(A/N)
Hello my sweeties! I'm positing at nearly midnight my time. Check back tomorrow as I will be posting another chapter to celebrate the birthday of the 12th Doctor. Yes, Melody is a Whovian and tomorrow is DW day. I've got DW related snacks, tons of tea, Tardis blue everything, and so much DW stuff that I look like a Companion threw up on me.
Well, I had my eye appointment today and it isn't glaucoma which is good news but bad news is, we still don't know what it is. So, now I go for an MRI which is the next step to make sure it isn't a legion, tumor, or something not working right in my brain causing this. Still waiting for people to get off their arses and start working on getting me my contacts and new reading glasses which hopefully should make classes at Uni easier for me. My first week has been brilliant so far and I am staying positive.
Please all give a round of applause to the fabulous Mat and John my best mates from Bristol who make this story possible in more ways than you know. Mat has designed a t-shit just for me to cheer me up after today. Mat (aka Mr. Smith, inside joke as he looks just like Matt Smith) congratulations on the promotion and I wish you the best on your move to Cardiff. You and John had better find Torchwood for me. John, you'll make a bloody fantastic Gwen Cooper and good luck and stay safe on your transfer to the Cardiff police. Mat do what we discussed or I will fly over and kick your arse. John, everyone should love you! John has provided me with the correct vows for John and Mary's wedding, thank you, we'll call him the Vicar, for giving them over to John for me. I just finished the wedding scene in The Sign of Three! You know me, adding in stuff that was never in the episode. I bet you're curious now!
Kimmy, Owl, I love you two fantastic ladies. Thanks for supporting me. Dobry wieczór Kimmy.
And to all of my followers a large thank you. You have no idea how much this story has kept me going the last few months after finding out everything with my vision and learning how to deal with it. You are all amazing people and I believe it to be a great honor that you come back for every chapter that I post. I am honestly humbled by you all. For my fans in the UK, I will be taking my first visit to your beautiful London next summer. Maybe I can arrange to meet some of you wonderful people. I love getting to know you all. This isn't just me, it's a team effort, it's a group, it's the Baker Street Irregulars. We're all fans of Sherlock Holmes and I find it incredible that we all come together over something like this. Writing and reading are starting to become a lost art and one we should keep alive. Words are powerful.
You all have really amazed me, honestly. I went from thinking my writing meant nothing to realizing that it's a lot better than even I ever thought it could be. This has,as it always has been from the start, a story for each and every one of you. *Bows* Lexi is my alter ego and the person I strive to be. Thank you all for showing me that through her I can be more than I am. And now for the next chapter in the Leviathan. Don't forget to check back later for the conclusion of the Leviathan. One more chapter on Tuesday before we begin the Great Game next Saturday. Are you ready to meet the consulting criminal? -Melody aka. The Professor, Lord President of the High Council of the Time Lords. Thanks Mat for giving me my Time Lady name. Now stop telling me I'm smarter than you. Gallifrey Stands! Fantastic! Allons-y! Geronimo! Virtual Jelly Babies, Bananas, Jammie Dodgers, and Fish fingers N' Custard for you all!
Chapter Forty One- Along For The Ride
John's POV
John woke up to a slight headache and a dry throat. He groaned as he sat up in bed, still in the clothes he was wearing the day before. He suddenly remembered going to the pub with Lexi and drinking way too much whiskey, not that the Irish girl was affected much by it. John groaned before pulling himself out of bed and shuffling down the stairs. He found Sherlock in his armchair, as if he hadn't moved at all since last night, adopting his prayer pose. Lexi popped her head out of the kitchen as John went and sat heavily down in his armchair, rubbing his right temple slightly before Lexi popped out of the kitchen with a tray.
"Good morning. Coffee, yogurt, and assorted fruits," Lexi said as she place the tray in front of John. She grinned before taking a seat on the arm of Sherlock's chair, looking way too chipper this morning. No one should be that happy in the morning.
"Thanks," John told her, sighing tiredly as he picked up his coffee and took a sip of it, hoping the caffeine might help his headache. Why had he agreed to go drinking with her? How was it she could drink more than him and be fine? She was tinier than he was!
"Seven minutes for you to eat and drink, to shower and get dressed, should get us to the property clerk's office just as it opens," Sherlock said, opening his eyes and staring at John as Lexi played with the arm of her shirt which John noticed was one of Sherlock's button ups which she wore with leggings. What was with her stealing their clothes too?
"Why are we going to the property clerk's office?" John asked them as he got up and stretched, putting his tray down on the coffee table, still drinking his coffee.
"That's where they keep Exhibit C. Exhibit C from Carter Averill's trial. I want to have a look at it. The jury looked at it three separate times while they were deliberating," Sherlock told him as Lexi looked back at Sherlock. The consulting detective looked up at her and John could see that they were doing their weird eye thing again.
"Well, isn't that what the jury's supposed to do, look at the exhibits?' John asked them as Lexi and Sherlock both stood up in unison. Sherlock and Lexi shared a look again and John noticed Lexi raising her eyebrow before she turned back to John.
"This is a scrap of paper from the trash bag that the thieves' landlord gave to the police," Lexi explained to John, sharing what she and Sherlock had found. "It's a simple, handwritten note, a scrawled coffee order with the names of the criminals written next to the drinks that they wanted. Apparently, they made a Starbucks run while they were planning the heist. I would have too in all honesty," Lexi told John and he looked back at her in exasperation as Sherlock and Lexi pulled on their coats and Sherlock helped Lexi into her scarf.
"So? Thieves drink coffee, too," John told Lexi and she sighed rolling her eyes before she reached up and smoothed down the collar of Sherlock's jacket before tucking his scarf inside of it as he pulled on his gloves.
"Not my point," Lexi told him as Sherlock turned back to the army doctor, both of the detectives waiting by the door.
"The prosecution used it to prove that the four men were working together. After that's done, it's hardly a trove of information, is it? Why would the jury need to look at a coffee order three times?" Sherlock asked John and the army doctor sighed. Yeah, alright it seemed a bit odd but it was just a coffee order. What could be so important about that?
"Fine, I'll go get my coat," John told them and Sherlock nodded before he took off down the stairs. John trudged back to his room and put his shoes back on and pulled his coat on, never mind changing his clothes. He walked back down to the living room where Lexi was waiting for him by the door and the two of them headed down stairs and outside where Sherlock was already waiting in the back of a cab. John shook his head as Lexi slid into the back next to Sherlock. This was going to be interesting.
Lexi's POV
We arrived at the property clerk's office and due to my call to Gregson, the evidence was already waiting for us. It paid to have a friend at Scotland Yard. After I had helped John to bed I had joined Sherlock in the living room and he had told me everything he learnt so far from reading the court transcripts. He had discovered that jury had requested to see Exhibit C, a simple piece of paper with only a hand written coffee order on it. I had been used to prove that the four men were working together, but asking to see it again and again was a bit odd. Therefore, we decided to see it for ourselves and find out what could be so important about a coffee order. We took our evidence into one of the examining rooms and I pulled the slip of paper out of its bag and looked it over.
"That looks like a coffee order," John sighed as I looked over the scrap of paper, Sherlock looking over my shoulder. "Three of them ordered soy. I'm surprised they were so health-conscious," John said sarcastically as I flipped the piece of paper over, inspecting the back of it. On the back of it there was just a bunch of random numbers and letters. "That looks like something your printer spits out when it's trying to test to see if it works," John told me as I held up the receipt and showed him what did in fact look like a bunch of computer nonsense. I grinned at him, having recognized it immediately.
"It looks like sheer nonsense because that's what it is supposed to look like. It's a programming language called "Malbolge. It was designed to be impenetrable. The language's creator named it after the eighth circle of hell in Dante's Inferno. Now, there are few people in the world who can even recognize Malbolge as anything other than gibberish. Fewer still who can write software using it. I know what it looks like, but I don't know how to translate it. I learned about the language from a consultant I used in America when I was working a case. She was the one of the two people who taught me how to hack computers. She should be able to get us a translation soon as I've sent it off to her. The important thing is it's a message and it was hidden in plain sight throughout the trial," I told John and Sherlock, proud that I had recognized it. My consultant in America had taught me as much as she could in my limited time over there. I could recognize the Malbolge, I just couldn't read it myself. If I was lucky she would be able to get me a translation back by the end of the day but I knew she might be busy with her own work for the FBI and then the time difference of five hours didn't help either. It would be around four o'clock in the morning in Quantico so I would have to wait until she came in to work before I heard back from her.
"Do you think someone from the jury recognized it?" John asked me and I nodded as I looked back to Sherlock, sharing a long look with him. That was exactly what I thought, what we thought. If I could recognize the computer code, so could someone else. Few people knew it but the odds were that someone did.
"Why else would they ask to see a coffee order again and again? " I asked John as Sherlock started looking through the files of every one of the jurors quickly, interested only in what their occupations were listed as.
"Here you are. Justin Guthrie," Sherlock said as he handed me over the proper file and pointed to the listed occupation. "Unemployed at the time of the trial, but listed his previous occupation as "software engineer. Shall we see if he's familiar with Malbolge?" Sherlock asked me and I nodded. It was a good start and a software engineer was our best bet.
"So what do we do if this guy Guthrie says he doesn't know what you're talking about?" John asked us as Sherlock and I made to leave, pulling our coats back on, Sherlock helping me into mine.
"Well, then we can start by seeing if he's got any diamonds lying around," Sherlock told him with a smile before he walked out of the room. "Lexi," He called and I looked at John who gave me a withering look before I shrugged and ran to catch up with the consulting detective. We were closer to finding out who broke into the Leviathan and I had a plan to help John with his family troubles. So far the day was going well and it was barely even ten o'clock yet. Now all we had to do was find out how Guthrie was linked to the case and go from there. I slipped my hand into one of the consulting detective's before slipping my other hand into that of the army doctor's who had caught up with us. Both men had smiles on their faces as we walked out together but each for a completely different reason.
Now that we had a lead in the form of a certain Justin Guthrie we had something to finally go on that wasn't a snipe hunt. We also had to wait to hear back from my contact across the pond to figure out the meaning of the Malbolge. I knew she would come through for me. I hadn't consulted her in a while, but she said her computer was always open for business when it came to me. Therefore, due to the fact that we had to wait, I forced Sherlock and John to stop for breakfast first. More like forced Sherlock too, John was quite happy that we were stopping for a bit. John wasn't used to working a case for hours without stopping to eat or rest. It was a routine that had been easy for me to fall into again and Sherlock was already used to it. That was how I found myself an hour later drinking tea as I munched on a large stack of pancakes, John sitting across from me enjoying a full English breakfast. I managed to get Sherlock to eat a few bites of my breakfast as he nursed his own mug of tea beside me, not too happy that I was making him wait. I kept him occupied by having him deduce the other diners for me. I loved hearing his deductions as much as I loved making my own. While we sat waiting for breakfast I had contacted Gregson and got the address to the home of Guthrie. Lucky for us he lived close to the tube station so after breakfast the three of us took a walk over to the nearest tube station to us and rode the rails. As we walked out of the underground and headed down the street to Guthrie's flat my phone finally rang. I smiled as I looked down at the caller ID before I answered the phone, putting it on speaker phone as the three of us stopped.
"Isn't this spooky?" The girl on the other end of the phone asked me, her American accent quite prominent, and I shook my head. John and Sherlock gave me odd looks as I grinned.
"What is?" I asked her and I heard her come closer to the phone on her end.
"That right now you are thinking about me and out of the blue your phone rings," The girl told me as Sherlock raised an eyebrow at me. I ignored him as I laughed. I was more than used to her behaviour by now.
"Hey Baby Girl," I greeted my old friend and I heard her laugh on the other end.
"Penelope Garcia's house of how may I save your ass today. Are we talking PG or NC-17?" Garcia asked me and John looked at me in surprise. I shook my head. Penelope Garcia, my American contact who worked for the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit at Quantico as a Tech Specialist. Originally she was a hacker before she got picked up by the government and then she turned around and started working for the government.
"You're on speaker phone," I let her know and I could hear the eye roll in her voice.
"I do charge extra for groups you know," She reminded me and I nodded with a laugh as John started to go pink around the ears. Sherlock looked merely intrigued by the conversation we were having.
"Hey who's on the line Baby Girl?" I heard someone ask in the background and my grin grew wider.
"Our brilliant, sexy goddess from across the pond," Garcia told the asker and I snorted and rolled my eyes at Garcia's title for me. John was looking at me curiously now and I shrugged, not meeting Sherlock's eyes as he studied me closely.
"Put her on speaker," The man asked before I heard him clearly coming through my phone. "Hey sexy lady, you're on speaker, behave," The voice of Derek Morgan told me and I rolled my eyes again.
"I always behave, it's you I have to worry about," I told Derek and he laughed in response.
"Sure you do. I still remember a certain night that you took Garcia and Reid drinking," Morgan told me and I shrugged. That had been after work.
"Oh don't you wish you had been there to take advantage of me?" Garcia asked Morgan and John cleared his throat awkwardly as Sherlock's eyebrow raised higher into his hairline. I looked up at them and then back at my phone before shrugging. Yeah, they were a little….
"Not that I don't love this Garcia, but what do you have for me?" I asked her and I heard her groan.
"Ugh, you are no fun. Your Malboge was easy enough to translate and I am sending you a copy of the translation as we speak. Want to tell me what this is for because correct me if I am wrong but this doesn't sound like something a writer would need to know," Garcia asked me and it was my turn to groan.
"I'm taking cases again," I told Garcia and I heard her take in an over dramatic gasp of air.
"What? My sexy soul sister is working cases again and didn't think to call me?" Garcia asked me sounding scandalized. This conversation was starting to get awkward.
"I've been busy. I'm not working alone this time," I explained to her and then I realized that I had opened a whole can of worms for her.
"Momma is getting some!" Garcia said and I sputtered as John smirked at me, Sherlock looking rather amused as I blushed.
"Alright Baby Girl, lay off of her," Morgan said, saving me from Penelope. Thank God for her handler.
"Hey is that Lexi?" I heard someone say. I grinned in excitement.
"Hey Spence!" I said and I heard him come closer to the phone. Spencer Reid, a man that had become a good friend of mine. Spencer and I had worked closely together on the case I worked for the FBI.
"This is perfect actually. I was already thinking of calling you. Can I ask you a question?" Reid asked me as he sat closer to the phone.
"Sure, what do you need?" I asked Spencer as Sherlock looked at me curiously again. There was another emotion in his eyes I couldn't place.
"I need to know where this quote came from. Our Unsub left it on a note at the crime scene of our first victim but I can't place where I've heard it before. 'He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall'," Reid read out to me and I thought about it for a long moment before responding.
"Edgar Allan Poe's The Masque of the Red Death. 'And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.' Your Unsub might be using some kind of poison to kill his victims in a similar manner in order to recreate the story," I told Spencer and he mumbled something.
"How did you know the first victim was poisoned?" He asked me and I laughed.
"Good guess, besides, you know how I work," I told Reid and I heard him laugh.
"Hold on, you lied to me. You said you already knew where the quote was from," Garcia said and I shook my head. Reid was in for it now.
"It wasn't a lie," Reid told her quickly.
"Then what was it?" Garcia asked him.
"Second opinion," Reid told her and I laughed. Yeah, second opinion. Reid didn't often ask for one unless he really didn't know what he was doing.
"Your Lexi's bitch now," Garcia said and Reid stuttered, it was obviously a conversation they had had earlier.
"Alright, this has really been fun, but I have to get back to my case and I am sure you have to get back to yours. Thanks for the translation Garcia," I told the spunky blonde. "Say hi to the rest of the team for me," I added as it had been a long time since I had talked to them too.
"Will do baby girl, try to say safe," Morgan told me and I nodded at that.
"Thanks for the help," Reid told me before Garcia dominated the phone again.
"Call me soon. I want to know every sexy detail," Garcia told me and I sighed in exasperation.
"Maybe," I told her with a laugh before hanging up. I looked up at the boys who were eyeing me closely as I shuffled uncomfortably. "So um, yeah, that's Garcia," I told them awkwardly.
"Sexy goddess from across the pond? Care to explain?" John asked me with a smirk and I glared at him murderously. He couldn't just let it go.
"Shut it Watson," I warned him before I sighed heavily. "Back before I left I was contacted by Mycroft. The FBI wanted my help as a consultant on one of their cases because I had been recommended to them by another old friend of mine Joanie who could have translated the Malboge for me too, but I don't know what she's doing right now so it might not be a good time to contact her. Anyway, I agreed and I took the case. The case was of a serial killer who was mimicking Jack the Ripper. I wrote my Criminology Doctoral thesis on him so I was considered a bit of an expert and I had worked with Scotland Yard. I got to work with the BAU on the case. Garcia is their Tech Specialist. Morgan and Spencer are two of their special agents. Spencer and I became partners on the case. He has an eidetic memory like I do. He also was held hostage on one case and was made to take drugs. Only difference was I was an addict before and he became an addict after. I helped him get clean as I tried to help myself. Garcia was the one who taught me a good part of my hacking skills. I have Joanie to thank for the rest of that. Every so often I get a call from them if they need a second opinion. They were impressed with what I could teach them about deductions and they taught me how to profile," I explained as I opened the text Garcia had sent me of the translation. "That's it. Just like I thought. They attacked the random number generator," I told the boys excitedly as I showed them the translation which was an equation.
"That does not say, they attacked the random number generator," John told me and I sighed in exasperation and looked at Sherlock hopefully. The consulting detective was watching me with interest and he hadn't spoken since Garcia's call which could either be a good or a bad thing.
"Please tell me you understand it?" I asked Sherlock and he nodded as we started walking again.
"Obviously," He told me with a smirk and I grinned back at him before looking at John to explain to him.
"It's an algorithm, John. This is how the first team of thieves got into The Leviathan. The vault's software is designed to spit out ten random digits every two minutes. This makes it impossible to predict the access code at any given moment. The genius of the original plan is this algorithm. They hacked the software, fed the equation into it. It spits out escalating multiples of the number pi every two minutes. Pi is infinite, so if you take a ten-digit sample, the numbers still appear random, but if you know the algorithm, you can predict the code," I told John and he nodded in understanding.
"Even after you leave, it still looks like the software is functioning perfectly?" John asked us and Sherlock and I nodded. It was very clever of them. The code still looked random so the software looked like it was functioning properly, but they had still attacked the random number generator. Thus, no one could figure out how they had gotten into the Leviathan in the first place.
"Justin Guthrie must have translated the Malbolge, realized that he had the key for cracking The Leviathan, any Leviathan," Sherlock said and I looked up at him sharing a look. Guthrie figured out what we had. With this information I could even break into a Leviathan.
"So, a guy on the jury planned a $40-million heist?" John asked us sceptically and Sherlock huffed at him as he took one of my hands out of his coat pocket and offered it to me. I took his warm hand and grinned up at him. He looked down at me and raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"Well, he had help, obviously. But that's exactly what he did. When you've eliminated the impossible, John, whatever remains …," Sherlock said before John interrupted him.
"Yeah, you said that already," John told him shaking his head in exasperation as we made it to the front of the building Guthrie lived in. There was police tape across the door and a Scotland Yard detective was standing in front of it.
"Sargent, we need to get into the building," I told the man as the three of us stopped in front of him.
"Sorry, ma'am, no can do. This is an active investigation," The Sargent told me, halting our progress. Sherlock sighed in irritation as John looked up at Sherlock in exasperation.
"We're consultants with Scotland Yard, and we need to speak to one of the tenants. His name is Justin Guthrie," Sherlock told the Sargent who looked back at us, raising one eyebrow as he looked over the three of us.
"You said Guthrie?" He asked us and I nodded as Sherlock rolled his eyes. I looked up at him pointedly and squeezed his hand slightly to calm him down. There was no sense getting irritated over something like this.
"Yes. Shall I spell it for you? G…," Sherlock started in, talking to him like he was an idiot before the Sargent cut him off.
"No, but considering he's the one we're here for, you might want to talk to one of the detectives. Mr. Guthrie jumped out the window of his apartment a little while ago," The Sargent told us before letting us inside. The three of us shared a look before we headed up the stairs. One of the detectives told us that Guthrie had been found by one of the neighbour's impaled on the fence out in the shared garden behind the block of flats. We were told that Gregson would be arriving soon and we could go up to his flat and look around if we liked while we waited for him.
His flat was rather well kept. He was obviously a man of enough means and he had a baby grand piano taking up much of the space in the living room. We pulled on our latex gloves before we started our investigation around the room, inspecting every inch of it. Sherlock and I discovered blood on the floor right by the window that Guthrie supposedly jumped out of. We shared a look of understanding. Guthrie didn't jump, he was pushed. The couch was a few inches out of place and the rug was slightly scrunched up. An altercation had taken place here. Guthrie knew whoever attacked him though as there were no signs of forced entry. That supported our theory that he wasn't working alone. So someone on his team wanted him dead. I crossed over to the piano and ran a hand over the keys.
"Do you play?" Sherlock asked me noticing my inspection of the instrument and I looked up at him and smiled slightly as I sat down at the piano bench.
"I used to," I told him before I hit the first key, producing a high C note. The piano was perfectly in tune. I ran my fingers over more keys before I started actually playing. "Alistair was this old friend of my Mum's and he was like a second father to me and he taught me how to play when I was a girl. My mum used to play. I got into playing the viola more, but I would still play the piano every now and then," I told Sherlock as I continued playing, John joining us from the kitchen to watch my performance. The melody was slow and sweet and one that I remembered playing often. (A/N She's playing River Flows In You by Yiruma)
"It's beautiful," John told me and I grinned up at him. It was nice to know that after so long I could still play. It was like a muscle memory. The three of us looked up as Gregson and Sargent Bell walked into Guthrie's flat as I continued to play.
"So the precinct detective says this is a suicide, but you think that he stole $40 million in diamonds and then got killed behind it? So what's the story?" Gregson asked us, having obviously spoken with the detective downstairs who we had told our theory to about Guthrie. I stopped playing and looked up at Gregson and Sargent Bell as Sherlock answered him.
"Obviously, a violent altercation took place. Blood evidence. Myself and Lexi found it and examined it closely. Spatter pattern indicates it's a high forced event," Sherlock told Gregson who looked at him in confusion not getting his meaning.
"He's saying the blood came from someone who was hit in the nose," John explained, raising an eyebrow at Sherlock as if asking him, 'Was that really that difficult to say?' Sherlock rolled his eyes at the army doctor and I shook my head fondly at the both of them.
"Okay. It's worth looking into. I still don't see the connection to that robbery," Gregson said looking to me, but I gestured to Sherlock to take this one. I was still working on getting Gregson to work with Sherlock and trust his deductions as well.
"I was just thinking about that when you arrived. The answer, of course, lies in those vases. These two have three layers of decorative rock, each one a different colour. This one has two layers, but the mineral residue on the glass indicates that it was full till very recently," Sherlock said as he strode across the room to the table that the vases were on. I got up from the piano bench and joined him, standing by his side.
"Many of the stones stolen from the Svalbard Exchange were uncut diamonds. They happen to look exactly like decorative rocks. Now, if you'd just stolen some, this vase would be an ideal hiding place. We're guessing that whichever co-conspirator just relieved Mr. Guthrie of his share of the diamonds thought the same thing," I told Gregson as Sherlock picked up the vase that had only two layers and started dumping it across the table.
"He was, however, in a hurry. He might have missed one, human error," Sherlock said as he plucked a rock from the mix that was clear and shaped differently from the rest. I was no gem expert but it looked like diamond to me. I grinned at Sherlock as he looked up at me in triumph.
"You're telling us that's an uncut diamond?" Gregson asked Sherlock and I nodded at him in confirmation as Sargent Bell took it from him and put it into an evidence bag. "Let's get some more detectives down here. I want to start a full-scale canvass. Looks like we have a murder on our hands," Gregson called out to the other detectives waiting outside the flat. John looked down at his watch before looking over at me.
"Look, it's almost 6:00. We have to start getting ready," John told me and I looked at my own watch in surprise.
"Oh, right. Dinner with your family," I told him before turning to Sherlock. "You got this on your own for a few hours?" I asked him and he raised an eyebrow at me questioningly as I pulled off my gloves.
"Obviously," He told me and I grinned as reached up on tip toes and pressed a kiss to his jaw line which was the only place I could reach. He looked down at me curiously and I patted his arm before I made towards the door with John.
"We'll see you back at the flat later. Behave," I told him and he rolled his eyes as I sent a wave of goodbye to Gregson and Sargent Bell. John and I made our way out of the building of flats and hailed a cab back to Baker Street.
"Thank you, for this. I know you've got a case on…," John started before I cut him off.
"John, you don't have to thank me. I want to come," I told John, reaching across the cab and squeezing his hand. He grinned back at me sheepishly as we finally made it back to Baker Street. I paid the cabbie even after John's protest and we made it up to the flat. I pulled off my coat and draped it over the back of John's chair with my scarf. "So what is the dress code for dinner?" I asked John as I flicked on the kettle. A cup of tea while getting ready would be nice.
"Knowing my mother, everything short of suit and tie," John told me with a grimace as he leaned against the kitchen counter as I pulled two mugs down from the counter. "Look, um, she might be a bit…rude. I want to apologize to you in advance," John told me nervously rubbing the back of his neck as I poured the water into our mugs and set the tea bags to steep.
"I've had dinners with Mycroft and I've dealt with Anderson and Donovan. Next to them your mother should be a real charm. Besides I survived my father," I told John as I handed him his mug of tea. "Don't worry, she can't scare me off that easily," I told John, squeezing his shoulder before taking my tea with me back to my room.
I chose a black dress with long sleeves that would cover the stitches still on my arm which thankfully only had a bandage over them now instead of the gauze. The dress was modest with a high neck line and it went well past my knees. It said classy, but not overdressed. I pulled it on before I searched and found a pair of black ballet flats in my closet. I was already taller than John, I didn't need to tower over him. Once dressed I crossed over to the bathroom with my mug of tea, the sounds of John moving around upstairs reaching my ears. I plugged in my curling iron and drank my tea as I wanted for it to heat up. I poked at the cuts on my forehead, wincing slightly. Good thing I invested in good foundation as the bruise on my jaw looked very lovely. I quickly curled my hair, stopping every now and then to take a sip of tea before I split my hair in half and braided each side into a fishtail braid. I pulled the hair a bit before twisting both braids into a sophisticated updo and pinning it back. I quickly put on some foundation, happy that it covered most of the bruising. Unless you knew it was there you wouldn't actually be able to notice it all that much. I added just a bit of brown eyeliner and blush with some tinted lip balm and I was ready to go. I returned to my room and grabbed a small handbag from my closet and threw my mobile and my wallet into it before I walked out into the kitchen and set my mug down into the sink. John was already waiting in the living room and he had his back turned to the kitchen as I walked into the living room.
"What do you think? Watson seal of approval?" I asked John with a grin and he turned around to look at me before I saw him grin.
"You look lovely," John told me as he picked up my coat and helped me slip into it. He handed me my scarf and I tied it around my neck before I waited for John to get into his coat. The two of us walked down stairs and we waited as John tried to hail us a cab, failing miserably. I stepped out and whistled loudly at a passing cab who finally slowed down for us. John shook his head at me but opened the door for me like a gentleman and letting me slid in first. John gave the cabbie the address to the restaurant we were meeting his mother and sister at and then we reverted to nervous silence.
I wasn't too worried about meeting Harry and John's mother. I was good with meeting new people and I was making it my mission to finally get John's mother to realize just how important her son was. My phone pinged and I pulled it out of my hand bag and checked it as John looked over at it curiously. I held up my phone to show him the text Sherlock had sent me. "Apparently we're awaiting the results of the DNA tests on the blood," I told John who shook his head at me.
We arrived at the restaurant and John paid the cabbie, not listening to my protests this time, before he helped me out of the cab and offered me his arm as he led me inside. We told the maître d' who we were meeting and he led us back to a table where John's mum and Harry were already sitting and talking. They both got up as we joined them and Harry gave John a big hug with a cry of "Johnny!" After the obligatory hug, John pressed a kiss to his mother's cheek before looking back at where I was standing with my hands clasped in front of me, waiting. I was actively trying to not deduce either of them for John's sake.
"You must be John's girlfriend," John's Mum said as she looked me over with a critical eye. I could see John's cheeks turning red as he looked at me in embarrassment. He was about to step in before I stepped forward and put a hand on his arm to stop him, offering my other hand to Mrs. Watson.
"His friend actually. John is way too good for me," I told Mrs. Watson as I shook her hand.
"Well I wouldn't say that," John stammered and I elbowed him in the ribs covertly as I introduced myself to his mother.
"Lexi MacKenna, it's a pleasure to meet you," I told the older woman and she eyed John questioningly. "And you must be John's sister Harry," I continued as Harry, instead of shaking my hand, pulled me into a tight hug.
"Johnny sure choses his friends well," Harry said winking at me as John cleared his throat awkwardly. I laughed and allowed John to pull my chair out for me. He helped me out of my coat and put it on the back of my chair before I sat, pulling off my scarf and setting it on the back of the chair in the process. John took the seat next to me as John's mother and Harry took their seats again.
"How did you two meet?" John's mother asked me and I looked at John and grinned as he looked uncomfortable. I squeezed his knee under the table and gave him a meaningful look to relax.
"Well, it's actually a rather funny story. See I know Mike Stamford who is an old Uni buddy of John's and we were having lunch together when we ran into John. We got to talking and found out that John like me was looking for a flat mate and Mike introduced us to another man and we all ended up becoming flatmates together," I told Mrs. Watson and she raised an eyebrow at me.
"So you live together?" She asked me as Harry wiggled her eyebrows at me.
"Yes, but the three of us are hardly in the flat anyway," I told her with a laugh as John relaxed beside me as he realized I could handle all of his mother's questions. The waiter came over to take our drink orders and I could tell that John wanted alcohol, but couldn't order it because of Harry. "Later," I whisper to him conspiratorially as we both ordered water. John grinned back at me slightly and shook his head at how I had guessed what he was thinking.
"So, what do you do for a living?" Harry asked me with interest and I looked up at her over the top of my menu which I was perusing. This restaurant was more than a little expensive and I rather doubted that John's Mum or Harry were expecting to pay which meant that they would leave it to John. Well, that wasn't going to happen.
"I'm a consulting detective," I told Harry and John's mother raised an eyebrow at me.
"I've never heard of that before," She said with a sniff and I shook my head quickly, a grin still plastered on my face.
"No, I expect you wouldn't. I'm one of only two in the world. I invented the job," I told her and she shot a look at John who shifted uncomfortably in his seat, obviously waiting for his mother to say something. "Basically when the police are out of their depth on a case they come to me or my colleague and we consult on the case for them," I told Harry and Mrs. Watson and Mrs. Watson stared at me.
"The police don't consult amateurs," She scoffed and John tensed beside me as I just looked back at Mrs. Watson with a little smirk.
"You're right, they don't," I told her pointedly and Harry laughed at that as the waiter chose that moment to come back to take our orders. I ordered the lobster and cheese ravioli in a vodka crème tomato sauce while John got the steak I knew he was eyeing. Harry ordered the lobster while Mrs. Watson decided on the salmon, two of the most expensive things on the menu. They were obviously playing up John's kindness. I got my phone out and texted John under the table and he looked over at me as he subtly took his phone out.
Dinner is on Mycroft-L
John looked up at me and frowned in confusion and I grinned back at him and nodded. He shook his head slightly as Harry started the conversation up again. "So what sort of things do consulting detectives do?"
"Well, we solve cases. You might have heard about the serial suicides case a little while back," I said and both Harry and Mrs. Watson nodded at me. "I worked that case with my colleague. Actually John worked that case with us too," I said and John nodded slightly as his mother and Harry looked back at us in surprise.
"Oh?" Mrs. Watson asked as she looked at John. "You didn't tell me about that," Mrs. Watson said and John shuffled uncomfortably under her gaze like a child being scolded.
"No?" I asked her before looking back at John. "Well we've kept him busy lately. So Sherlock, that's the other consulting detective, and I figured out with John's help that all the suicides were actually murders and then John helped us find who the killer was," I explained and John smiled and me embarrassedly as I praised his work.
"I just helped out a little," John said as Harry leaned in closer, listening to every word while John's mother remained unimpressed.
"He was instrumental in solving that case. He also went to the trouble of saving my life. You see, Sherlock and I got into a spot of trouble and we found ourselves kidnapped and in the same situation as the rest of the victims. John showed up and saved the both of us. That was only the first time. He's saved my life three times now I think, the last being recently too," I said as Mrs. Watson and Harry nodded, Harry with actually interest. "John just helped Sherlock and I solve the case of two murders and help us discover a Chinese smuggling group. He even saved a girl's life. Quite a promising detective in his own right," I told Mrs. Watson, my accent slipping out slightly and John looked over at me his cheeks tinted slightly red.
"I'm not a detective. I just, I'm along for the ride for a while," John said and I slapped John's arm playfully.
"You're being modest. That's not the only cases he's helped me solve. I admit I've stolen him away a lot. It's very beneficial to my work to have a doctor with me. Hard to picture what he does, isn't it? Saving lives daily. Solving crimes now," I said with a grin and Mrs. Watson looked at John curiously.
"I've never thought of it that way," She said quietly and I nodded, patting John's arm slightly as his eyes widened a bit in surprise.
"Of course you haven't. You've raised a modest son. He would never say such a thing. He really is very important to my work. Besides having a live in doctor is certainly a necessity in my line of work," I said with a laugh and Harry joined in as even Mrs. Watson chuckled slightly as she watched John.
"Sorry, but are you Irish?" Harry asked me suddenly and I grinned at her and nodded.
"Aye, you caught me," I said pointing at her. "It's always the slip in the accent," I told John, pointing to him conspiratorially. "I moved to London seven years ago. I'm glad I did or I wouldn't have met John," I said, bringing the conversation back around to him. It wasn't about me, it was about John.
Our food finally arrived and that made conversation less awkward since we had something to occupy our mouths with. We made small talk throughout dinner and then we picked up on more conversation while we waited for our dessert to come. I was quite in the mood for a slice of triple chocolate cake. I told Harry and Mrs. Watson about other cases John had worked with us. Harry was very interested in what I had to say while Mrs. Watson only watched with interest. When the cheque came I slipped Mycroft's master card to John. He eyed me uncomfortably and I gave him a pointed look until the waiter came back and he handed the card to him. I pick pocket Mycroft when he was annoying. This card I had nicked off of him when he wanted me to move out of the flat. He could more than well pay for dinner for me. Mrs. Watson gave John a hug before we left and she awkwardly shook my hand before Harry gave us exuberant hugs. Harry also told me to call her if I ever needed a drinking buddy or was looking for a good time which got John very embarrassed. I took it as a compliment though. By the time we got into a cab heading back to Baker Street I could tell that John was emotionally spent.
"Thank you. Um, that went better than I expected it to," John said as we pulled away from the curbing and I looked over at him as I played with the sleeves of my jacket. I grinned at him and shrugged.
"If I can handle the Holmes' boys as you put it I can deal with you mother and sister," I told John and he chuckled before shaking his head ruefully.
"Thanks for paying too," John told me slightly embarrassed and I waved him off.
"Thank Mycroft for loving me so much," I told him, not about to tell him I nicked the card off of Mycroft. "So Harry seems nice enough," I told him and he looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sure you deduced her," John said and I shrugged. I had actually during dessert along with John's mother.
"Okay yeah, but it could have been worse," I told him and he nodded in agreement. We got back to Baker Street and John paid for the cab before we headed up to the flat. As soon as we stepped inside I could hear loud violin music. John looked at me before we both started up the stairs to the flat. We came into the living room to find Sherlock in his sweatpants and bed shirt with his robe on as he played by the window a very loud Vivaldi piece.
"SHERLOCK!" John yelled above the music and Sherlock turned back to us lowering his bow.
"Ah, you're back," Sherlock said as he deposited his violin into his chair as John helped me out of my coat. "Harry still an alcoholic?" Sherlock asked John and the army doctor glared at him as he hung my coat and scarf up behind the door and then his own.
"What have you been doing then?" I asked Sherlock, changing the subject as he picked up a mobile phone off of the coffee table which was not his own.
"I've been curious as to who Justin Guthrie might have collaborated with to rob the diamond exchange. I've been sifting through his phone in my downtime," Sherlock said as he walked up and over the coffee table before lying down on the couch, his hands in his prayer pose with the mobile held between them.
"That's the dead guy's phone? Isn't that evidence?" John asked Sherlock as he sat down heavily in his chair. I went to the kitchen and I got a beer from the fridge for John and I poured myself a glass of Sangria. It wasn't as good as Angelo's but it would do the trick. I used the counter to open the bottle for John before I returned to the living room and handed his drink over to him. "Ta," He said as he saluted me with the bottle before taking a long drink.
"He stored three phone numbers in his notes section. Each one has just a first name next to it: Jeremy, Amelie, Alex. These are the names of three people with whom he served on the jury," Sherlock said ignoring his question as I lifted his head and sat down, letting him put his head back down in my lap. He opened one eye lazily and looked up at me curiously. I just took a long sip of my Sangria and sighed as I reclined into the couch cushions.
"So they kept in touch," John said and Sherlock turned his head, his curls all ruffled up as he turned to look at the army doctor. He looked rather cute with his hair all mussed up. I took another long drink of my Sangria. I was not buzzed enough for those kinds of thoughts.
"Have you served jury service? Did you have any desire to see those people again when it was over?" Sherlock asked him as he jumped up and walked up and over the coffee table again, picking his violin up again. He started playing though less loudly than before. "It's this case, John. It renews one's faith in the profession. It's a life of boundless surprises, detective work," Sherlock turned, finishing his piece before he put his violin down again and crossed over to the mirror where he had Briggs picture pinned to it. "These are the four men who broke into The Leviathan in 2009," Sherlock told us as he gestured to the original team's pictures. "Now, we've already met Charles Briggs, lock-pick and locksmith extraordinaire. This is Vance Paulson. He was the inside man," Sherlock told us as he tapped another picture next to Briggs. "The late Carter Averill, organizer of the crime, genius. He mastered everything from computer coding to surveillance software," Sherlock continued as he taped the next picture up. "And, finally, David Retts, PhD in electrical engineering," Sherlock finished as he pinned the last of the original teams picture to the mirror.
"Your point?" John asked Sherlock as he and I took another long drink. It would appear that Sherlock had been working while we were out. I got up, setting down my half full, I was an optimist, glass of Sangria on the coffee table as I crossed the living room and perched myself in Sherlock's chair.
"We already know that Justin Guthrie's programming skills allowed him to perform much the same function as Carter Averill," Sherlock told us as he pinned Guthrie's picture to the mirror under Averill's. "Now let's meet some of his fellow jurors. Alex Wilson worked as an electrical engineer until his employer forced early retirement on him," Sherlock told us as he pinned Wilson's picture up under Retts. "Jeremy Lopez, son of a locksmith. Paid his way through school by plying his father's trade," Sherlock said pinning Lopez's picture up under Beiggs' before John interrupted him.
"So you're saying that Justin Guthrie committed this robbery with other members of the jury?" John asked Sherlock and I hummed in agreement as Sherlock looked down at me, silently asking for my opinion.
"It probably started as a joke. Jurors spend a lot of time together. Lots of idle chitchat. They might have noted that between them, they had the same skill set as the thieves they were trying. Once Justin Guthrie spotted the coded programming language, things turned serious," I said and Sherlock nodded at me and I grinned. Once Guthrie figured out the code and how to get into the Leviathan their little joke turned into more of a reality.
"Exactly, they realized they'd been handed the recipe for making millions of pounds," Sherlock said and John looked back at us curiously, raising one of his eyebrows at us.
"So, who was the inside man?" John asked us and Sherlock pointed at him before picking up another picture and pinning it under Paulson's. A woman. Ah, it screamed me.
"This is Amelie Widomski, a homemaker from Brighton. I couldn't make any sense of it until I noticed that she'd written her maiden name on some paperwork. Amelie Widomski was born "Amelie Batonvert," Sherlock told us looking at me pointedly. I looked up at him in surprise and he nodded.
"Green Stick," I said with a laugh and Sherlock nodded at me again.
"The manager of the Svalbard Diamond Exchange is her brother. Whether he was in on it or whether she just used the family connection to gain access during working hours, these are the four people who robbed the Svalbard Diamond Exchange two days ago. And one of them is killing the others to keep the proceeds," Sherlock concluded. The three of us shared a look and I sat back in Sherlock's chair, adopting Sherlock's typical prayer pose. It would seem that we had a case.
"Well boys, I think we're back on track," I told the both of them before I hopped out of Sherlock's chair and picked my glass of Sangria and took a sip of it. I turned back to them and grinned. "Well, I'm going to get changed," I told them before I carried my wine back to my room and rummaged around until I found a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t shirt from my Uni days. I took my hair down and ran my fingers through my braids, untangling the strands. I walked back into the living room, my hair full of more curls than normal and I found the boys sitting in their chairs. I curled up on the couch with a book and we passed the evening, John typing on his laptop as Sherlock played some online poker. I had found out that he was rather good at it and that was one of his main sources of income since he didn't actually get paid for consulting for the police. I said goodnight to the boys after I finished my chapter and I headed off to bed. Soon the sound of the violin reached my ears and it was playing the piano lullaby I had played just hours before.
