even Sherlock looked frazzled as he rubbed his face tiredly. "You know? I think we need to change tactics. This," He said waving his hands around gesturing to the crates, "is getting us nowhere…" He concluded.
She placed the book she had been holding down and watched as he turned to the bookcase behind him. "A book that everyone would own…" He pulled down three in one go and she walked over to him, her legs stiff through lack of movement.
He had pulled down the Concise Oxford English Dictionary, the Holy Bible and… Syphilis and local contagious disorders…
"Not everyone owns that book, Sherlock." She pointed out. "I didn't even know we had it…" She opened the book to page fifteen gingerly as though she would get all the diseases mentioned in the book. She found entry one on page fifteen quickly, "Nostrils." She said, quietly relieved, god only knew what she could have ended up saying.
"Well the dictionary's given me 'add' and the Bible has given me 'I'." Sherlock said clearly annoyed as John's bedroom door slammed shut as he walked into the main part of the flat. She thought she recalled him coming in about forty minutes ago.
"I need to get some air. We're going out tonight." Sherlock said, as he ruffled up his hair and propped an elbow on the nearest crate.
She caught John's smug smile as he tried to decline, "Actually, I've, er, got a date."
"What?" Sherlock asked abruptly. It amused her that still after all this time he was convinced that the world revolved around him and not the sun.
"It's where two people who like each other go out and have fun." John explained in a simple tone.
"That's what I was suggesting…" Sherlock said slowly in honest confusion.
"No it wasn't… at least I hope not." John sounded hopeful that he was right.
She smirked at Sherlock's sulky expression before she turned to John and asked, "Where are you taking her?"
He smiled at her, "Er, cinema."
"Oh, dull, boring, predictable." Sherlock concluded.
"Oh shush, you!" She said to Sherlock as she picked up the piece of paper she had previously torn away during their walk through the under pass. She handed it over ignoring Sherlock's smug look, "You could try this."
John took it and looked at the piece of paper. The poster piece was advertising the Yellow Dragon Circus and gave the telephone number of the Box Office so you could order tickets.
Sherlock told him, "They're in London for one night only." John chuckled slightly and handed the scrap piece of paper back to Scarlett. She wouldn't say it but she was secretly pleased that he might not go; she didn't want to ruin his date.
"Thanks, but I think I can sort out my own dating advice." He told them.
-Break Line-Break Line-Break Line-
That night they followed John and his date to the Yellow Dragon Circus. Scarlett had made it perfectly clear that even though this was for a case she didn't feel right interrupting John's private life. Sherlock – being the sociopath he was – had basically ignored her and carried on anyway.
They waked not far behind John and his date as they reached the slopping entrance to the building that held the event. Red paper lantern's swung in the breeze gently. She was attempting not to cringe as she heard John pick up his tickets at the entry booth.
"Two for er… Holmes." She heard John say and she hid her face in her hands feeling terrible and awkward.
A second later a male voice replied, "Actually, I have four in that name."
"No, I don't think so. We only booked two." John told the man confused.
That's when Sherlock stepped forward and said to John, "And then I phoned back and got one for myself and Scarlett as well."
"Hi, John…" She waved a little awkwardly as John looked at them in disbelief. Sherlock for his part stepped forward and introduced himself to John's date.
"I'm Sherlock." He said shaking her hand, "And this is Scarlett." He added gesturing to her.
She waved awkwardly again. "Hello…"
The woman glanced at John momentarily and them back to them, slightly hesitant, "Er, hi."
"Hello." Sherlock replied, he gave her a big fake smile and then turned and instantly walked in the other direction. Scarlett shot John an apologetic look and went after Sherlock.
John and Sarah, which Scarlett thought was a bit of a dull name, had followed them shortly after Sherlock had walked off. Sarah had made a detour to the bathroom and as soon as she had left the current argument between Sherlock and John had ensued.
They were stood halfway up the staircase whilst she waited at the top, "You couldn't let me have just one night off?" John bit out incredulously.
"The Yellow Dragon Circus, in London for one day. It fits. The Tong sent an assassin to England…"
"…dressed as a tightrope walker? Come on, Sherlock, behave!"
"We're looking for a killer who can climb." Sherlock defended, "Who can shin up a rope. Where else would you find that level of dexterity? Exit visas are scarce in China. They need a pretty good reason to get out of that country. Now, all I need to do is have a quick look round the place…"
"Fine." John replied shortly, "You do that; I'm gonna take Sarah for a pint."
"I need your help." Sherlock told him sternly.
"You have Scarlett! And I do have a couple of other things on my mind this evening!" John said gesturing to her with a flailing arm.
"Like what?" Sherlock asked oblivious making her face palm.
John started at Sherlock, then up at her and then back to Sherlock, "You are kidding."
"What's so important?" Sherlock insisted.
"Sherlock, I'm right in the middle of a date. D'you want me to chase some killer while I'm trying to…?" He broke off mid-sentence seemingly embarrassed.
"What?" Sherlock asked again, losing patience
John finished much louder than intended, "While I'm trying to get off with Sarah!" It was at that moment Sarah decided to walk around the corner and re-join them.
John did what he could to salvage the situation, "Heyyy." He said, trying and – in her opinion – failing to act casual. All she could do was roll her eyes as Sherlock made his way up the stairs to join her.
"Ready?" She heard John ask his date.
"No," She replied to the question not directed at her quietly so only Sherlock could hear. "I don't want to be here!"
"Behave…" Sherlock warned her idly.
In the performance area there was a stage on one side of the large hall and the curtains are closed. It looked like the stage wasn't going to be used through: a circle of candles has been laid out in the middle of the floor, about thirty feet in diameter. With the room dimly lit the audience began to gather around the circle, remaining stood through lack of seating. The group was somewhat small so they could all stand around the circle of candles comfortably and retain a great view of the performance area. Sarah and John she noticed were stood side by side while Sherlock chose to stand behind them. His back was turned to the couple however and he, like she, was surveying the room.
"You said circus." She heard John tell Sherlock as she made her way back around the circle to their group. "This is not a circus." He continued, "Look at the size of this crowd. Sherlock, this is... art." He finally said as she re-joined them, John for his part was grimacing.
Sherlock turned his head, talking over his shoulder, "This is not their day job." He rallied off quickly.
"No, sorry, I forgot." John sad with an air of annoyance, "They're not a circus; they're a gang of international smugglers."
With that said the already dim lighting gets dimmer signalling the start of the act. The performance begins with someone tapping out a rhythm on a tiny hand drum. Sherlock turned to face the same way as the rest of them whilst John looked over his shoulder at him. All he got for his efforts was one of Sherlock's eyebrow quirks.
An ornately costumed Chinese woman with a heavily painted face known traditionally as the Opera Singer she recalled walked into the centre of the circle and looked imperiously out at them all before raising a hand in the air signalling for the drummer to finish his riff. The Opera Singer walked across the circle to a large object covered with a cloth which she pulled back to reveal an antique-looking crossbow on a stand. She picked up a long thick wooden arrow with white feathers at one end and a vicious metal point at the other and showed it to the audience before fitting it into place in the crossbow.
Straightening up, the woman pulled a single small white feather from her headdress, again taking care to show it to them all. On the rear of the crossbow was a small metal cup, she gently dropped the feather into it. Instantly the arrow is released from its confines and whizzed across the room. Her head whipped around to follow its flight whilst she heard others still gasping from the sound of its release. A moment later, the arrow is embedded in a large painted board on the other side of the circle. She watched slightly awkward as Sarah turned to John and laughs, dramatically putting her hand over her heart.
As they all applauded as a musical instrumental started up, whilst a new character entered the circle. He wore chainmail and an ornate head mask. He held his arms out to the sides and two men made their way over to him and started to attach heavy chains and straps to him. They strapped his now-folded arms in front of him, strait-jacket style and then backed him up against the board and started to chain him to it.
Sherlock, unnoticed had come and stood behind her which ultimately broke her concentration as he told her softly, "Classic Chinese escapology act."
"Oh, yeah?" She asked over her shoulder.
He nodded, "The crossbow's on a delicate string. The warrior has to escape his bonds before it fires."
As Sherlock told her this she watched the Opera Singer load another arrow into the crossbow. The men attached more padlocks and chains and one of them pulled a chain tight, yanking the warrior's head back against the board. She grimaced as the warrior cried out. The men looped the chains through solid rings attached to the board to secure the warrior, who cried out again at the painful movement. Once the men had finished, they stepped away. The music began to build up in intensity and cymbals unexpectedly crashed making her flinch ever so slightly.
Sarah must have jumped because a second later Scarlett heard, "Oh, Gawd! I'm sorry!" She didn't bother to look round. Sarah had probably griped John's arm in shock. She still didn't turn to them as she heard John laugh slightly.
The Opera Singer picked up a small knife and displayed it to them all. Sherlock softly continued his narration, "She splits the sandbag; the sand pours out; gradually the weight lowers into the bowl."
The Opera Singer did just what Sherlock predicted – she reached up to a small sandbag hanging on a long cable and stabbed the knife into the bottom of the sack. Sand began to pour out, and the warrior repeatedly cried out with effort as he tugged at his chains. The sandbag's cable was looped over a pulley and a metal ball was attached to the other end. As the sand continued to pour out of the bag the weight lowered towards the bowl at the back of the crossbow. The warrior managed to get one of his hands free.
She surveyed the weight lower to the point where it crossed vertical paths with the ever decreasing sandbag. She spared a quick glance at the warrior and saw that he had managed to free his other hand. He began to tug at the chains that bound him around his neck as the weight hung – still lowering – a few feet above the bowl.
Scarlett couldn't help but grimace as the weight swung just above the lip of the bowl. The warrior was still stuck and struggling to free himself. She held her breath as the arrow streaked across the room towards the warrior as the weight finally touched the bowl. He was quick though and the warrior managed to free himself from his confines and duck down just as the arrow speared the board where – only a second previously – his head had been.
They all started to clap in relief, "Thank God." Sarah said from somewhere next to her.
John replied with, "My God!"
The warrior stood up straight and outstretched his arms taking the applause. She clapped along with the others and when she turned to speak to him, Sherlock had gone. He had most likely gone to survey the area whilst everyone was distracted she concluded. She looked around quickly as the Opera Singer took centre ring once more but could not see Sherlock in the room.
The Opera Singer raised a hand to halt the audience's applause before saying, "Ladies and gentlemen, from the distant moonlight shores of the Yangtze River, we present for your pleasure the deadly Chinese bird-spider."
A masked acrobat descended from the ceiling as the woman walked away, rolling through the air as the broad red band wrapped around his waist unravelled. They all applauded and the acrobat stopped a couple of feet above the ground, holding his body parallel to the floor.
"Did you see that?!" She heard John ask Sarah and now Scarlett officially felt third-wheelish.
She refocused on the acrobat who was descending to the floor. Once firmly on the ground the acrobat removed the band from around his waist and split it, revealing that it was made up of two strips of material which he began to wrap around his arms. When this task was complete he began to run quickly around the circle before he took his weight on the bands, lifting into the air and flying around in a circle several feet above the ground, the red bands soaring out behind him.
A few moments later whilst the acrobat was still preforming Scarlett's attention was drawn to the stage across the room from where she stood. The curtains that were closed had begun to billow and budge in the middle. She clapped absently as the rest of the crowd did but, still focused on the curtain, she began to walk around the circle to the staged area.
She managed to jump onto the stage successfully and was about to open the curtains when Sherlock came flying through them backwards. He by-passed the stage completely and landed with a thud on the hard ground. She was so intent on observing Sherlock that she failed to notice the warrior that came running after him through the curtains.
Sherlock tried and failed to stand, he was clearly winded. he couldn't move fast at all. The warrior jumped forward and she caught the glint of a blade. Scarlett acted on instinct and before man could cause any harm to Sherlock she jumped onto his back and made a grab for the blade he held in his hand.
"Give…that…here…" She struggled to grit out as the bigger man flayed underneath her trying to throw her off. He couldn't quite manage it though and as they struggled she saw John go down as he tried to help.
She noticed the audience flee as she still struggled; Sarah was running towards them all. Did she have a broom?! Scarlett managed to twist the man's wrist ensuring that he dropped the blade before he successfully managed to shake her off with an elbow to the stomach.
The warrior reached for a second blade attached to his belt, a sword. She could tell that he had every intention of delivering a blow to Sherlock. Before Scarlett could act however Sarah came running up next to her and with a great amount of strength and effort slammed the broom handle across the man's head. She watched as Sarah then continued to whack the man twice across the ribs with the wooden broom handle. The warrior fell to the ground with a stagger, close to unconsciousness.
The older woman straightened up breathlessly Sherlock finally managed to sit up, pulling the right shoe off of the warrior's foot, "There!" He cried before staggering to his feet, "The mark of the Tong. Come on, let's go!" With that said he made an unsteady dash for the exit, the rest of them following.
-Break Line- Break Line- Break Line-
She found herself chasing after Dimmock a little while later who really didn't want to listen to anything they wanted to say. The man stormed onto the office floor clearly less than pleased.
"I sent a couple of cars. The old hall is totally deserted." He huffed in annoyance.
"Look," Sherlock but in hastily, getting annoyed also, "I saw the mark at the circus – that tattoo that we saw on the two bodies: the mark of the Tong."
Dimmock now having reached his desk turned to look at them all – a rather bewildered looking Sarah included – as Scarlett said, "Lukis and Van Coon were part of a-a smuggling operation. Now, one of them stole something when they were in China; something valuable."
"These circus performers were gang members sent here to get it back." Sherlock concluded.
"Get what back?" Dimmock asked rationally.
Sherlock bit his lip and looked away angrily as John sighed, "We don't know." The doctor confessed finally after some hesitation.
"You don't know." Dimmock stated with an incredulous look on his face. "Mr. Holmes..." The young DI continued as he sat down, "I've done everything you asked. Lestrade, he seems to think your advice is worth something."
She couldn't help but give a small proud smile at that idea before Dimmock continued, "I gave the order for a raid. Please tell me I'll have something to show for it – other than a massive bill for overtime."
Evening all,
Yet another update for you all! I still own nothing apart from the original charaters!
Thanks to: sehnsuct for favoriting and following and to Uncreditedwriter for the favourite!
As always I'm dying for feedback so please comment! :)
Your obsessed writer,
HH