The Silent Banker
The Silence of the Museum
As they walked around the museum room, that they had been informed was where she usually worked, they took in the room, Sherlock looking at the little details, John at the thin young man and Rose at the art work that the room held. She did like art, though she would usually just draw.
"When was the last time that you saw her?" Questioned Sherlock, voice still a little rough, but almost normal.
"Um, three days ago, here at the museum." The young man answered. He seemed very nervous, so Rose gave him an encouraging smile. "This morning they told me she had resigned, just like that. Left her work unfinished…"
"What was the last thing she did?" The detective asked, moving on. "On her final afternoon."
"I'll show you." The worker replied.
He took them down into the basement of the building, and into a large room, odd bits of art work dotted here and there on one side, and on the other side, a long row of large lockers, complete with rotating handle on the sides.
The man walked over to one, opening it.
"She does this demonstration for the tourists," He explained, turning the handle. "A tea ceremony. So she would have packed up her things, and just put them in here." The door opened and they were about to go in, when Sherlock hummed in contemplation and walked further into the room. He came to a halt in front of a white marble statue, upon which was yellow spray paint in the form of the cipher.
A few minutes later, the three of them were walking out of the museum, and down the steps. While they had been inside, night had fallen, leaving the pavements illuminated in artificial orange light from the street lamps.
"We have to get to Soo Lin Yao." Said Sherlock.
"If she's still alive." Replied John, causing Rose to frown at the idea of finding another dead person.
"Sherlock!" Came a sudden shout, making the three flatmates look up as a young man, about Johns height, melted into their vision through the black of the night.
As he came to a stop in front of them, noting the appearance of a new man, Raz looked up giving the woman a cheeky smile. She saw it and replied with her own. It was just their way
"Got something you'll like." He said.
"I bet you have." She replied, not ashamed of the open flirting she was doing in front of the two older men.
Raz gave a chuckle, and jogged past them, knowing they would follow him. As he passed them, Sherlock went to follow him, but John took the second to raise his eyebrows at the young woman. Didn't think she had it in her, her thought. She simply raised an eyebrow of her own, and went to follow the madman and the artist.
They came to what looked like a car park, but it full of graffiti, and had a few people in there. Some where on bikes, others had skates on, and one or two had a skate board tucked under their arms. Rose smiled at the familiarity of such a scene.
Sherlock noticed, as they walked through the colourful building, that as John got a little more uncomfortable and more rigid in his movements, Rose did the opposite. She became more relaxed, and he couldn't help thinking that this was once a scene she would often visit, possibly with friends or her brothers. She really is not a lady, he thought.
"If you want to hide a tree, where better than a forest." Declared Sherlock. "People would just walk past, not knowing, unable to decipher the message."
Raz pointed to a far off wall as they approached it. "There. Spotted it earlier."
"And that's the exact same paint?" Asked Sherlock, looking excited.
Rose didn't know how Raz would be able to tell from just a picture, but then he isn't an expert for nothing.
"Yeah." The young man confirmed.
Sherlock looked to his companions. "If we are going to decipher this code, then we are going to need to look for more evidence."
They nodded, and decided to split up and take a look around the outside of the building. Raz gave them a smirk - and Rose a wink - and left them to their work.
Sherlock took out his torch and looked around. He saw many things but what caught his eye was a. empty spray can on the train tracks. Going over the object, he picked it up carefully with a gloved hand. Exactly the same colour. He lifted it to his nose and smelled the zinc in the paint. Thank you, Raz.
Rose looked up and down the tracks a little, and found Sherlock, kneeling over the tracks she had been inspecting, and made her way over to him.
"Empty can of paint." He told her, looking up.
"Nice one." She congratulated.
"Come on." Was the reply she got, and they walked away from the tracks, going past a wall with lots of posters stuck on it.
Sherlock came to a halt, looked at a poster and ripped the corner off of one. She gave him a questioning look, but he ignored her and carried on. She looked back to the poster and saw it was advertising a Chinese Circus act, for one night only. She frowned and looked back at the retreating figure of Sherlock Holmes, wondering what he was up to.
They made their way back to the tracks just as John came round the corner of a building, and called out to them. "Answer your phones will you, I've been calling!" He said, a little out of breath. "I've found it."
They jogged back to where John as seen it, eager to get there. However, on arrival they only found a blank, black wall.
John frowned. "It's been painted over!" He ran his finger over the wall while Sherlock looked around for any signs of people, and pulled his finger away dry. "I don't understand, it was right here! Not ten minutes ago!"
"Someone didn't want me to see it…" Explained Sherlock.
What happened next was very confusing to Rose. Sherlock turned on John, grabbing his friends head with both hands.
"Sherlock, what-"
"Shush, John!" Sherlock demanded. "I need you to concentrate. I need you to remember. Close your eyes."
Rose's eyebrows shot up as John's voice went a little higher, obviously not trusting the insane detective. "What? Why? What are you doing?"
Sherlock let go of John's head, moving his gloved hands to grip the mans arms instead, seeing that it was only putting the doctor off his important task. But then he started to spin them in circles, much to the woman's amusement.
"I need you to maximise your visual memory." Sherlock explained, as though it were a life or death situation. "Try to picture what you saw." They were still spinning. "Can you do that? Can you picture it?"
"Yeah…" Said John, still wondering why they were spinning.
"Can you remember it?" In Sherlock's mind it was a completely different question to ask, and it showed on his face.
"Yes." Said John.
"You remember the pattern?" Sherlock didn't believe him though, John could tell.
"Yes!"
"How much of it? How much can you remember it?" Sherlock had gone crazy, she deduced. They were still spinning.
"Look, don't worry-"
"Because the average human memory, on visual matters, is only 62% accurate!"
"Well don't worry, because I remember all of it!"
The mad man raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yes! Well, I would if I could get to my pockets!" He broke free of Sherlock's grasp and dug out his phone. "I took a photograph."
Sherlock tried his best to push down the embarrassment he felt, but obviously he didn't get all of it because Rose took one look at his face and burst out laughing. He threw her a glare, but she only laughed harder. So he decided that instead of arguing with the impossible woman, he would just ignore her.
He took Johns phone, and looked at the picture. It showed the wall, which was brick red, covered in yellow graffiti.
"Hmm, back to the flat. I need to think." He said.
"I'll make tea." Rose said, still grinning from ear to ear.