In the dim lamplight of the flat, with the faint sound of tango music in the background, Sherlock and Robert shared a pot of tea.

"Now, from the beginning. Tell me about Carl Powers."

"It happened soon after I left University. I was home for the summer holidays, and I was bored. We take all of the major newspapers, so I started reading them, and I found an article about a boy named Carl Powers who had died in a swimming accident. The story was written up in more than one paper, and the different accounts had slightly different information, but one of them had a picture of his locker, and there were no shoes in it."

"So what? What do shoes have to do with it?"

"Everything! He walked into the meet wearing shoes. He took them off to swim, but after he was dead, there were no shoes."

"Maybe he took them off nearer the pool and they were misplaced."

"His trousers and his socks were in his locker. Do you suppose that he took off his trousers and socks, but then put his shoes back on to go to the pool?"

"Then, someone must have taken them."

"Yes, exactly! And that is the person who killed him."

"But who would do such a thing, and why?"

"I don't know."

"How did they kill him?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure he was murdered. I can't explain it, but I'm positive."

"I see. Did you tell anyone?"

"Yes, I told Mycroft, and he got me in touch with the police, but they weren't interested in guesses by kids no matter how well-placed their family was. I talked to his mother, but she was useless. I even called the paper, but they refused to consider it. They called it 'sudden cardiac arrest', even though he had no history of heart problems.

"Mycroft told me to forget about it, but I can't. A murderer is still out there, and nobody cares. As long as they have their jobs, and their positions, and their relationships, then they don't care what happens to other people. They don't care about the truth.

"You told me that as scientists we should seek the truth no matter what it should be, and I did, but no one wants to hear it. It's not fair. It's not right. The world shouldn't work that way!

"I want you to teach me, I need you to teach me! Because I think that if I had known what I know now, I might have found the murderer back then. I could have just looked at him, at his collar or his cuffs, or his shoes and known who had done it and why. Then I could have told the police and Carl Powers would have found justice."

"Is that what you want to do, Sherlock, to find justice?"

"I want to find truth. To be able to explain it to people, to prove it when people lie. People lie all the time, and no one ever calls them on it."

"I'm sorry, Sherlock, but that was two years ago. He's dead and buried. Any evidence that would have been there is gone by now."

"I know. But it's like you said. No one really observes anything, and it seems like no one cares. And when I try to talk, no one listens to me. It's as if I don't even speak the same language they do."

Robert bowed his head in thought. Then he looked into Sherlock's eyes. "They don't speak the same language. They speak legalese. If you want to be able to talk to the police, you'll have to learn British Law."

"Law?"

"Yes, and you need to find out what caused this boy's death. If it wasn't a heart attack, what was it? You need to know a bit of anatomy and medicine. And if it was poison, you should know about botany as well. "

"Can you teach me that?"

"No, I don't know any of that. But I can teach you deduction and observation. The rest you can teach yourself."

"I want to start now." Sherlock said rising to his feet.

"No, Sherlock, running isn't the first step. The first step is readying your mind for all of the information that you are planning to put in it. If you want to learn so many new things, you'll need rooms for them. You need to revisit your mind palace and build them. Once you're ready, we'll go to the library and begin. So go take a shower and put on your dressing gown. You should be as comfortable as possible. I'll make you some toast and brew another pot of tea."

Sherlock nodded and went to the bathroom. Robert put on the kettle and the phone rang.

"Hello,"

"Robert Bell?"

"Yes."

"It's Lucille Sharma, from the museum. Did you get the ticket?"

"Lucille, so nice to hear from you again. Yes, I did get it."

"You will come, won't you. I'm really counting on it."

"Well, I wasn't sure, I have some other things on."

"Please, I need your help. There are some visitors coming from a museum in the States, and they are interested in possibly taking my exhibit on tour. It would be a headliner at science museums there and in Canada, but I'm not really the expert on this. You are. Please tell me you'll be there."

"I...I'll try. I may be bringing someone with me. A teen-aged boy. Would that be alright?"

"Bring whoever you want. Bring the whole family, just be there. I owe you."

"Well goodnight, Lucille."

"Goodnight, Robert."

Sherlock came out then, rubbing his wet curls with a towel. Robert put the bread in the toaster.

That evening, Sherlock spent several hours building his Mind Palace. He slept, and then worked on his loci again in the morning. Then they went to the library, and Sherlock began to memorize British Criminal Law. They started with general texts and worked their way toward codes starting with the ones concerning murder.

They came every day. At lunch they would sit on the steps of the library with a sandwich and a cup of tea and try to the deduce the people who passed. Robert refused to let Sherlock take home any of the law books, but he let him check out ones for his own amusement.

Sherlock had always been interested in animals, but now he checked out sensational books about serial killers and horrifying deaths. They didn't seem to be reliable sources to Robert, but everyone needed something to read for fun, no matter how morbid.

The days of summer passed quickly, too quickly. Soon Robert had to face the fact that Autumn term might start before he had found a new job.

One afternoon, Sherlock staggered into the flat with a huge bruise on his leg. When pressed, he explained to Robert that he had continued his running exercises in the city. He had missed a jump, and crashed full-on into a bicycle rack. He'd flipped over it, in fact. Robert covered his leg with ice and left him happily sitting on the couch with a stack of biographies of Jack the Ripper.

Robert was going out. He dressed in his new suit, the one that Sherlock had bought him. it was a stylish cut in a light grey-brown with a silken sheen and was more expensive and far better looking than anything he had ever owned. Sherlock had a excellent eye for fashion.

The museum opening was a large affair, especially to Robert who tended to avoid crowds. Lucille smiled surprised when she saw him. She grabbed his arm and shepherded him through the crowds. The exhibit was attractive. It highlighted many great British discoveries in the history of gases and the visitors were impressed.

"I think that this is exactly the kind of exhibit we want," said a man with the strong Texas accent. "I'm willing to sign you up right now, but we'll need you to come on tour with it, to take care of the equipment and explain things to the museum curators."

"I couldn't possibly," Lucille said. "I have this museum to maintain. How long do you expect this tour to be?"

"Six months at the very least for this exhibit, but we show new exhibits all the time. We'd be willing to offer you a permanent position as traveling curator if you're interested. "

"I'm sorry, but can't leave London. I have family."

"But we need someone to go."

"Robert, could you possibly take a term off of teaching to travel with the exhibit?"

"That would be dandy if you could come with us. You really seem to know your stuff."

"What do you think, Robert? Do you want to visit America? Will the university let you take a sabbatical?"

"I don't work for the University anymore. I resigned."

"You did?" Lucille said surprised.

"You did!" The visitor said delighted. "In that case, let me offer you the position of permanent traveling curator. There is this exhibit to start with, but we usually have five to eight science exhibits circling the globe at any one time. You'd be traveling with them to make sure the installations are done properly, and to check facts. I know it's not like teaching at a University, but you will be helping to spread understanding of science, and there will be lectures. Besides, it's an excellent opportunity to travel. So what do you say?"

"Yes, Robert," Lucille said smiling. "What do you say?"


That evening Robert went back to the flat with a smile on his face. It was about time for him to try something new. If he found that he really missed teaching, then he could always apply again in a year or so. And traveling was something that he had always planned to do, once he had made professor.

He had shaken hands with the man and accepted a verbal promise of employment. They would write up the paperwork tomorrow. Lucille kissed his cheek because his going had cemented the deal to send her exhibit on tour.

He opened the door to find Sherlock lying on the couch listening to his audio recording of 'War of the Worlds'.

"How did it go?" Sherlock asked.

"Wonderful", Robert said. "I was just offered a job."

"And are you going to take it?"

"Yes, I believe I am".

Robert hung up his suit, and went to bed only to be wakened at five thirty the next morning by a phone call. The silken voice on the other end of the line said, "Dr. Bell, this new job of yours is out of the question. There's no possible way that I can allow you to leave the country."