The Highest Bidder
"I think I've found them." John skipped the pleasantries as Sherlock answered his phone. When Sherlock had dropped him off after their visit to the Buckley's manor, he had given him one job; scour internet auctions for the stolen goods, as it was the most likely place for the thieves to cash in on their ill-gotten gains.
"Send me the link." Sherlock asked, holding the phone with his shoulder as he paused the wedding video and opened his emails, just in time to see John's arrive. The link took him to eBay, to a shop containing what looked to be all the stolen items, as well as a few others; no doubt from a previous scoop. Sherlock checked them thoroughly against the pictures the Earl had given him.
"That's them alright. Rookie mistake, selling them all under the same username like that. Well done, John."
"So, what now? Do you want me to report it?" John asked "There's a button here-"
"Do not click that button, John." Sherlock instructed. "If they know we're onto them they'll just withdraw the items from the sale. Maybe make a new account to sell from, maybe sell it elsewhere entirely. Either way, we lose them."
"I don't think eBay would let them – "
"And how can a faceless website stop them? Really, John. They can suspend the account, but not a lot more. The criminals themselves could be using fake names, and have their listed address as a P.O box, they would be untraceable via the website."
"Okay, then how are we going to…. Wait, did you just bidon them?" John asked incredulously, seeing a newest high bid on all of the Buckley's items.
"It's the easiest way to get them back, don't you think, John. The auction ends in 26 hours, I've set my maximum bid high enough, I don't imagine I'll be outbid." Sherlock told him confidently.
"But… that's a lot of money, Sherlock." John pointed out, quickly adding up the bids on all the items in his head.
"And yet, barely a fraction of what those little trinkets are worth." Sherlock told him "I suppose getting the full value isn't the thieves concern, they just want as much as they can get for them. Don't worry about the money, we can report the items once we have them. If there is one thing an internet investigation can achieve, it's getting your money back. Besides, the Earl did promise a handsome reward for the return of the jewels. Not that it matters much to me."
"Obviously not, if you have that much money to throw around." John muttered. "Anything else you need me to do?"
"Make sure someone is home to accept the jewellery when it's delivered, it'll probably need to be signed for. My address is far too recognisable to have them delivered here." Sherlock instructed. "I haven't finished checking through the video for the thieves yet, but I will let you know when I find them, if I need to."
"You'd better. You know the rules." Was John's parting remark. Of course, rule 2; no running off alone on cases. Molly had made sure John knew the rules too, so he could ensure that Sherlock stuck to them.
Sherlock reopened the video file, continuing his evaluation of the guests at the wedding. After about 5 minutes Molly came up behind him, her hair still slightly damp from a shower brushing his cheek as she rested her chin on his shoulder and her arms encircled his body.
"Any progress? I heard you talking." She asked softly, her eyes also following the movements of the screen.
"John called. He's found the jewellery. I just need to find the thief." He replied with a hint of frustration at himself for not having spotted them already. Molly picked up on his tone easily.
"You will. I know you will." She reassured him. She had just started heading for the sofa, and her book on the arm of it, when she heard his excited gasp, and turned back with a smile.
"Oh that is brilliant." Sherlock muttered to himself. "Molly, Molly listen to this." He went back a little and replayed the part he had just watched, as she came back over.
"I'm getting… people talking? And the band warming up." She said, perplexed at what he expected her to hear.
"No, not just warming up, though I suspect that's what they expect people to think. Usually when bands warm up, they play scales, arpeggios, little pieces of songs coming up in the set. What she just played was none of the above. Musically speaking it made no sense, not in key or tune, just a random mash of notes." Sherlock explained.
"Maybe that's all it was." Molly suggested.
"No! Look at her face, she's concentrating on it. It's deliberate. But no musician would deliberately compose a piece of music that bad. Unless…" Sherlock trailed off, his eyes wide with his discovery.
"Unless what?" Molly prompted.
"When is a piece of music not a piece of music? When it's a cypher."
AN: I'd forgotten how much quicker I write when fueled by reviews. Took me months to stock up on a few chapters so I would be ahead when I started posting, but now I'm knocking them out at a fair pace. So thank-you very my review team, my inspiration, you are far better than any caffeine-infused concoction I could drink. :D