We get to the flat with speed. Once arriving, we quickly start analyzing the area. I spot a small black flower on the floor as Sherlock looks out the window.

"Four floors up. That's why they think they're safe," Sherlock states, turning back to look at me.

"Put a chain across the door, bolt it shut. Think themselves impregnable," I add.

"They never think for a second there's another way in."

"I don't understand," Dimmock says as Sherlock and I head for the door.

"Of course you wouldn't," I whisper to myself.

"I heard that," he says offensively.

"I know," I answer with a smile.

"We're dealing with a killer who can climb," Sherlock answers, heading over to a window.

"What are you doing?" Dimmock asks Sherlock tries to open the window.

"Clings to the walls like an insect," he says as the latch pops. "That's how he got in."

"I don't follow."

"He climbed up the side of the walls, along the roof, and dropped in through this skylight," I explain, putting my hands in my pockets.

"You can't be serious, like Spider Man?"

"He scaled six floors of a Docklands apartment building, jumped the balcony and killed Van Coon," Sherlock adds, looking at Dimmock like he's an imbecile.

"And that's how he got into the bank. He'd run along the ledge and onto the terrace," I finish. Sherlock steps down from the window and glances around for a minute.

"I have to find out what connects these two men."

"Maybe it's something they own, like a book or something," I offer, making him smile a little.

"Maybe." He goes down the steps to reach for a book, finding the library's name on the inside cover. "Good place to start."


"Date stamped on the book is the same as when he died," Sherlock observes out loud once we reach a promising shelf in the library. "Look around, would you?'

"Start snooping, got it." I turn to a different shelf, and pull out a few books. I notice a flash of yellow in the back of the shelf, Dead man. "Sherlock," I say to grab his attention, pointing at it. He looks at it for a few moments before snapping a picture and placing the books in their right places. "Now what?"

"I don't know," comes Sherlock's honest answer. He thinks for a moment before heading towards the door.


"So, the killer goes to the bank, leaves a threatening cipher. Van Coon panics, returns to his apartment, locks himself in, hours later he dies," Sherlock deduces, looking at the photos taped to the mirror.

"The killer finds Lukis in the library, he writes the cipher on the shelf where they know it'll be seen. Lukis goes home, later that night he dies too," I add, looking at the pictures, then over to Sherlock in thought. "Why did they die?" I whisper.

"Only the cipher can tell us," he answers. "Come on," he says, grabbing his coat off his armchair. "I've got someone I need to meet."

"Sherlock, we just got home."

"Yes, and now we're leaving again."

"I don't get paid enough for this," I sigh to myself, following him quickly out the door.


"The world's run on codes and ciphers, Jane," Sherlock tells me once we're outside a museum. "From a million pound security system at the bank to the pin machine you took exception to. Cryptography inhabits our every waking moment."

"Yes, but-" I start.

"But it's all computer generated," he continues. "Electronic codes, electronic ciphering methods."

"This is different. This is an ancient device. Modern code-breaking methods won't unravel it."

"Exactly."

"So where are we headed?"

"I need some advice."

"What?"

"You heard me perfectly."

"You? Sherlock Holmes, needs advice?"

"On painting. I need to talk to an expert."

"So that's why we're heading towards the back of the museum and not into it, your 'expert' is a graffiti artist."

"I didn't say what type of painting, Jane."

"Yeah, but-" I start as we round the corner, spotting someone spray painting the side of the building.

"Part of my new exhibition," the artist says as we get closer to him. "I call it- Urban Bloodlust Frenzy."

"Interesting. Very catchy," I comment.

"I've got two minutes before a Community Support Officer comes walking around that corner. Can we do this while I'm working?" He turns to Sherlock momentarily before returning to his work. Sherlock holds his phone out to him as he turns around again. He tosses his spray can carelessly in my direction, and I catch it with ease.

"Know the author?"

"Recognize the paint. Looks like Michigan hardcore propellant, I'd say zinc."

"Do you recognize the symbols?" I ask.

"Not even sure that it's a proper language."

"Two men have been murdered, Raz. Deciphering this is the key to finding the killer," Sherlock tells him in a hushed tone.

"This is all you've got to go on? It's not much, innit?"

"Will you help or not?" I ask quickly, making him shut up momentarily in thought.

"I'll ask around," he finally says.

"Someone must know something about it," Sherlock states, taking his phone back from Raz.

"OI!" A voice shouts from the end of the alley. I turn my head quickly and start running, not ready to face the cops like this again. Without turning around, I can hear Sherlock's heavy steps and Raz's lighter ones behind me as we make our getaway.