221B Eiric

Sherlock lead us into the living room and immediately stares at the pictures over the fireplace as he took his coat off.

"They'll be back in China by tomorrow." John said as he took his coat off, I went to the couch, laid down and curled up into the fetal position; lowly moaning in pain at the movement.

"No, they won't leave without what they came for. We need to find their hide-out; the rendezvous." Sherlock walks closer to the photos, staring at them intently. John also gazed at the pictures while Sarah hovered over to me, forgotten by the pair of them. "Are you alright, Eiric?" she whispered to me, I nodded my head once, not daring to speak and just watched the Boys from my spot. Sherlock runs his fingers over the painted brick wall.

"Somewhere in this message it must tell us." He and John fall silent. Sarah looks at them and then to me for a moment, then, finally, realizing that she was a surplus to the requirements.

"Well, I think perhaps I should leave you to it." She got up from her spot and started to walk backwards away from us a few steps. John turns around to her, "No, no, you don't have to go . . ." he looks to Sherlock and then to me, ". . . does she?" he turns back to Sarah, "You can stay."

"Yes, it would be better to study if you left now." Sherlock looks around pointedly at Sarah, while John throws a dark look at him before turning back to her.

"He's kidding. Please stay if you like." Sarah looked nervously towards Sherlock, who has already turned back to the photographs. She smiles awkwardly and tries what she thinks was a friendly approach. "Is it just me, or is anyone else starving?"

"Ooh, God." Sherlock and I sighed, closing our eyes in exasperation.

Shortly afterwards, John opens the fridge to find it almost empty apart from a couple of bottles, a can, and what might have be an eyeball lying on a shelf but I wasn't sure from this distance, 'Need to get the Boys some shopping.' Back in the living room, Sherlock has sat down at the dining table which is covered with photos, notes and drawings of various pictograms, but not before giving me an amused look at my demise, so being the proper Lady I am, I flipped him the bird which he chuckled at. As he rummages through them, Sarah stands nearby, looking at all the pictures stuck to the mirror.

"So this is what you do, you and John. You solve puzzles for a living." Sherlock tetchily not looking around, "Consulting Detective."

"Oh." Was all Sarah said. I huffed, finally able to sit up without being in pain, "I'm a Consulting Detective as well, for Scotland Yard but I mostly do Detective work for them, like their cold cases. Those are the most fun." I picked up a random book off the floor and flipped it open, missing Sherlock's and Sarah's shocked looks.

In the kitchen, John was searching through cupboards. He twists the lid off a jar of pickled onions, sniffs the contents and recoils at the smell, "Oh!" He puts the lid back on and continues his search though he's not going to find anything.

Sarah walked over to Sherlock and is looking over his shoulder, I could see him tense up. She points to the paper he's looking at. "What are these squiggles?" Sherlock looks up, his face set as if he's trying very hard not to kill her. 'Oh~ if looks could kill!'

"They're numbers. An ancient Chinese dialect." Still not looking around to her but to me, his eyes pleading for help. I shook my head at him and went back to my book, 'That's for the fake date.'

"Oh, right! Yeah, well, of course I should have known that!" I silently scoffed to myself at her answer. I looked over to John, who was still searching the kitchen, has at least manage to find a small bag of Wotsits and was emptying them into a bowl. Mrs. H comes to the door and speaks quietly, though to me it sounded as though she was right by me with my hearing. "Yoo-hoo!" John looks up and his face fills with grateful delight as she comes in carrying a tray covered with a tea towel. "I've done punch, and a bowl of nibbles." She whispered. She puts the tray on the table and takes off the tea towel to reveal a jug of punch with slices of fruit floating on top, four glasses, a bowl of crisps and another bowl, I think containing some dip.

"Mrs. Hudson, you're a saint!" John said softly

"If it was Monday, I'd have been to the supermarket!" Mrs. H whispered to him, I smiled softly into the book at the woman's kind heart.

"No; thank you! Thank you!"

Back in the living room, I think Sherlock is just about to commit murder as Sarah picks up the photograph of the brick wall which Dimmock had brought back sealed in an evidence bag. He glares at her in utter fury and turns his head away, his teeth bared. That was my queue to intervene before it got ugly. I put the book down already finished with it and went to stand behind Sherlock, placing my arms around his shoulders and plopped my chin on top of his head. I felt him relax a bit but not much.

"So these numbers – it's a cipher." She asked, oblivious to Sherlock rage.

"Exactly." Was the tight reply.

"And each pair of numbers is a word." Sherlock's head lifts up slowly, making me move until only my hands are on his shoulders. "How did you know that?" for the first time tonight, he turns and meets her eyes.

"Well, two words have already been translated, here." She puts the picture down on the desk and points. Sherlock takes the photo from her and we both stared at it.

"John."

"Mmm?" he looks around from the kitchen table. Sherlock starts to stand up, forcing me to move out of the way, "John, look at this." He takes the photo out of the evidence bag as John comes out of the kitchen.

"Soo Lin at the museum – she started to translate the code for us. We didn't see it!" written in fine pen, a word had been written across each of the first two sets of symbols on the photograph. Sherlock reads them out, "Nine, Mill." John squinting at the photo, "Does that mean 'millions'?"

"Nine million quid. For what?" I asked thoughtfully as I watch Sherlock turn going to the spot he dumped his coat and scarf. "We need to know the end of this sentence." Sherlock said to us.

"Where are you going?" I asked him as he put his coat on, "To the museum; to the restoration room." He grimaces in exasperation at himself. "Oh, we must have been staring right at it!"

"At-at what?" John asked sounding confused.

"The book, John. The book – the key to cracking the cipher!" He brandishes the photo at John. "Soo Lin used it to do this! Whilst we were running around the gallery, she started to translate the code. It must be on her desk." I frowned at that, remembering Soo Lin and I hiding the whole time, I turned around to tell Sherlock to find he was gone, hurrying out the door.

TPSH

Outside on Baker Street Sherlock pov

Out on Baker Street, a man and woman are walking along the road. Obviously tourists, they are consulting the London A-Z and looking around. I burst out of the door of 221B, running towards the curb to hail a passing black cab.

"Taxi!" as I sweep past the tourists, I brushed past hard enough to break the man's hold on the book, which falls to the ground. The man yells at me indignantly in German.

"Hey, du! Siehst du nicht wo du hingehst?*" I turn back and pick up the book, handing it back to the man. "Entschuldigen Sie, bitte.*"

"Ja, danke!*" the man said snarkily, snatching the book back, he turns away, putting his arm around his wife and still bitching. "Und dann sagen die, dass die Engländer höflich sind!*"

I turn and raise my arm to the cab again but it has already driven past. I grunt in exasperation and walk down the road, looking over my shoulder to check traffic coming from behind me. After a few yards, I stop and turn back again, grunting angrily a second time as no cabs magically materialize for me. Looking up and down the road, I sees a Chinese couple, possibly father and daughter, standing at the corner over the road and consulting an A-Z as they too try to work out their route. I eyes narrow, and I flash back in my mind to walking across Lukis' living room and looking at a pile of books and papers on a table. The London A-Z was the top book on the pile. I flashed back further into the past and remembers seeing a pile of books in Van Coon's living room. The third book down on the pile was the London A-Z. Then I remember turning around from the crates in my own living room and staring at my bookcase. "A book that everybody would own." My memories move on to me smiling at Soo Lin after I handed her the teapot in the restoration room. On the table was a London A-Z.

Coming back to the present, my mouth opens in startled realization and I break into a run, racing back towards the German couple.

"Please, wait! Bitte!*" I shouted. The tourists turn back and frown in confusion as I hurry towards them.

"Was wollt er? Was will er?*" I run up to them and snatch the A-Z from the man's hands and turns away, looking down at the book.

"Hey, du! Was macht du?*" I turned back to him momentarily, "Minute!*"

"Gib mir doch mein Buch zurück!*" Ignoring him, I turn my back on the couple again and open the book. Waving his hand in exasperation at the crazy Englander, the man puts his arm around his wife and they walk away.

TPSH

221B John pov

Sarah and I have relocated to the kitchen. I'm sitting at the side table and Sarah is standing nearby. Eiric had gone back to laying on the couch, reading another book.

"I mean, well, a quiet night in's just-just what the doctor ordered." I could hear Eiric's quiet scoff as Sarah finished talking. I laughed softly. "Er, I mean, I'd love to go out of an evening and wrestle a few Chinese gangsters, you know, generally, but a girl can get too much." Eiric snorted at this, I was about to say something to her, when I remember what she told me and Sherlock. She was use to these kind of things happening to her. I nodded in agreement with Sarah, "No, okay." We smiled at each other, then she looks away, laughing in embarrassment.

"Hmm. Um, shall we get a takeaway?"

"Yeah!" I nod and get up to find a menu. I look out into the living room about to ask Eiric if she wanted anything, "The usual, John. Thank you." She look over to me with a half-hearted smile, I nod, returning one as well.

TPSH

On the street Sherlock pov

On the street, I'm flicking through the pages of the A-Z.

"Page fifteen, entry one. Page fifteen, entry one . . ." I turned to the correct page and looks at the first entry on that index page. It reads "Deadmans Lane NW9". I lift my head. "Dead man. You were threatening to kill them." I flash back to the message sprayed across Sir William's office, across the library shelf and the statue in the library. "It's the first cipher." I take the photograph of the message sprayed on the brick wall out of my coat pocket and unfold it. With the first two words already translated, I look at the third pair of symbols and then start flicking to the correct page in the book. "Thirty-seven, nine; thirty-seven, nine. . ." The appropriate entry on that page reads "Fore St EC2". I get out a pen and write "FOR" over the relevant symbols on the photo. "Nine mill . . . for . . ."

TPSH

221B Eiric pov

In the kitchen, Sarah has sat down on the seat that John vacated and is taking her jacket off. John has picked up the jug of punch and is filling the glasses. Someone knocks on the front door downstairs. I sat up at lightning speed and frowned, the delivery takes longer than that.

"Ooh, blimey, that was quick. I'll just pop down." He hands her one of the glasses as he walks towards the kitchen door. "Do you want me to lay the table?"John looks round at the kitchen table which is covered with Sherlock's paperwork and experiments. 'I wouldn't touch that if you want to live another day.'

"Um, eat off trays?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah!" I rolled my eyes at them. I waited till John was gone and got up and walked over to Sarah. I got right behind her and silently stupefy her. I, then, dragged her into Sherlock's room, laying her on the bed, and shutting and locking the door behind me.

TPSH

On the street Sherlock pov

I'm still translating the symbols. "Sixty, Thirty-five." On the relevant page, the appropriate entry reads "Jade Cl. E16". "Jade." I write on the photograph as I say the word again. "Jade."

TPSH

221B John pov

I open the front door and smile at the man standing on the doorstep, who is wearing a jacket with the hood pulled up. "Sorry to keep you." I start rummaging in my trouser pocket, "How much d'you want?"

"Do you have it?" I look around blankly, "What?"

"Do you have the treasure?"

"I don't understand." The man clonks me around the left side of my head with a pistol. I fall to the floor.

TPSH

On the street Sherlock pov

I turn to the page for the final word. Finding the correct entry, I write "TRAMWAY" onto the photograph and then read the whole message aloud. "Nine mill for Jade pin Dragon den Black. . ." I raised my head and stare ahead of myself, ". . . Tramway."

TPSH

In the kitchen of the flat there's no sign of Sarah or Eiric. The overhead suspended neon light is swaying gently back and forth. Two trays are on the table, each containing a clean plate, cutlery and a glass of punch. A book lays open, face down, on the couch. Downstairs, the front door slams and Sherlock's voice can be heard.

TPSH

221B Sherlock pov

"Eiric! John! I've got it!" I run in through the kitchen door, see nobody there and run into the living room, brandishing the A-Z. "The cipher! The book! It's the London A to Z that they're using . . ." I trail off before I can finish the last word, staring in shock as I see that yellow paint has been sprayed across the living room windows. On the left-hand window is the sort-of upside down eight with an almost horizontal line across it. On the right-hand window is the single almost horizontal slash. Together they spell out "DEAD MAN". There is no sign of Eiric, John, or Sarah. I stare at the paint in horror.

TPSH

Tramway Eiric pov

I watched as John regains consciousness sitting on a chair beside me, somewhere dark. A fire is burning in a dustbin behind us. He slowly raises his head. I notice there is a bleeding cut on his left temple. As he grimaces in pain, the voice of the Opera Singer comes out of the dim tunnel in front of us.

"A book is like a magic garden carried in your pocket." I looked quizzly at her, 'That made no sense.' Wincing, John turns his head to the left and to see me sitting on another chair with a gag in my mouth. I look around to him, calm. Ahead of us is the Chinese woman who he saw photographing him and who was watching us on Hungerford Bridge. Despite the darkness she is still wearing her dark sunglasses. She walks towards him and I now see that we are in an abandoned tunnel. There are two Chinese men standing behind the approaching woman, and a couple of other fires are burning to illuminate the area. A few feet ahead of where John and I are tied to our chairs by our hands and feet is a large object covered with cloth. The woman raises her sunglasses to the top of her head and looks down at John.

"Chinese proverb, Mr. Holmes." John and I look at her, startled.

"I . . . I'm not Sherlock Holmes." I looked at John out the corner of my eye, watching him.

"Forgive me if I do not take your word for it." She smiled humorlessly at him. She reaches down and pulls his jacket open, rummaging in the inside pockets. "Ow. Ow." She takes out his wallet, opens it and takes something out of it.

"Debit card, name of S. Holmes." I looked to John confused. "Yes; that's not actually mine. He lent that to me." I nodded then, that making more sense. She looked into the wallet again. "A cheque for five thousand pounds made out in the name of Mr. Sherlock Holmes." I let my head drop, 'We're doomed.'

"Yeah, he gave me that to look after." The woman found something else in the wallet, "Tickets from the theatre, collected by you, name of Holmes." I groan to myself 'Note to self: Kill Sherlock after this.'

"Yes, okay. . . I realize what this looks like, but I'm not him."

"We heard it from your own mouth." I lifted my head up remember that day. "I am Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone. . ." John stares ahead of himself in disbelief.

"Did I really say that?" he chuckles weakly, then lowers his head in pain. "I s'ppose there's no use me trying to persuade you I was doing an impression." Before he can finish the sentence, the woman raises a small pistol and points it at his head. John cringes away from it, blowing out a panicked breath. I start pulling at my restraints, trying to help John. The woman grins. 'Bitch! How dare you threaten one of my Boys!'

"I am Shan." John and I stare up at her. "You're . . . you're Shan."

"Three times we tried to kill you and your companions, Mr. Holmes. What does it tell you when an assassin cannot shoot straight?" She lifts her other hand and cocks the pistol. John cringes back, turning his head away and whispering, "Don't, don't," as he struggles against his bonds. I started pulling harder at the rope. Shan looks down at him and her expression becomes ominous. John breathes out heavily as her finger tightens on the trigger. John stares into the barrel of the gun, his face full of terror as she pulls the trigger all the way. The gun clicks. John grunts in shock, and Shan smiles smugly. I glared at the bitch for that dirty trick.

"It tells you that they're not really trying." John breathes heavily, trying to get control of himself. I looked back up to the ceiling, 'Sherlock, where are you?'

TPSH

221B Sherlock pov

I hurry over to the bookcase.

"Tramway." As if I had lost control of my usual razor-sharp brain in my fear for my friend and the woman I've come to deeply care for, I stare at the books on the shelf for a few moments as I try to find what I want, faintly, under my breath, "Oh, Christ." Finally I find and pull out a folding map of London. Turning back to the dining table, I unfold the map and spread it out, running my finger over it until I stab it down. "There." I turn and head out the door.

TPSH

Tramway Tunnel Eiric pov

Shan slides a clip into the pistol and then cocks it again before pointing it at John's head a second time. John cringes away from it. My glare intensifies by ten at the woman.

"Not blank bullets now." Was she stupid, the gun was empty the first time.

"Okay." John said breathily, making me start to worry.

"If we wanted to kill you, Mr. Holmes, we would have done it by now. We just wanted to make you inquisitive." She looks at John sternly. "Do you have it?"

"Do I have what?"

"The treasure."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She turned away, "I would prefer to make certain."She looks at her men, one of whom now pulls the cover off the large object to reveal the crossbow which was used at the circus. An arrow is already loaded in it. John and I stare at it and we both sigh deeply. Shan turns back to him. "Everything in the West has its price; and the price for her life. . ." John turns and stares at me. ". . . information." The two men walk over and pick up my chair. I started to yell out curses repeatedly through my gag as they carry me toward the crossbow.

In anguished, under his breath I could hear John say, "Sorry, I'm sorry." The men set the chair down on the other side of the crossbow, putting me facing the arrow tip and directly in line with it. I stare at it, and stopped tugging at the ropes tying me to the chair. Shan glares down at John. "Where's the hairpin?"

"What?" John was tugging at his own bonds in spite of the pistol aimed at him. "The Empress pin valued at nine million sterling. We already had a buyer in the West; and then one of our people was greedy. He took it, brought it back to London and you, Mr. Holmes, have been searching."

"Please. Please, listen to me. I'm not. . . I'm not Sherlock Holmes. You have to believe me. I haven't found whatever it is you're looking for."

"I need a volunteer from the audience!" Shan said loudly.

"No, please. Please." John was getting desperate now.

"Ah, thank you, lady. Yes, you'll do very nicely." She said walking towards me.I started swearing at her again, through my gag, tugging at my ropes. Shan smiles, takes out a knife and reaches up to the sandbag suspended over a pulley hanging from the ceiling. She stabs the knife into the bag and sand begins to pour out. I continue to curse, as John sighs out an appalled breath and stares up at the bag in horror.

TPSH

Sherlock is in the back of a taxi, looking around anxiously as the cab progresses through the streets.

TPSH

Shan smiles and looks around at her audience. "Ladies and gentlemen. From the distant moonlit shores of NW1, we present for your pleasure Sherlock Holmes' pretty companion in a death-defying act." I stopped all movement and sound, just staring at the machine.

"Please!" Shan walks over to me and places a black origami lotus flower on my lap. "You've seen the act before. How dull for you. You know how it ends."

"I'm not Sherlock Holmes!" John said frantically at her.

"I don't believe you."

"You should, you know." I let out the breath I was holding in a relieved sigh, 'Sherlock.' Shan spins around as a familiar silhouette appears at the far end of the tunnel. "Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him." Shan raises her pistol, cocks it (again) and aims it towards him. He immediately dodges to the side of the tunnel, disappearing into the shadows. One of Shan's thugs starts to hurry towards the end of the tunnel. John sighs out a half-relieved, half-exasperated breath. "How would you describe me, John? Eiric? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?" I would have laughed if my life wasn't on the line right now.

"Late?" John said tetchily.

'Late.' I thought tetchily.

"That's a semi-automatic. If you fire it, the bullet will travel at over a thousand meters per second."

"Well?" Shan said still aiming her pistol towards the shadows.

"Well. . ." The thug has reached a large storage container standing at the side of the tunnel. Sherlock runs out from behind it and thwacks the man across the stomach with a metal pipe. The man grunts and collapses to the ground. Sherlock immediately ducks back into the shadows. ". . . the radius curvature of these walls is nearly four meters. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you." I could hear Sherlock burst out of the darkness and run to the nearby burning dustbin, kicking it over. John flinches at the loud crash and Shan's eyes widen as she realizes that it's now even more impossible to see that area of the tunnel. John peers into the darkness, trying to see how close his friend is. Sherlock reappears just behind me and squats down behind me, starting to untie my bonds. However, the other man – who turns out to be Liang, Soo Lin's brother – runs over to him and loops a long red scarf around his throat a couple of times. 'Sherlock!' Sherlock cries out and stands up, tugging at the part of the scarf around his neck as Liang pulls it tight. As they struggle, I look at them for a moment and then turn back to stare at the arrowhead pointed directly at me. I lift my gaze to the sandbag, which is just passing the counterbalanced weight on its way down towards the metal cup on the crossbow. As the men continue to struggle, John realizes that Sherlock isn't going to get free in time. He struggles to stand, which is almost impossible with his hands tied in front of him and attached tightly to the underside of the chair, and his ankles tied to the legs of the chair. Nevertheless he manages to stumble forward a couple of paces, half-carrying and half-dragging the chair with him, before he loses his balance and falls onto his side. Liang swings yet another loop of the scarf around Sherlock's neck. I gaze up at the descending metal ball as the men behind me continue to struggle and John thrashes on the floor. My eyes drop to the arrowhead again as the ball continues relentlessly downwards. My eyes start to fill with tears, my gaze locks onto my imminent death and all hope begins to fade from my expression. Flailing and groaning with the effort, John manages to squirm around on the floor and finally gets one foot free enough to kick it upwards and connect with a part of the crossbow. The crossbow shifts position, twisting slightly to the left just as the ball connects with the cup. I watch as the arrow is fired and soars across the tunnel, my eyes widen in horror as it buries itself in Liang's stomach. He grunts, then straightens up, his face full of shock. He groans breathily for a moment, then slowly topples to the floor. Gasping for breath, Sherlock stands up and looks around. Distant running footsteps can be heard – General Shan got away. He looks in the direction of the sound as if considering following, but my anguished muffled curses distract him and he unloops the red scarf from around his neck and then drops to his knees beside me. I looked at him as he started to help me.

"It's all right, Eiric." He said soothingly to me, I felt the tears start to fall down my cheeks shaking my head at him. On the floor, John groans as he struggles to get up onto his elbows. Sherlock unties my gag and takes it from my mouth.

"Sher. . . lock." My voice breaking with a new wave of tears.

"You're gonna be all right, Eiric. It's over now. It's over." His voice and eyes soft as he stroked his hands comfortingly down my arms. He bends down to untie the rope. I just cover my eyes as silent tears kept coming. I felt myself being pulled into a warm, comforting hug. I remove my hands and wrapped them around the person tightly, figuring out who it is, "Sherlock, I-I . . ." my tears had intensified to were my shoulders were violently shaking. "Shhh, Eiric. You're safe now. I'm here, I got you." I snuggled my face into his neck, feeling him tighten his hold. 'Don't let go, Sherlock.'

TPSH

Later, the police have arrived to clear up the mess. Dimmock is waiting beside a police car just outside the tunnel as John puts his arm around my shoulders and walks me away. Sherlock is just behind us and stops to talk to the inspector.

"We'll just slip off. No need to mention us in your report."

"Mr. Holmes. . ."

"I have high hopes for you, Inspector. A glittering career."

"I go where you point me."

"Exactly." Sherlock started walking away. Dimmock turns and watches him leave. He smiles ruefully. Sherlock catches up with us and takes me into his arms.

"Eiric?" I looked over to John, "Where's Sarah."

"In Sherlock's bedroom." I said with a triumph smirk. I looked up at Sherlock, "It was the closest place with the limited time I had. She just stun is all. John take her home and she be fine in the morning." They both nodded their heads and gave me a smile.

TPSH

221B Sherlock pov

In the kitchen, John is sitting at the table, Eiric sitting in the chair next to mine reading a book, drinking her tea, while I stand next to John and pour him a mug of tea from a teapot.

"Ta" John looks at the translated message, "So, Nine mill. . ." Pouring myself a mug of tea, "Million."

"Million, yes; Nine million for jade pin. Dragon den, black Tramway."

"An instruction to all their London operatives."

"Hmmm." Eiric hummed, I looked at her in concern. She was being a bit too quiet than normal.

"A message; what they were trying to reclaim."

"What, a jade pin?" I sighed, "Worth nine million pounds. Bring it to the tramway, their London hideout."

"Hang on: a hairpin worth nine million pounds?" this time it was Eiric who sighed, "Apparently, John."

"Why so much?" Eiric shrugged her shoulders, "Depends who owned it." She told him.

TPSH

Bank

John, Eiric and I were walking towards the entrance to the bank.

"Two operatives based in London. They travel over to Dalian to smuggle those vases. One of them helps himself to something: a little hairpin." Eiric moved closer to me, slipping her hand into mine.

"Worth nine million pounds."

"Eddie Van Coon was the thief. He stole the treasure when he was in China." Eiric stated.

"How d'you know it was Van Coon, not Lukis? Even the killer didn't know that." Eiric and I went through the revolving doors saying at the same time, "Because of the soap." We look around smugly at John, who stops and stares back at us blankly for a moment before following us into the bank.

Upstairs, Van Coon's P.A. Amanda is sitting at her desk. She squirts a bit of hand lotion from the pump-action bottle on the desk and rubs it into her hands. Her phone rings and she picks it up and answers it.

[Amanda.]

[He bought you a present.]

[Oh. Hello.]

[A little gift when he came back from china.]

[How do you know that?]

"You weren't just his P.A., were you?" I said from behind her.She turns in surprise as I walk around to the side of the desk, switching off my phone and putting it back into my pocket.

"Someone's been gossiping." She said as she switched off her own phone.

"No."

"Then I don't understand. Why . . .?"

"Scented hand soap in his apartment. Three hundred milliliters of it. Bottle almost finished."

"Sorry?" she said frowning in confusion.

"I don't think Eddie Van Coon was the type of chap to buy himself hand soap – not unless he had a lady coming over. And it's the same brand as that hand cream there on your desk." Amanda momentarily looks down awkwardly.

"Look, it wasn't serious between us. It was over in a flash. It couldn't last – he was my boss."

"What happened? Why did you end it?"

"I thought he didn't appreciate me. Took me for granted. Stood me up once too often – we'd plan to go away for the weekend and then he'd just leave; fly off to China at a moment's notice."

"And he brought you a present from abroad to say sorry." My gaze is focused on a small green jade hairpin in her hair. "Can I . . . just have a look as it?" I hold my hand out.

TPSH

In Sebastian's office, Seb is signing a cheque for £20,000. He looks up at John and Eiric who are standing on the other side of the desk.

"He really climbed up onto the balcony?" He puts the cheque into an envelope.

"Nail a plank across the window and all your problems are over." Looking peeved, Sebastian holds the envelope out to John. "Thanks."

TPSH

Outside, Amanda is holding her hair in place with one hand while she takes out the pin with the other. "Said he bought it in a street market." She puts the pin into my outstretched hand.

"Oh, I don't think that's true. I think he pinched it."

"Yeah, that's Eddie." She said chuckling ruefully.

"Didn't know its value; just thought it would suit you."

"Oh? What's it worth?" I smirked. "Nine . . . million . . . pounds." I said slowly.

Amanda's face fills with shock. "Oh my God!" She stumbles to her feet and staggers backwards as Sherlock grins. "Oh my G..."

"Nine-million!" She said in a high pitch voice, hysterical.

In Sebastian's office, John and Eiric turn their head at the sound of her voice, then turns back and nods to Sebastian before leaving the room.

TPSH

I was wearing a dressing gown over my shirt and trousers, sitting at the dining table while John sits opposite me and Eiric right by me. I was looking at the front page of the Sunday Express, where the headline reads, "Who wants to be a million-hair". I fold the paper in half, put it down and pick up another newspaper.

"Over a thousand years old and it's sitting on her bedside table every night." John said.

"He didn't know its value; didn't know why they were chasing him." Eiric told him.

"Hmm. Should've just got her a lucky cat." Eiric let out a soft giggle and I smiled at him briefly, then looked away.

"Hmm." My gaze becomes distant. John looks at Eiric and I closely.

"You mind, don't you?" I looked at him, "What?"

"That she escaped – General Shan. It's not enough that we got her two henchmen." Eiric looked down at her lap, she was bothered that Shan escaped.

"It must be a vast network, John; thousands of operatives. The three of us, we barely scratched the surface."

"You cracked the code, though, Sherlock; and maybe Dimmock can track down all of them now that he knows it."

"No. No. He cracked this code; all the smugglers have to do is pick up another book." Eiric spoke up looking up at John before turning her green gaze to me.

"That was the worst fake date I've ever been on, Sherlock." I looked at her startled, "I want a refund. Is that dinner date still being offered?" I smiled at her.

"Yes, it is. How does Anglo's at 8, sound?" I asked.

"Perfect." She leaned over and pressed a light kiss to my lips. She got up and left our flat going to hers.

I open my newspaper and lift it, to hide my burning cheeks, began to read. John's eyes drift over to the window, smirking, and he frowns and looks closely as a young man in a hooded jacket and wearing a cap walks over to a tall black box on the other side of the road which dispenses parking permits. Putting a bag on the ground, the young man looks around in all directions to make sure he's not being watched, then lifts a spray can in his right hand and sprays his tag on the back of the box. John watches as the 'artist' finishes the tag, picks up his bag and hurries away. As I, oblivious to this, continues to read my paper, John looks thoughtful, and a police car sirens its way down the road.

TPSH

In a room somewhere, Shan is sitting at a desk and talking to someone over a computer. Her live image is being transmitted to the other person but the space on the screen which should be showing the face of whoever she's talking to is marked "No image available." There is also a text box on the screen which shows that the person to whom she's talking is indicated simply as"DMJM". Shan sounds very humble as she speaks.

"Without you – without your assistance – we would not have found passage into London. You have my thanks."

DMJM: GRATITUDE IS MEANINGLESS
DMJM: IT IS ONLY THE EXPECTATION OF FURTHER FAVOURS

"We did not anticipate ... we did not know this man would come – this Sherlock Holmes." Her face fills with concern. "And now your safety is compromised."

DMJM: THEY CANNOT TRACE THIS BACK TO US

"I will not reveal your identity."

DMJM: WE ARE CERTAIN.

Unseen by Shan, the red light of a rifle's laser sight appears in the center of her forehead. A single gunshot rings out as a bullet smashes through the window opposite en route to its target.

Author Note: Hey everyone! So the Blind Banker is over! Now on to The Great Game! I've decide that two episodes equal to one year, so I'll be doing one shots for the holidays and whatever crosses my mind, like Sherlock's and Eiric's real first date! That is going to be so much fun to figure out what to write. Maybe you guys have some ideas for it? I would love to hear if you do. I hope you guys I enjoy this chapter! Ta for now!

Hey, du! Siehst du nicht wo du hingehst? - Hey, you! Why don't you look where you're going?

Entschuldigen Sie, bitte. - Forgive me, please.

Ja, danke! - Yeah, thanks!

Und dann sagen die, dass die Engländer höflich sind! - And they say the English are polite!

Bitte! – Please!

Was wollt er? Was will er? - What does he want?

Hey, du! Was macht du? - Hey, you! What are you doing?

Minute! - Wait a minute!

Gib mir doch mein Buch zurück! - Give me my book back!