Leaving the shop, the trio began walking down the street.
"It's an ancient number system. Hangzhou." Sherlock explained as they swiftly made their way down the street, the pieces finally coming into place in his mind.
"These days, only street traders use it. Those were numbers written on the wall at the bank and at the library." He rambled, heading towards the food market. All over were the same symbols on items and signs alongside the English versions. Sherlock paused, looking through the signs on the produce and the signs nearby.
"Numbers written in an ancient Chinese dialect." Sherlock summarized. John spotted a familiar scribble by one of the vegetables.
"It's a fifteen! What we thought was the artist's tag, it's a number fifteen." John informed, looking over at Sherlock.
"And the blindfold; the horizontal line? That was a number as well." Adara added, reaching over for a tag that matched.
"The Chinese number one." She beamed, displaying it to the boys.
"We've found it!" John cheered. Sherlock turned, with the other two following after him. Adara's eyes flitted to the side casually when she paused as someone caught her eye. Before she could fully turn to get a better look, the person was gone, leaving her with a wary feeling.
"Adara are you coming?" John questioned, glancing back at her.
"Yea…." She trailed off, narrowing her eyes as she looked up and down the street before following after them.
...
...
Soon they found themselves at a café across the street from the Lucky Cat store they were just in. They all sat at a corner table that had a direct line of sight to the shop. Sherlock was writing down the Hangzhou numbers alongside the English equivalents onto one of the paper napkins. John sat across from him writing down his own notes. Adara was between the two, lounging in her chair listening to them think aloud.
"Two men travel back from China. Both head straight for the Lucky Cat emporium. What did they see?" John mused aloud.
"It's not what they saw; it's what they both brought back in those suitcases." Adara corrected. Sherlock nodded absently, folding up the napkin with his notes.
"And you don't mean duty free." John quipped. The waitress came by to drop of food for John and Adara. Sherlock as usual had nothing.
"Think about what Sebastian told us; about Van Coon, about how he stayed afloat in the markets." Sherlock pointed out, leaning his arms on the table to talk with them quietly.
"Lost five million…"
"…and made it back in a week." Sherlock finished John's thought. John nodded as he began digging into his food.
"That's how he made such easy money." Adara hummed.
"He was a smuggler." John mumbled around a mouthful of food.
"A guy like him, it would have been perfect."
"Quite clever. Businessman, making frequent trips to Asia. And Lukis was the same, a journalist writing about China." Adara surmised. John continued nodding along as he ate. Adara smirked at him, while she took a small bite of her own meal.
"Both of them smuggled stuff out, and the Lucky Cat was their drop-off." Sherlock continued, staring absently at the shop.
"But why did they die? I mean, it doesn't make sense. If they both turn up at the shop and deliver the goods, why would someone threaten them and kill them after the event, after they'd finished the job?" John asked in confusion. Sherlock paused at that, leaning in his chair thoughtfully. After a few moments of thought he smiled, realizing the answer.
"What if one of them was light-fingered?" he suggested.
"How do you mean?"
"What if they stole something." Adara rephrased.
"And the killer doesn't know which of them took it, so he threatens them both. Right." John summarized. Sherlock stared back at the shop once more. He frowned, noticing door right next to the shop. A Yellow Pages was still wrapped and sitting by the door, signifying that someone was living there.
"Remind me….when was the last time that it rained?" Sherlock inquired. Without waiting for the answer, he stood up and left. John sat back in his seat in exasperation, staring down at his barely eaten food.
"Don't worry I can make something up tonight." Adara gently assured, getting up to follow after Sherlock. John rolled his eyes and got up to chase after them once more.
...
...
Sherlock bent down next to a Yellow Pages by the door to the flat above. The plastic was still wet, and the corner had been ripped. He ran his fingers over the exposed paper.
"It's been here since Monday." He informed, knowing the others had caught up to him. Adara pressed the doorbell labeled 'Soo Lin Yao' as Sherlock straightened back up. Waiting a few seconds they realized no one was coming to the door. Peering down the adjoining ally, Adara led the way towards a fire escape.
"No-ones been in that flat for at least three days." Sherlock muttered thoughtfully.
"Could've gone on holiday." John suggested.
"Do you leave your windows open when you go on holiday?" Adara queried, pointing up at the open window to the flat. Glancing around Sherlock spotted the raised ladder attached to the fire escape. He gestured towards it, looking at Adara.
"After you." He suggested. Adara shot him a dry look.
"Do you want me to break an ankle trying to jump in these boots?" she shot back, lightly lifting her foot up to display her heeled bootie. Sherlock pursed his lips in displeasure.
"It wouldn't be the first time." He countered. Adara nodded. John silently watched the couple in amusement.
"Yes, but that was in sneakers which are much more stable. Besides, you're the tallest and therefore the most likely to grab it on the first go." She countered. Sherlock grumbled and reluctantly began taking a few steps back for his running start.
"Will leap over buildings in the damn boots but refuses to jump for an over-hanging ladder." He muttered under his breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing." Adara smirked at him and stood aside while Sherlock made the leap. Grabbing the end of the ladder he jerked on it, pulling it down to the ground. Without waiting he climbed up the stairs, only for the ladder to swing back into its original upright position when he reached the landing.
"Sherlock!" John shouted, eyeing the ladder that was much too high for him.
"We will wait by the door for you." Adara suggested, ushering John back down the alleyway towards the front entrance. Without looking back Sherlock continued his trek, climbing through the window into the kitchen. He yelped in alarm as he almost knocks over the vase of flowers, snatching it out of the air just before it hit the carpet. Setting the vase down he frowns at the carpet below, eyeing the wet patch.
"Someone else has been here!" Sherlock called, not thinking that the other two might not be able to hear him.
"Somebody else broke into the flat and knocked over the vase just like I did." He muttered aloud. Stalking through the small flat he reached out to open the washing machine. Inside he sniffs and grimaces at the slightly moldy smell of the clothes left behind. Outside John rings the doorbell but it is ignored as Sherlock continues his investigations.
"Do you think maybe you could let us in this time?" John shouted from outside. Sherlock fingered some of the towels in the kitchen.
"Can you not keep doing this please?" John calls irritably, lifting the letterbox open so he could be heard better. Sherlock continues to ignore the calls and sniffs the milk in the fridge.
"I'm not the first." Sherlock finally yells back in response.
...
Outside Adara frowned, leaning closer to the door as she couldn't quite hear what was said over the noise in the street.
"What?" she asks.
"Somebody's been in here before me!" Sherlock reiterates louder this time.
"What is he saying?" John inquires, looking to Adara who shrugged.
...
Sherlock kneels down next to a shift in the rug where someone's foot had messed it up.
"Size eight feet." he muttered, holding up his pocket magnifier. He stands back up, pushing through the beaded curtain separating the kitchen and living room.
"Small, but….athletic." he continued muttering, as he followed the steps.
...
Outside John growls in frustration.
"I'm wasting my breath." He muttered in exasperation. Pacing in front of the door he turns back to aggressively ring the doorbell again.
...
Inside, Sherlock pics up a photograph of two Chinese children, a boy and a girl. He eyes the fresh hand print on the glass, where someone pressed their fingers against the image of the girl. Sherlock held up his magnifier over the prints.
"Small, strong hands. Our acrobat." He muses softly. Frowning Sherlock looks back around the small space.
"But why didn't he close the window when he left?..." he trailed off, closing his eyes in annoyance at himself. Realizing his mistake.
"Oh, stupid. Stupid. Obvious…..He's still here." Slowly looking around, Sherlock spots a folding screen in front of the bed. Placing the magnifier back into his pocket he quietly stalked towards the screen. Reaching forward slowly and carefully he jerks it back…to find nothing. Just as he starts to relax someone from behind wraps a long scarf around his throat, cutting off his airway. Sherlock jolts in surprise as the attacker wraps the scarf tighter around his windpipe and drags the tall man to the floor. Desperately Sherlock grabs at the fabric in an attempt to gain some air back. However, the assailant continues to toss him around, strangling him.
...
Unaware of the situation John bends down to the letterbox opening again; Adara leaning against the door frame with a frown.
"Any time you want to include us" John snaps in displeasure.
...
Inside Sherlock gurgles quietly.
"John! Adara!" he tried but the sound is muffled by his lack of air.
...
Downstairs John grins mirthlessly at the door.
"No, I'm Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone because no-one else can compete with…my massive intellect!" John mocked, angrily shouting back into the letterbox on the last two words. Adara smiled in amusement but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Instead she stared at the door, wondering why it was taking so long.
...
Meanwhile Sherlock continues to struggle but his movements become more sluggish as his air remains cut off for a longer period of time. As his hands fall away from the scarf, seconds away from passing out, the attacker lets him go. The persistent ringing of the doorbell barely registers as Sherlock blinks, trying not to sink into unconsciousness. The attacker shoves something into his coat pocket, disappearing while Sherlock is left on the floor coughing and sputtering as he tries to take in as much air as possible. Rolling onto his front Sherlock shakily makes it up onto his hands and knees. Pulling the scarf off his neck, he greedily gasps for air. In a few moments Sherlock regains his brain function and sits back on his heels, rummaging in his coat pocket. He pulls out a black origami flower and stares at it, knowing the implications of said flower. Quickly pocketing the flower once more Sherlock stumbles to his feet and pulls himself together in an attempt to be presentable as he heads for the door downstairs.
...
John sputters in exasperation and glares at the man as the door finally opens. Instantly Adara narrows her eyes, taking notice of the difference in his shaky bearing.
"The, uh, milk's gone off and the washing's starting to smell. Somebody left in a hurry three days ago." Sherlock croaked out rapidly.
"Somebody?" John inquired, with a frown Adara takes a step forward, reaching for Sherlock's neck that was covered by his scarf and coat collar. He bats her hand away, still explaining the situation.
"Soo Lin Yao. We have to find her." he nodded; voice still scratchy. When John glanced away, Sherlock shot a warning look towards the blonde woman beside him.
"But how exactly?" John asked. Adara knelt down and picked up a folded envelope in on the floor. Turning it over she read the inscription silently, holding it out for Sherlock to read.
Soo Lin,
Please ring me
Tell me you're OK
Andy
At the bottom of the envelope was the label: National Antiquities Museum.
"Maybe we could start with this." Sherlock suggests, walking out and closing the door behind him. He quickly darts down the street, avoiding Adara's hands and eye contact.
"You've gone all croaky. Are you getting a cold?" John asks in concern.
"I'm fine." Sherlock coughed sternly.
...
...
The trio made their way to the National Antiquities Museum. As John led the way to the front desk to inquire about 'Andy' Adara took the opportunity to yank Sherlock into a more secluded area. The tall man yelped quietly in surprise at the force which his arm was yanked. He said nothing as she weaved through the halls and pillars until they reached a small alcove, hidden from sight.
"What happened in the flat?" she inquired without listening to his grumbles of protest. Sherlock pursed his lips.
"I found signs that someone else had been in there. Nothing happened." He explained briefly. Adara narrowed her eyes at him.
"Take off your scarf." She demanded. The man blanched before rolling his eyes stubbornly.
"I don't think this is the time for you to disrobe me." He muttered sourly.
"That is not what this is and you know it. We are inside…so why don't you take it off?" she pressed, not falling for his antics. Sherlock didn't move. In a flash Adara reached down to pinch him hard on the thigh. Instinctively Sherlock reached down to defend himself; exactly what she had been planning on. As he leaned down and put his head near her own, Adara reached over and unwrapped his scarf.
"Wha….Get your hands off me you crazy woman!" he adamantly protested, his wrist having to be restrained as he tried to fight her off. Before he knew it, his neck had been exposed and Adara was staring at the thin bruise that was starting to appear around his throat.
"Sherlock! What is this?" she whispered, gently reaching out to touch the sensitive skin. He blushed, refusing to look at her as she fluttered about his injury affectionately.
"Ok, now what really happened?" Adara prompted again, much gentler this time.
"The killer was still inside, caught me by surprise and left this in my pocket." Sherlock explained evenly, holding out the flower for her to see. Adara frowned as she thought on his explanation. Her eyes closed in realization.
"The window….it was still open because they had just gotten there." She whispered, shaking her head in disbelief.
"I'm so stupid, how could I miss that?" Adara huffed. Sherlock's lips quirked up and he reached out to squeeze her hand.
"Honest mistake. We can't all be observational geniuses." He tried to placate. Her face scrunched up at the underhanded compliment but she reluctantly grinned at his attempt to comfort her. After a beat she frowned, before staring up at him suspiciously.
"You said you were caught by surprise….you didn't know they were in there either did you?" she accused.
"Of course, I noticed." Sherlock quickly defended. If it were anyone else they would have taken his word for it…but…..
"No, you didn't you just lied." She instantly retorted, taking her hand out of his to cross her arms. Sherlock stared at her blankly.
"I didn't."
"Yes you did, you blinked three times successively when you made your claim." Sherlock stared at her.
"Fine I didn't know, happy?" he asked sourly, roughly taking his scarf back and walking away in a huff. Adara snickered behind him, teasing him further.
"Honest mistake, dear. We can't all be observational geniuses" Sherlock shot a withering glare over his shoulder at the familiar words. Adara simply smirked in response to his ire.
"Daft woman." He muttered grumpily, choosing to ignore Adara as she tried to quiet her giggles.
"You know your little stunt back there would be classified as domestic abuse. I could report you." Sherlock gripped.
"Oh don't be a baby. Besides who would you call… Lestrade, Mycroft?" she scoffed, knowing his threat was empty.
"Both of them would applaud me in keeping you in line." Adara added, taking longer strides to match his own swift pace. Sherlock side eyed her.
"I don't need to be kept in line. I'm not a child." He hissed defensively.
"Then stop acting like one."
...
The two soon found their way to the display area where John was meeting with Andy.
"Where have you two been?" John whispered as he watched them approach from another section of the museum.
"Just about….now I presume you are Andy, who left the note at Soo Lin's" Sherlock quickly redirected, looking to the young brunette by the displays. Andy nodded timidly.
"When was the last time that you saw her?" Sherlock inquired.
"Three days ago, um here at the museum." Andy answered, with his hands in his pockets. He watched as Sherlock and Adara idly wandered around the room. Adara eyed the glass case showing some clay teapots; paying close attention to the only shiny one amid the dull pots. She frowned at it curiously.
"This morning they told me she resigned just like that." Andy further explained, grabbing Adara's attention back. Sherlock glanced around the room at the Asian figurines and artworks.
"Just left her work unfinished." Andy continued, looking at John who was the only one staying still. Sherlock turned to look at the man.
"What was the last thing that she did on her final afternoon?"
...
Andy led the group down to the archives, turning on the light as they entered the large room.
"She does this demonstration for the tourists. A-a tea ceremony. So she would have packed up her things and just put them in here." Andy explained, leading them to an open section of shelves. He reached over and turned the handle next to it, opening the section of shelves wider. Sherlock looked around the room and his interest was piqued by a large statue that was covered by shadows at the far side of the basement. Stalking closer to it, he realized the link to the rest of the homicides. On the statue was a gold horizontal line across the eyes of the woman, and the figure eight squiggle painted on the center or the torso. John, Adara, and Andy slowly turned and frowned at the markings. There was still one more hit put out.
...
...
It was dark out by the time Sherlock, John and Adara finished in the museum.
"We have to get to Soo Lin Yao." Sherlock instructed as they swiftly walked down the stairs of the building.
"If she's still alive." John pointed out.
"Sherlock!" another voice catches the groups attention. Looking over they spot Raz running over towards them.
"Oh, look who it is." John muttered sourly.
"Found something you'll like." Raz informed, with a grin. Without further explanation he took off in the opposite direction with Sherlock and Adara close behind. John followed a bit more reluctantly.
