We took a cab to the client's house. Her name was Angela Gerard. We spoke not one word for the first ten minutes but after several attempts to break the ice that had formed after his new discovery, he finally spoke.
"The cat, John, the cat. Did you have a look at the file?" I looked at him in an annoyed manner. Of course I hadn't, he had studied it unceasingly.
"It's a Khao Manee!" he exclaimed and sighed when my only response was a
"Hmm?"
"A Khao Manee...my God, what do they teach you in the Army."
"I don't think that cat breeds were high up on the list of things we needed to know in order to survive in Afghanistan." I tried explain but he turned from me.
"A Khao Manee is a very rare breed of cat. It has one silver and one golden eye. Their name translates to "White Jewel" due to their white fur. They were bred in Thailand for around 650 years and spread to other countries in the 60s..."
"So...what, Mrs Gerard has an expensive cat...?" I asked carefully.
"YES! Yes, but more expensive than she thinks-" before he could finish, we arrived at Mrs Gerard's house. We got out and looked at her house. On her lawn were several porcelain and metal garden ornaments in the form of a cat. It was clear she was consumed with felines. We made our way across the lawn taking care to avoid the "cats". It took only one knock on the door and we were let in.
"Ahh Mrs Gerard. I need a minute to examine your...humble abode." Sherlock pushed past her and immediately steered towards the kitchen. He looked around, as if searching for something and then disappeared.
"The cat food has always been outside, I take it." he called back.
"Y-yes how did you-" Mrs Gerard's expression changed to show confusion.
"Fairly straightforward: there are trails of cat food on the patio and...the wood panelling just opposite the door is worn from extensive use, so someone's been outside a lot."
"Excuse him," I muttered, "he likes to pry."
"Don't apologise for me, John. I am capable of conversing with other human beings." Sherlock was by the window, looking out. The cat food had been taken in after the disappearance of a seemingly large amount of it.
"May I?" Sherlock picked up the bag as if to sniff it.
"Of course!" she said so he did.
"Interesting...John!" I looked up.
"Come here, tell me what you smell." I obeyed and smelled the cat food. Nothing.
"I can't smell anything."
"Exactly. No iron, no alkali, no acid, no sugar, no salt...it's like baby food; it doesn't really affect the digestive tract...Is your Khao Manee a healthy cat?"
"Yes, she is a very healthy cat and we didn't buy the food here, they sent it to us as a gif-" she tried to say but Sherlock interrupted.
"Of course! The cat food came with the cat. Ooooh this is such a perfect case, don't you think?" he looked at me expectantly.
"Yes-no...what?" I frowned at him.
"The cat food came with the cat! Now think, why would a cat breeder insist on providing you with cat food?"
"He's trying to ensure that the cat eats something specific." I paused.
"Or doesn't eat something." Sherlock added "What could be damaged by normal cat food? Or, I'll make it easier for you: what could be damaging in normal cat food?"
"I don't have a clue, I've never owned a cat." I said apologetically.
"Luckily for you," he looked at me "I've had a Burmese. This cat is from Thailand is it not?" he looked at Mrs Gerard. She nodded reluctantly.
"You had a cat-" I attempted to say.
"Yes, yes. What you need to know is that the pH of most cat foods is around 5.5 so that is relatively low. What is so valuable you'd want to protect it with anything you've got?" his eyes searched me.
"I don't know, Sherlock!" I raised my voice unintentionally. Mrs Gerard flinched and chose to leave the room at that moment.
"Come on, John, you're a doctor. What do people hide in their digestive tract so no one will know?" he asked calmly. I wracked my brain for an answer...what, what, what. Oh!
"Drugs." I answered and Sherlock smiled appreciatively.
"Now you've got it." he said.
"So the breeder was smuggling drugs in cats and he gave the buyers cat food that would not affect the drug bundles in any way until they were back in the real "buyer's" hands."
"The person that requested the drugs." Sherlock corrected me and nodded. He picked up the cat food to put it back where it had stood and when he set it down, something scratched the floor. He immediately picked it up again and examined the base.
"Ohhhh. Clever, clever, clever." he chuckled.
"What?" I asked curiously now.
"A tracker. This is how they knew where the cats would be." he explained and straightened himself.
"So what do we do now?" I asked cautiously.
"We wait." he put the cat food outside and sat down on the couch.
"You're not saying we're going to wait for the drug dealer to steal more cat food?" I shuddered at the thought.
"Of course we are. You're a soldier. You'll manage." he grinned and I sighed, sitting down next to Sherlock.
"Fine." I said and Sherlock turned to me "So now the game is afoot."
"Believe me, John, the game already is afoot." he winked and sank back into the couch, watching the sky lose its colour...