A cab ride later, they were walking towards a large, glass building. With Sherlock in the lead, they walked through the rotating glass doors and up an escalator. They stood in front of a secretary.

"Sherlock Holmes." He said.

The secretary called for her boss, and they were led to his offices. A man walked in a few minutes later. To Etheldrea, he was slightly familiar.

"Sherlock Holmes." He said.

"Sebastian." Sherlock greeted, shaking his hand.

"Hiya buddy. How long- eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?"

"You remember my daughter, Etheldrea."

"Hello Mr. Wilkes." She said, shaking his hand.

"You were just a little girl last time I saw you, look how you've grown. Good to see you."

"This is my friend, John Watson." Sherlock said.

"Friend?"

"Colleague." John corrected.

"Right, well. Grab a pew. Do you need anything? Coffee? Water?"

"No thank you." They all muttered.

Etheldrea took a seat in-between her father and John.

"So, you're doing well. You've been abroad a lot." Sherlock said to Sebastian,

"Well, so?"

"Flying all the way around the world twice in a month."

Sebastian scoffed and told John, "Right, you're doing that thing again. We were at uni together, and this guy here had a trick he used to do.

"It's not a trick." Sherlock muttered.

"He could look at you and tell you your whole life story."

"Yes, I've seen him do it."

"Put the wind up everybody, we hated it. We'd come down to breakfast in the formal hall and this freak would know you'd been shagging the previous night."

Etheldrea prepared to say something, but Sherlock grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She took a breath and tried to relax. She didn't remember much about Sebastian, but she did he remember how much of an ass he was.

"I simply observe." Sherlock said.

"Go on, enlighten me. Two trips a month, flying all the way around the world, you're quite right. How could you tell? Are you going to tell me there's a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan? Is it the mud on my shoes?"

"No, I was just chatting with your secretary outside."

Both John and Etheldrea looked confused, as Sherlock hadn't talked with anyone while they were waiting.

Sebastian laughed, and clapped his hands, "I'm glad you could make it over. We've had a break-in."

"Where?"

"If you'll follow me, I'll show you."

They all stood and followed Sebastian to an unused office.

"Sir William's office- the bank's former chairman. The room's been left here like a sort of memorial. Someone broke in late last night."

"What did they steal?" John asked.

"Nothing. Just left a little message."

Wilkes opened the door and they saw yellow spray painted symbols on the wall. One next to a portrait, and another line across the portraits eyes. Etheldrea pulled out a small notebook and pen that she always kept in her coat, and marked down the symbols.

Sebastian brought them to his office once more and showed them the security footage of the break-in. The first showed nothing out of the ordinary, just a clean room and no marks. Then a minute later, the yellow symbols were there.

"So, someone came up here in the middle of the night, splashed paint around and left within a minute."

"How many ways into that office?"

"Well, that's where this gets really interesting." Sebastian mused while leading them to the front desks, "Every door that opens in this bank, it gets locked right here. Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet."

"That door didn't open last night?"

"There's a hole in our security. Find it and we'll pay you- five figures." He pulled out a check, "This is an advance. Tell me how he got in. There's a bigger one on its way."

"I don't need an incentive, Sebastian." And then he walked past and towards offices.

Etheldrea inwardly groaned and followed him. He had pulled out his phone and was starting to take pictures of the symbols.

"Dad, why didn't-"

"We're on a case, this can wait."

"Right."

Sherlock put his phone away and then walked towards the window. He pulled the blind, opened the glass, and then stepped out on the ledge. Etheldrea grasped the back of his coat.

"I'm not going to fall, Etheldrea." He muttered, looking around.

"You say that now. You won't be saying anything when you're a bloody mess on the ground."

Sherlock stepped back into the room, closed the window, and walked into the cubicles. He stood in the back and sashayed around the pillars, ducking here and there. Etheldrea stood next to John, watching with a bemused look on her face. Finally, he stopped in one of the workers offices, pulling his nametag from a slot. Sherlock walked out, and past uttering for John and Etheldrea to follow him.

"Two trips around the world this month. You didn't ask his secretary, you said that just to irritate him." John said while Sherlock smiled, "How did you know?"

"His watch." Etheldrea said.

"His watch?"

Sherlock answered, "The time was right, but the date was wrong. It said two days ago. He crossed the date line twice and didn't alter it."

"Within a month? How did you get that?"

"New Breitling. Only came out this February."

"Ok. So do you think we should sniff around here for a bit longer?"

"Got everything I need to know already, thanks. That graffiti was a message. Someone on the bank, working on the trading floors. We find the intended recipient and . . ."

"They'll lead us to the person who sent it?"

"Obvious."

"So I don't need to go researching any mysterious symbols?" Etheldrea asked.

"Not yet."

John asked, "Well, there's three hundred people up there, who was it meant for?"

"Pillars."

"What?"

"Pillars and the screens. Both very few places you could see that graffiti from. That narrows the field considerably. And, of course, the message was left at eleven thirty-four last night. That tells us a lot."

"Does it?"

Etheldrea shrugged, "Traders work all hours. The man or woman working around midnight would have seen the message. Someone working with Hong Cong, right dad?"

"Precisely. Not many Van Coons in the phone book." Sherlock said, holding up the name plate.

He called for a taxi, and the three piled in. Sherlock gave the address and after a while, they found themselves in front of a buzzer. Sherlock pressed it, but received no answer.

Etheldrea hung back and checked her phone. As they had left the taxi, her phone had vibrated. It was a message from Ethan Burke. He was the manager form the store where she brought Abigail's birthday present. She had ordered it last week, and it was ready for pick up.

She looked up just as her father was talking sweetly to a woman through the speaker.

". . . I've just locked my keys in my flat."

"Do you want me to buzz you in?"

"Yeah. And can I use you balcony?"

"What?"

Etheldrea shook her head, "Well, good luck on your adventure. I'll meet you at Baker Street tonight."

"Where are you going?" John asked.

"Abigail's gift came in, and the shop closes in a couple hours."

Etheldrea said goodbye, and then hailed a cab. A while later she walked through the shop's doors and towards the back. At a counter, a young man with purple and teal hair sat flipping through a clothing magazine. As she approached, he looked up and smiled.

"Miss Holmes." he greeted.

"Mr. Burke. "

"The last time I saw you, you ordered a . . . leather bound journal and a fountain pen engraved with M.H. Far more formal then this. What's the occasion?"

"A friend's birthday."

"Whoa, hold up, you have a friend?"

"Yes, the journal?"

He rolled his eyes and reached below the counter, pulling out a brown gift bag, and pushed it towards her.

"There you go, gift wrapped and all. That'll be twenty quid."

She checked it over, making sure there wasn't and damage, and then paid and went to leave, but Ethan stopped her, "My brother says he can't wait to see you again."

"Tell Raz that I'm still sixteen, and even if I wasn't, he wouldn't have a chance in hell."

"Hey now, nineteen isn't that much of a jump."

"Too far for me."

She turned and walked out of the store, and then turned right. No doubt the men were still investigating Van Coon, she might as well take a walk. Down a few streets was Chinatown, and she had a lot of time. As she walked, a thought grew in her head. She could try to find Soo Lin Yao.

Hurrying her pace, she arrived at the busy section of London and wove in-between crowds of people. She stopped by a vendor and asked about her former mentor, but the man didn't know anyone by the name. The next vender didn't know either.

After searching for nearly twenty minutes, she found a flower vendor who knew Soo Lin Yao. He gave her directions, and before she left, she bought a small bouquet of blue and white delphiniums, carnations, and myrtle. She walked down the street and looked at the door next to a Lucky Cat Emporium. On the ground sat a new edition of the phone book in plastic packaging. On the side of the door was a paper name tag written in flowery script, Soo Lin Yao.

She buzzed the bell and waited for a few moments. Slowly, the door opened and Miss Yao looked through the crack. When she saw it was Etheldrea, she forced a smile and opened the door fully.

"Miss Holmes, I did not expect to see you here."

"I know, I should have given you some prior warning. It's just that, I heard what happened, and I wanted to give my condolences." She held out the bouquet.

Soo took the bouquet with a mod, "Thank you. I'm sorry I did not let you know, it's just been very hard."

"Don't be. I understand. If it was my dad, well . . ."

"Would you like to come in?"

"No, it's alright. I have to get home."

"Alright then. If I may ask, how did you find me?"

"I asked around. The man at the flower cart a few streets down pointed me here."

"I see. Have a good evening Miss Holmes."

"And the same to you Miss Yao."

Etheldrea turned and the door shut behind her. She walked away from Chinatown and down Dean St, towards the subway. It wouldn't take less than ten minutes to get there, but it had started to rain. She pulled her collar tight around her scarf and neck, and sped up her pace. When she reached the corner of the street, a black car resting there opened it's door.

Etheldrea rolled her eyes and got in. Across from her sat Anthea, or Andromeda, or what other name she called herself.

"You're texting my Uncle right?"

"Yes." She said, not even looking up.

"Tell him that I can the tube like any other normal citizen."