Sherlock took off down the street to go and see Van Coon's assistant. Watson watched him go and rolled his eyes before hailing a cab. He noticed a woman taking a photograph of him as the cab pulled over. He nervously got into the cab.
"Scotland Yard, please." He asked. The taxi driver nodded and took off. Watson turned to look at the woman who snapped the photo and saw she was gone.
"Flew back from Dalian Friday. Looks like he had back-to-back meetings with the sales team." Van Coon's assistant explained to Sherlock. Sherlock perked an eyebrow.
"Can you print me up a copy?" He asked.
"Sure." She replied. The printer began to warm up. Sherlock's eye wandered across the dates on his calendar.
"What about the day he died? Can you tell me where he was?" Sherlock asked as they waited for the printer. The woman nodded and scrolled over. The date was empty. Sherlock frowned.
"Sorry. Bit of a gap." The woman shrugged. "I have all his receipts?" She suggested.
"Let me take a look at those," Sherlock asked.
Céline and Watson were standing at her desk. She had returned to Scotland Yard when he texted her, asking for her help. There was a box of Brian Lukis's possessions sitting between them. Céline was digging for Lukis's diary as Watson watched.
"I've been asking him to apologize. Has he?" Watson asked. Céline shook her head.
"Not a word." She replied, annoyed. Watson frowned and scoffed. "Honestly, I don't understand him." She continued.
"Me either." Watson agreed.
"Mycroft picked me up for lunch earlier," Céline spoke up. Watson looked surprised.
"Why?" Watson asked. He hadn't seen Mycroft since their first meeting. Céline shrugged.
"To talk about it. Apparently, he thinks Sherlock just can't stand the thought of another man in my life because he likes me." Céline explained. She didn't really believe him. She was still in denial about Sherlock's feelings. Watson noticed.
"Well, it's pretty obvious that's why," Watson suggested. Céline froze from rummaging around the box and looked up at him. Crossing her arms.
"Do you really think so?" She asked. Watson nodded. She sighed and went back to digging through the box for the diary.
"How do you feel about him?" Watson asked. Céline chuckled.
"Mycroft asked me the same thing." She explained before trailing off. "To be honest with you, I don't know. I guess I never thought of him that way so, I'm still trying to figure out how I feel." She found the diary and passed it to John. "Is this it?" Watson nodded, flipping through it.
"It is." He spoke. Céline watched as he flipped through. There was a boarding pass being used as a bookmark. It was from Dalian DLC to London LHR on Zhuang Airlines. Watson and Céline exchanged confused glances.
"What kind of a boss was he? Appreciative?" Sherlock asked as he looked through Van Coon's receipts. He had noticed that she had multiple gifts from him around her office.
"Um, no. That's not a word I'd use. The only things Eddie appreciated had a big price tag." The assistant answered. Sherlock looked up at her.
"Like that hand cream. He bought that for you, didn't he?" He flatly asked, surprising her. She was having an affair with him. Like Céline had been with Lestrade. Sherlock noticed a receipt from a taxi for the day he died and changed the subject. "Look at this one. Got a taxi from home on the day he died. Eighteen pounds fifty."
"That would get him to the office." The assistant shrugged. Sherlock shook his head.
"Not rush hour, check the time. Mid-morning. Eighteen would get him as far as…" Sherlock began.
"The West End. I remember him saying." She finished. He also finds a ticket with the same date from Piccadilly.
"Underground. Printed at one in Piccadilly." Sherlock observed.
"So he got a Tube back to the office. Why would he get a taxi into town and then the Tube back?" She asked, confused.
"Because he was delivering something heavy. Didn't want to lug a package up the escalator." Sherlock explained. The woman's face curled up in confusion.
"Delivering?" She asked. Sherlock found a final receipt from a lunch spot.
"To somewhere near Piccadilly Station. Dropped the package, delivered it and then stopped on his way. He got peckish." Sherlock explained. He quickly stood and thanked her before leaving. He texted Watson.
Meet me at the espresso bar in Piccadilly.
Watson got the text message as he and Céline were about to leave Scotland Yard.
"He wants me to meet him in Piccadilly. He went to talk to Van Coon's assistant." Watson explained. "Do you want to come?" He asked. Céline thought for a second and nodded.
"Sure, I'll come." She nodded. They took a taxi and found Sherlock pacing outside the espresso bar. Céline suddenly felt really nervous. Watson approached.
"So you bought your lunch from here en route to the station, but where were you headed from? Where did the taxi drop you?" Sherlock asked himself. Watson cleared his throat, making Sherlock jump. He looked from Watson to Céline and quickly looked back to Watson.
"Right," Watson spoke. Sherlock and Céline both cleared their throats nervously. Sherlock quickly tried to fill the silence.
"Eddie Van Coon brought a package here the day he died. Whatever was hidden inside that case. I've managed to piece together a picture using scraps of information…" As Sherlock spoke Watson glanced down at the diary than to a shop right across the road in Chinatown.
"Sherlock." Watson began. Sherlock kept talking. He was so nervous that he didn't hear Watson.
"…credit card bills, receipts. He flew back from China, then he came here. Somewhere in this street, somewhere near. I don't know where, but…" He continued. Céline noticed Watson trying to point something out to Sherlock.
"Sherlock!" Céline snapped. Sherlock froze and looked at her expectantly. "Watson is trying to say something." Sherlock looked at Watson. Watson pointed toward the shop across the street.
"That shop over there," Watson observed. Sherlock looked at the shop and grimaced.
"How can you tell?" He asked, not convinced.
"Lukis' diary," Watson observed. "He was here too. He wrote down the address." Watson grabbed Céline's arm and led her toward the shop. Sherlock frowned and followed. The shop was touristy and filled with various trinkets and cat statues.
"Hello." Céline smiled at the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper lifted a cat from her desk.
"Miss, do you want a lucky cat?" The shopkeeper asked. Céline shook her head. Sherlock lingered behind her as Watson went to look around the store.
"No thank you." Céline declined. The shopkeeper looked from Céline to Sherlock.
"Only ten pounds." The shopkeeper explained.
"No, thank you, but no." Céline declined again. The shopkeeper looked over to Sherlock.
"You should buy it for your wife. She will like it!" As the shopkeeper spoke she gestured to Céline. Sherlock turned bright red and stormed away into the shop. Céline nervously laughed.
"Sherlock? Céline?" Watson called from the back of the store. Céline smiled at the shopkeeper before going over to Watson with Sherlock. There was a symbol he showed them underneath a teacup, it was the same one that had been painted in the bank. "The label," Watson spoke.
"Yes, I see it." Sherlock frowned.
"Exactly the same as the cipher." Watson quietly spoke. Sherlock led the group out. "It's an ancient number system! Hangzhou." Sherlock explained. "These days, only street traders use it. Those were numbers written on the wall at the bank and at the library. Numbers are written in an ancient Chinese dialect." Watson and Sherlock checked the symbol against a number chart on Sherlock's phone.
"It's a fifteen! What we thought was the artist's tag it's a number fifteen." He exclaimed. Céline watched the two men.
"And the blindfold, the horizontal line? That was a number as well." Sherlock observed. "The Chinese number one, John."
"We've found it!" Watson excitedly spoke. As the three of them went to leave to the expresso bar Watson noticed the woman who took a photo of him again. Before he could point her out she disappeared into a crowd.
About an hour later it was late afternoon and the three were staking out the tourist shop at the espresso bar. Céline was sipping from a cappuccino. Sherlock sat closely beside her silently. Watson was eating.
"So two men travel back from China. They both head straight for the Lucky Cat Emporium. What do they see?" Céline asked.
"It's not what they see, it's what they both bring back in those suitcases," Sherlock suggested. Watson looked at both of them.
"And you don't mean duty-free." Watson quipped. Céline giggled and Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Watson, think about what Sebastian told us, about Van Coon about how he stayed afloat in the market," Sherlock spoke.
"Lost five million made it back in a week," Watson remembered. Céline perked an eyebrow.
"That's how he made such easy money," Sherlock observed.
"So he was a smuggler?" Céline asked. "Him and Lukis?" Sherlock nodded.
"Two guys like them, it would have been perfect," Sherlock spoke.
"A businessman making frequent trips to Asia, and a journalist writing about China…" Céline observed.
"Both of them smuggled stuff out, and the Lucky Cat was their drop-off." Sherlock nodded. Céline frowned.
"But why did they die? I mean, it doesn't make sense." She asked, looking to Sherlock. Watson nodded.
"You're right, if they both turn up at the shop and deliver the goods, why would someone threaten them and kill them after the event, after they'd finished the job?" Watson agreed. The two watched Sherlock as he sat back for a few moments. He smirked and grabbed Céline's arm to make sure he had her attention.
"What if one of them was light-fingered?" Sherlock suggested to her. Céline perked up.
"And stole something from the loot?" Céline nodded.
"And the killer doesn't know which of them took it, so he threatens them both." Sherlock agreed. Watson watched them and smiled. Suddenly Sherlock got distracted by something outside.
"Remind me when was the last time that it rained?" He asked before getting up and leaving. Céline quickly jumped up after him and Watson exasperatedly followed, leaving his meal behind. Sherlock knelt by a directory on the foot of a flat complex. "It's been here since Monday," Sherlock observed as Céline walked up. Céline frowned and looked at the doorbells of the flat. She pressed one for Soo Lin Yao. Her and Sherlock waited for a reply. Watson walked up behind them.
"No one's been in that flat for at least three days," Sherlock observed to Céline.
"Could've gone on holiday?" Watson suggested. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Do you leave your windows open when you go on holiday?" Sherlock asked. Watson frowned. "I'm going up." Watson and Céline watched and stayed behind as Sherlock climbed the fire escape to get into the apartment. When Sherlock got into the apartment he almost knocked down a vase. But he caught it before it fell. He saw a small wet spot on the rug where the vase would have fallen.
"Someone else has been here…" He observed to himself. "Somebody else broke into the flat and knocked over the vase just like I did." He looked around. Céline and Watson returned to the front door and Watson was pressing the doorbell over and over again.
"Do you think maybe you could let us in this time?" Watson shouted. "Céline and I are still down here!" After a few more minutes of yelling, Céline laughed.
"Give it a rest." She laughed. Watson frowned. What Céline and Watson didn't know was that Sherlock was struggling with the attacker that had snuck into the apartment to kill Soo Lin.
"No, I'm Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone because no-one else can compete with my MASSIVE INTELLECT!" Watson shouted. A few seconds later Sherlock emerged from the apartment. He stumbled around, his voice raspy.
"Somebody?" Watson asked. Sherlock nodded.
"Soo Lin Yao. We have to find her." Sherlock spoke. Céline handed him a note she had picked up off the ground.
"We can start here." She suggested. Sherlock looked at the note it was on an envelope for the National Antiquities Museum.
SOO LIN
Please ring me and tell me you're OK
Andy