"All right, seriously, wh-"
"We're being followed. Well, I'm being followed, anyway, there were two people inside watching me and now they're gone. I don't know what that means but you have to stay close, all right, did you notice anything on your way here?"
"N-"
"Of course you didn't," he hissed furiously, pacing in wild circles. We were in an alley out the side entrance of the International. Sherlock had taken off his disguise. I had never seen him this agitated. "They would be careful, wouldn't they, but how did they know we would be here?"
"Maybe they didn't," I said. "I heard something about this man Adair used to play with, apparently he was the only one who could hold his own against him. I'm not sure if that's relevant, but it's all I got."
"Name."
"Sebastian."
He came to a dead halt. "Full name, John, there's a lot of Sebastians," he said slowly.
"No one knows."
"You don't think-"
"Moran? Possibly. Oh, of course it is. Of course it is! How could I have been such an idiot? The man tracks me all over the world and I think he's going to have trouble finding me in London?"
"So now what?"
"You have to-go to Sarah's, now. And-pretend you never knew I was alive, if anyone asks. Not-not that anyone will."
"They'll come after me, you mean?"
"Most probably."
"Then I have to stay."
He looked up from pacing with a momentary gleam of hope in his eyes that felt like twisting the knife. "Why?"
"They don't care about me, they want you. Even if they do try to use me against you it's probably better if we can keep an eye on each other."
He looked away, the gleam extinguished. "Right. It's…only logical. Of course."
"Yes."
There was an awkward silence, broken by a rustle of movement. We whirled around.
It was Monika, the not-Swede, blocking the alleyway.
"Oh, hello, John," she said, blinking slowly, all trace of an accent gone. "The club closed half an hour ago."
"Oh. We should probably get going, then."
She smiled easily, those bright blue eyes glittering mischievously in the streetlights. "Now, I'm not going to ask what, exactly, you two were doing down a dark alley this late at night, alone, but-"
We opened our mouths simultaneously to protest, but she held up a hand for silence.
"No, no need to deny it. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about, John…and, I presume, Mr. Sherlock Holmes."
There was an almost inaudible intake of breath from behind me. I stepped in front of him. "I don't who you're working for, but if you so much as touch him-"
She laughed. It wasn't a happy sound. "Aw, that's adorable. I can see why you like him," she said, nodding at Sherlock. "But that's just the thing…John…Watson. If you want to come out of this alive, stay away from him. You seem like an intelligent man. Do the smart thing." She winked indulgently and sauntered away.
I was left staring after her, mouth half open. Sherlock started to leave.
"Looks like Sarah has competition," he said, not looking back.
"Oh, shut up," I replied, but, despite the jab, I was smiling.