"That doesn't answer my question. Where are we going." John asked frustrated.
"Think about it John." Was the only reply.
John sat against the seat and frowned in thought as he looked out of the window. it was quiet in the car as the two detectives were distracted by their own thoughts. They almost seemed to be having a silent discussion through minuscule movements of fingers, twitching of eyes, and even blinks. It was five minutes later when John turned to the two.
"If you texted the murderer, what did you say?" John asked. A small grin spread over Jezebel's lips.
"Now you're asking the right questions." Jezebel said as she broke eye contact with Sherlock to pull out her phone and hand it to John who then flipped through the text's.
"So we are going to this address?" John asked.
"Now was that so difficult?" She asked with a smirk.
"Yes." Sherlock stated. It was silent for a heartbeat before Jezebel let out a small laugh and John frowned. Time passed as it does and John opened his mouth to ask another question. Unfortunately for his curiosity and comprehension they pulled up to the curb then. Instantly the two detectives left the car and strode into a small diner, leaving John to pay the cabbie as always. Once John got inside the diner he was gestured to a small table in the corner that gave a perfect view of the street. The owner, who Sherlock had helped, brought out tea and set it on the table. Silently Jezebel looked at the tea in disgust, it was only her first day in London and she was sick of tea. Quietly she took her cup and sipped at the hot liquid, she was pleased to find it wasn't the sweet and milky substance that she had been ingesting all afternoon but rather a bitter black tea. Happily she sipped at the drink and thought that maybe drinking tea like this wouldn't be too bad.
As these thoughts went through Jezebel's head John sweetened his tea to his tastes and also prepared Sherlock's cup before they settled in, there wasn't much to do as they waited and none of the group were big on small talk. Honestly it wasn't a long wait before Sherlock noticed the cab that was stopped in front of the address and Jezebel noticed it a second later. Both of them were quickly out of their seats and John swore before following. The cab quickly took off and Jezebel and Sherlock both looked at each other.
"Right turn…" Jezebel started
"One way…" Sherlock said
"Roadwork…" Jezebel pointed out
"Traffic light…" Sherlock again
"Bus lane…" The pattern repeated
"Pedestrian crossing…"
"Left turn only…"
"Traffic lights." Sherlock finished. With the route figured out Sherlock and Jezebel looked around before Sherlock noticed man unlocking a door. Immediately he started running in that direction, Jezebel a half second behind him and John bringing up the rear. Once at the door Sherlock grabed the poor man and threw him out of the way. The two detectives ran in without pause and John apologized as they sprinted in. They all raced up the stairs and out onto a metal spiral fire escape leading to the roof. Sherlock took the steps two or three at a time, Jezebel took them one at a time but kept pace easily with Sherlock, and John struggled to keep up with the two detectives as he scurried up behind them.
"Come on, John." Sherlock commented as they rushed upwards. At the top of the stairs Sherlock rushed to the edge and looked over before spotting a shorter metal staircase leading down the side of the building to another door. Jezebel spotted it as well and the two of them darted down the stairs, climbed onto the railing, before they both leaped across the gap to the roof of the next building. John raced after them but skidded to a halt as he judged the size of the gap.
"Come on, John. We're losing him!" Sherlock called. John looked at the gap again and decided that if Jezebel could do it so could he. He backed up a few paces before taking a run-up and leaping the gap. Landing on a walkway along the side of the building the group continued on. The taxi continued it journey on the ground and the group galloped down another metal staircase. They run to a ledge, drop down into an alleyway, and continue running. Sherlock and Jezebel take turns leading, almost like the two are racing each other as well as the taxi. They all turn a corner and race down the last part of the alley, only to spot the taxi drive past the end and head towards the left.
"No!" Jezebel huffed and without breaking stride both Sherlock and Jezebel turned to the right.
"This way," Sherlock said and John turned left in pursuit of the taxi.
"No, this way!" The two detectives called and John did an about face.
"Sorry," the doctor said as he began to follow them again. They all run down street, taking a shorter route than the taxi which was being diverted by various road signs. More alleys and side streets finally has them intercepting the cab. Jezebel threw herself in front of the cab and it screeched to a halt. Sherlock grabbed an I.D badge from his left pocket and flashed it at the driver as he ran to the right hand side of the cab before yanking the door open. The passenger looked up at him anxiously and Jezebel shoved Sherlock aside to look at the passenger herself.
"No," Sherlock panted. Jezebel leaned down to get a closer look at the passenger.
"Teeth, tan: what - Californian?" She asked and Sherlock leaned over the small detective to look at the suitcase.
"L.A., Santa Monica. Just arrived." Sherlock straightened up and grimaced as Jezebel frowned.
"How can you possibly know that?" John panted from behind them. Sherlock moved to the side as Jezebel paced away from the cab. As she looked around she caught the cabbies reflection in the mirror. A strange expression was on his face and Jezebel watched him curiously as Sherlock explained to John, let the doctor take a look, and dismissed the passenger. The door of the cab slammed shut and the cabbie finally looked away as the black vehicle began to move away. Jezebel blinked a few times as the frown deepened on her face. Sherlock was already walking away and Jezebel began to follow absent-mindedly.
"Basically just a cab that happened to slow down," John asked as he followed Sherlock.
"Basically," Jezebel answered.
"Wrong country, good alibi," John asserted as they all came to a halt in a small circle.
"As they go," Sherlock stated as he switched the I.D card from one hand to another.
"Hey, where did you get this," John asked as he reached out and took the I.D card from Sherlock's hand. Looking over the card he noticed the name. "Detective Inspector Lestrade?"
"Yeah. I pick-pocket him when he's annoying. You can keep that, I have plenty at the flat," Sherlock answered and Jezebel let out a snort of amusement. Soon John was chuckling softly as well.
"What?" Sherlock asked, almost put-out he didn't know what was amusing.
"Nothing, just: "Welcome to London," John replied and Jezebel started giggling again as John continued to chuckle and even Sherlock began laughing quietly. Then John noticed the passenger talking to an actual cop and pointing in their direction.
"Got your breath back?" Sherlock asked and Jezebel grinned, a smile breaking over John's face as well.
"Ready when you are," The army doctor replied and they quickly sprinted back the way they came heading back towards 221B. Once at the flat Jezebel was the last to begin to remove her coat and shoes when John realized he had left his wallet at the small restaurant. Jezebel shrugged her coat back on and waved off John's offer to just call Angelo.
"No, the air could do me good," she said before turning and heading back out of the flat. She didn't get very far down the street before a phone in a nearby restaurant began to ring as she passed. Jezebel looked at it briefly but otherwise ignored it as she walked on. She passed by another business and the same thing happened. Curious she walked towards a phone booth and sure enough the phone began to ring. She quickly grabbed the ringing phone.
"Who is this?" She immediately asks. The person on the other end ignored her question.
"There is a security camera on the building to your left." It was a man's voice, he was likely mid thirties, white male, has mild arthritis in his right knee by the sound of the chair shifting beneath him. Jezebel turned to look at the camera and watched as it swiveled to point the opposite direction. The man went to speak but Jezebel beat him to it as she turned towards the next camera, it turned away as well. This pattern repeated until all of the cameras were facing away from her.
"What do you want?" she asked the man on the other end.
"Get into the car Ms. Blithe," the voice replied before hanging up. As Jezebel hung up the phone a sleek black car pulled up to the curb. Jezebel looked around quickly before her curiosity got the best of her and she climbed into the car. It was a lavish vehicle, the seats were leather and there was a ridiculous amount of space for the passengers in the back. Sitting next to her on the leather seat was another woman who was quickly typing on a blackberry. Pausing for just a moment she decided that playing ignorant wouldn't do her any good at the moment so she settled into the seat and smirked at the other woman.
"Am I allowed to know where we're going?" Jezebel asked. The woman paused in her typing long enough to look at Jezebel and smile.
"No," came the reply. Jezebel felt herself roll her eyes. It was so typical.
"Your name?" Jezebel asked.
"Anethea." Jezebel nearly rolled her eyes again.
"That's not your name."
"No."
"Your employer picked it out?"
"Yep." Anthea popped the p sound and then silence fell upon the car.
"Your employer, a friend of Sherlock's?" Jezebel inquired casually. Anthea shrugged.
"You could say that."
"Enemies?"
"Somewhat."
"Ah, siblings." Jezebel concluded and Anethea shot her a grin before the rest of the ride was spent in companionable silence. When the car finally stopped Jezebel shot Anthea one last smile before stepping out of the rather luxurious car and towards the circle of light she could see coming from the middle of some crates. Of course it was an abandoned warehouse, the whole thing was just so typical, Jezebel thought to herself as she stepped into the light and looked at the man there.
"You know, I have a phone." She said pulling the device from her pocket and showing it to him before tucking it away again in the pocket of her coat. She paced around the edge of the light and looked at the crates. "This is all well, good, and clever, very clever, but you could have just phoned." She said as she moved to stand in front of the man and noted the chair. "Why don't you take a seat, your arthritis must be bothering you, you've been on your leg for hours now." She said with a smirk and watched the man's smile broaden.
"When one is avoiding the attention of a Sherlock Holmes one learns to be discreet. Hence this place." The man replied, ignoring her order to sit in favor of looking around smugly. "You don't seem very afraid." He commented turning back to Jezebel.
"You don't seem frightening, please sit that leg really must be bothering you."
"Perhaps I don't want to sit."
"Then perhaps you're being foolish." Jezebel snapped lightly as she resumed her pacing around the circle. The man watched her before glaring at her petite form and moving over to the chair gracefully lowering himself before ending up merely plopping into the seat. Jezebel smirked in response and moved to stand in front of him.
"What is your relationship to Sherlock Holmes." The man asked her, Jezebel grinned.
"What's yours?"
"That's beside the point, we're talking about your relationship with him."
"Why do you care?"
"Who said I care." The man huffed. Jezebel paused in her pacing and grinned.
"Obviously you care, you are his brother. Must be such a dreadful thing trying to keep track of him." Jezebel commented offhandedly. The man shot her an annoyed look.
"Which is what I'm trying to do here, now what is your relationship to Sherlock Holmes." The man ground out, quite fed up with her at this point. She was almost as bad as Sherlock. Jezebel moved close to the chair and looked down at him from her position, it was a slight height advantage but just enough to give the man a slight tremor and make him lean away slightly.
"Whatever I need it to be." She replied quietly, her voice soft but sharp as a knife. Then she abruptly turned and went back to her pacing, the man flinched at the sudden action before standing in order to regain some semblance of control. Clearing his throat the man caught Jezebel's attention.
"I hear you've recently moved in to two-hundred twenty one baker street. I'd like to offer you a substantial amount of money to help ease your move." He said confidently as Jezebel dropped into the chair he had so recently vacated.
"You want me to spy on him."
"That's a rather crude way of putting it. But yes, I want information about what he his doing."
"You can't do that with the bugs you have all over that flat?"
"Sherlock continues to take them down."
"Have you ever considered thats a clue to bugger off?"
The man gave Jezebel a flat look which she returned with a sarcastic grin.
"Perhaps I'm worried."
"You do care."
"Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side." He hissed irritated from between his teeth.
"Bonds keep the world together, where would we be without the bond between two oxygen molecules." Jezebel said easily as she stood gracefully and held out her hand. "The money."
"You'll do as I ask?"
"Of course, must help the concerned big brother, right?" She asked giving him a grin as she saw the barely there relaxing of his features as the worry faded away. A nice stack of bills was placed in her hand and Jezebel smirked before leaving. "Oh, and next time, pick a better revenue." With that she was gone heading back to the car where Anthea was waiting behind the driver's seat this time. Instead of taking the back as she was obviously supposed to, Jezebel opened the door to the passenger side and plopped herself in the seat there. Wordlessly Anthea handing her a small black bag which contained the wallet that John had left at the restaurant. "You're not going to text the whole way while driving are you? I'm fairly certain that's illegal," Jezebel teased and Anthea flashed her another smile. The rest of the journey was spent in silence aside from the soft indie music playing through the sound system. Upon arriving at Baker street Jezebel got out of the car and headed up to the door, silently picking the lock and slipping inside. Mrs. Hudson still needed to have her key made.
Once upstairs in 221B she looked around at the scene in front of her. John was in his armrest, a forgotten cup of tea by his side as he watched some rubbish soap opera. Sherlock was on the couch, three nicotine patches on his arm as he puzzled over the case, his hands folded neatly over his lips and his eyes closed. Jezebel pulled the wallet from the bag and tossed it to John, who startled so badly he nearly fell out of the chair before pulling out half of the cash she had gotten from the man earlier and dropping it on Sherlock's chest with a light thump.
"Compliments of your brother," she said distractedly as she moved his feet to sit down.
"He ask you to spy on me," came the deep reply from Sherlock.
"Yes."
"You accepted." John interceded looking almost offended. Jezebel grinned as Sherlock sat up.
"Of course, not accepting would have been stupid." She replied.
"You're brilliant, almost as brilliant as me." Sherlock said, a certain degree of happiness in his voice. Jezebel grinned.
"No, you're just getting close to me. Figured out who our murderer is yet?" She taunted, Sherlock looked at her confused. "I figured it out on the way home from visiting your brother. Who do we trust that we don't know?" She asked Sherlock and moved to sit on the table in front of him. "Come on genius think, what do most people use everyday? Something we wouldn't think twice about seeing?" She paused, watching as the gears turned in Sherlock's head before he jumped up excitedly.
"We need to call Lestrade."