Later, the police had been called and a photographer was taking pictures of Van Coon's body lying on the bed. A forensics officer was dusting for fingerprints on the nearby mirror, and distant voices suggested that other forensics officers were elsewhere in the flat.
Sherlock had taken off his coat and was in the bedroom putting on a pair of latex gloves. John and Lex stood beside him.
"D'you think he'd lost a lot of money? I mean, suicide is pretty common among City boys" he asked.
Sherlock shook his head. "We don't know that it was suicide"
"Come on. The door was locked from the inside; you had to climb down the balcony"
"Which is the point John," Lex said, making him turn to her who was looking around but stood firm. "If we managed to enter through the balcony, someone else could have done the same. There are many ways to kill somebody, the balcony most convenient if you have the skills"
The two men looked at each other, impressed by her knowledge which sounded slightly more coming from experience than general knowledge. They, however, stayed silent and Sherlock continued his inspection.
He had squatted down by a suitcase on the floor near the bed, had opened the lid and was looking at the contents. "Been away three days, judging by the laundry" he saw that there's a deep indentation in the clothing inside the case, then straightened up and looked at the duo. "Look at the case. There was something tightly packed inside it"
"Thanks. I'll take your word for it" John said.
"Problem?"
"Yeah, I'm not desperate to root around some bloke's dirty underwear"
Lex shook her head and bent one knee to be by Sherlock's height. He pointed out what he had seen and wh3 leaned closer, taking a look. Indeed, it seemed that something had been placed there or better say, had been hidden. Most likely taken away in a hurry since no one fixed the indentation.
Sherlock left as she stood up and watched him walk to the foot of the bed. "Those symbols at the bank – the graffiti. Why were they put there?"
"What, some sort of code?"
"Obviously" Having looked closely at Van Coon's legs, he moved up and carefully opened the man's jacket to look at his inside pockets. "Why were they painted? If you want to communicate, why not use e-mail?"
"Well, maybe he wasn't answering"
"Oh good. You follow"
"No"
Sherlock threw him a look and then turned to Lex. "He was avoiding answering"
He gave a nod at her and then moved on to examine Van Coon's hands. "What kind of message would everyone try to avoid?" John frowned in confusion.
"What about this morning – those letters you were looking at?"
"Bills" the short man replied.
"Check his mouth" Lex pointed out. Sherlock gave a nod and gently praised open Van Coon's mouth, only to pull out a small black origami flower from inside. "He was being threatened" she concluded as she looked at the origami flower.
"Bag this up, will you ..." a man's voice was heard from outside the bedroom.
John looked closely at the paper flower as Sherlock lifted an evidence bag to put the flower into it "Not by the gas board"
" ... and see if you can get prints off this glass," the same voice said and the owner of it walked into the room.
He was a plain-clothed police officer who looked too young in Lex's mind. He walked into the bedroom and Sherlock quickly walked towards him in return.
"Ah, Sergeant. We haven't met" he offered his hand to shake but the young man put his hands on his hips.
"Yeah, I know who you are, and I'd prefer it if you didn't tamper with any of the evidence"
Lowering his hand, Sherlock gave the evidence bag to the officer and turned his best stroppy look on him. "We've phoned Lestrade. Is he on his way?"
"He's busy. I'm in charge. And it's not Sergeant; it's Detective Inspector Dimmock"
Sherlock looked at him in surprise, then turned and shared his surprised look with John and Lex.
Dimmock walked out of the room and the trio followed him into the living room where he handed the bag to one of the forensics team. "We're obviously looking at a suicide"
John shrugged his shoulders. "That does seem the only explanation of all the facts"
Lex held the need to facepalm and left out a sigh in defeat.
She looked at Sherlock who was in a similar situation but didn't show anything on his well-structured face. Instead, he took off the latex gloves and turned back to the John. "Wrong. It's one possible explanation of some of the facts" he then looked at Dimmock. "You've got a solution that you like, but you're choosing to ignore anything you see that doesn't comply with it"
The young man looked back, challenging him with his eyes. "Like?"
"The wound was on the right side of his head"
"And?"
"Van Coon was left-handed" Lex pointed out and Sherlock gave a nod.
Then, the man proceeded to go into an elaborate mime as he demonstrated his point, pretending to try and point a gun to his right temple with his left hand. "Requires quite a bit of contortion"
"Left-handed?"
"Oh, I'm amazed you didn't notice. All you have to do is look around this flat" he replied with sarcasm and got to work, first pointing at the table beside the sofa. " Coffee table on the left-hand side; coffee mug handle pointing to the left. Power sockets: habitually used the ones on the left ...Pen and paper on the left-hand side of the phone because he picked it up with his right and took down messages with his left. D'you want me to go on?"
"No, I think you've covered it," John said tiredly while Lex smirked and kept watching.
"Oh, I might as well; I'm almost at the bottom of the list," Sherlock told him, earning a faint chuckle from the female of the group. "There's a knife on the breadboard with butter on the right side of the blade because he used it with his left *turns to Dimmock* It's highly unlikely that a left-handed man would shoot himself in the right side of his head…Conclusion: someone broke in here and murdered him. Only explanation of all the facts"
The Detective was shocked. "But the gun: why ..."
"He was waiting for the killer. He'd been threatened" Lex interrupted him, putting the pieces together.
Sherlock left them and walked away, only to start putting on his scarf, coat and gloves. The Detective was confused and looked at the duo for answers.
"Today at the bank. Sort of a warning" John informed him but also sort of concluded himself.
"He fired a shot when his attacker came in" Sherlock added.
"And the bullet?"
"Went through the open window"
"Oh, come on! What are the chances of that?!"
Lex held the need to laugh at the frustration of the young detective. It was obvious that he had little experience on the field and was brand new on how Sherlock worked. When he said something, it was true even though it could sound like the most unlikely thing in the world.
"Wait until you get the ballistics report. The bullet in his brain wasn't fired from his gun. I guarantee it" the genius man told him.
"But if his door was locked from the inside, how did the killer get in?"
SHERLOCK dramatically slammed his hand into his glove. "Good! You're finally asking the right questions"
He then turned and flounced out. Lex gave a salute to the young Detective and followed suit while John stayed behind. He pointed apologetically towards the departing drama queen before following.
In one very expensive restaurant, none other than Sebastian was having lunch with some clients and work colleagues. He was laughing, entailing a story; unaware of what was about to happen.
"... and he's left trying to sort of cut his hair with a fork, which of course can never be done!"
Suddenly, Sherlock, Lex and John walked over to his table. The High functional Sociopath being first and ready to show what he had found. "It was a threat. That's what the graffiti meant"
"I'm kind of in a meeting. Can you make an appointment with my secretary?" Sebastian said, glancing awkwardly at his guests who were listening quietly.
"I don't think this can wait. Sorry, Sebastian. One of your traders – someone who worked in your office – was killed"
"What?"
"Van Coon"
"The police are at his flat" Lex added right after John, shocking everyone but mostly him.
"Killed?"
Sherlock smirked faintly, enjoying the reaction. "Sorry to interfere with everyone's digestion. Still wanna make an appointment? Would, maybe, nine o'clock at Scotland Yard suit?"
Sebastian put down his glass of water and nervously ran his finger inside his shirt collar.
Since the details could not be discussed publicly, they all decided to go to the most isolated place at that moment, which was none other than the toilets. Thankfully, for Lex, the restaurant had only common ones and not classified by gender; not that she would let something like that stop her.
She leaned on the wall next to the door, one leg supporting her weight and hands in front of her chest. Sherlock and John were not too far away while Sebastian was busy washing his hands while bringing out the skeletons from his closet.
"Harrow; Oxford. Very bright guy. Worked in Asia for a while, so ..."
"…you gave him the Hong Kong accounts" John continued for him, at last catching up with everyone.
Sebastian gave a node and started to dry his hands on a towel. "Lost five mill in a single morning; made it all back a week later. Nerves of steel, Eddie had"
"Who'd wanna kill him?"
"We all make enemies"
Lex scoffed. "You don't all end up with a bullet through your temple"
Suddenly, Sebastian's phone beeped a text alert. "Not usually. Scuse me" He got out his phone and looked at the message. "It's my Chairman. The police have been on to him. Apparently, they're telling him it was a suicide"
"Of course they did" she muttered, not surprised that the detective had decided to play it solo.
Honestly, he was no better than Donovan. She wondered if there was anyone else except Lestrade that swallowed their ego and worked for the common good. So far, her answer to that was no.
"Well, they've got it wrong, Sebastian. He was murdered" Sherlock said.
"Well, I'm afraid they don't see it like that"
"Seb"
"... and neither does my boss. I hired you to do a job. Don't get side-tracked"
He walked away and Lex glared daggers at him until he had left the rooms. She then kicked herself off the wall and walked towards the boys. She was pissed, that was certain and his tone with Sherlock was not helping the situation either.
"I thought bankers were all supposed to be heartless bastards(!)" John commented, also getting tired of everything.
John smiled as he entered the block of flats. He had just returned from an interview about a job at the surgery and the woman who he had met was very nice. He found himself smiling more at the small conversation they had which was not fully around his CV and qualification.
"John!" someone called him when he was about to close to the door and caused him to stop. He turned around and was surprised to see Lex jogging towards him.
She reached him in record time and pulled the earphones out. "Thank you" she said as she walked in and killed the music.
"Its nothing" the man said, and she noticed his silly smile.
"Guess that interview went better than expected?" she teased and smirked in victory once she spotted the faint blush on his cheeks.
She chuckled and walked up the stairs, him following suit. She went to her flat to change while John entered the flat, he shared with Sherlock. He came to a stop once he noticed the newest additions.
Sherlock had printed out the photographs of the graffiti near and across Sir William's portrait and had stuck them around the mirror above the fireplace. He was sitting on one of the dining chairs with his back to the dining table. He had his fingers steepled under his chin and was staring at the photos while various symbols in different languages flash in front of his mind's eye.
"I said, 'Could you pass me a pen?'" Sherlock said while keeping his back turned on the man.
John looked around the living room as if expecting that Sherlock was talking to someone else. "What? When?"
"'Bout an hour ago"
He left out a sigh and picked up the pen from the table. "Didn't notice I'd gone out, then" he then tossed the pen towards his direction without even looking. The sociopath lifted his left hand and caught it without looking away from the photographs. John joined his side. "Yeah, I went to see about a job at that surgery"
"How was it?"
"It's great. She's great"
"Who?"
"The job"
"She?"
"... It"
Sherlock looks at him suspiciously for a moment but then focused on the matter on hand. The door to their apartment was opened and then closed as Lex, dressed in her normal attire, made their way towards the two men. "Just in time. You two, here, have a look"
She lifted an eyebrow and watched along with John, walking over to the table and looking at the web page on the open computer. The lead article on the 'Online News' page is headlined, "Ghostly killer leaves a mystery for police." Next to it is a photograph of the bald man.
Lex read the article out loud. "An intruder who can walk through walls murdered a man in his London apartment last night. Brian Lukis, 41, a freelance journalist from Earl's Court was found shot in his fourth floor flat but all his doors and windows were locked and there were no apparent signs of a break in. A police spokesman said they are still uncertain how the assailant broke in..."
John looked at Sherlock. "The 'intruder who can walk through walls.'"
"Happened last night. Journalist shot dead in his flat; doors locked; windows bolted from the inside – exactly the same as Van Coon" he explained.
The short man quickly straightened up and looked at his flat mate. "God. You think ..."
"He's killed another one"
