John lost himself in the sound of Sherlock's violin; there was no doubting the man was a skilful player, and despite Sammy hurriedly throwing in a whole ream of sheet music he was playing from memory.
It sounded perfect, and the music was soothing, peaceful, and as echoes of the last note faded John stood and stretched.
"Lovely." He said softly. "Almost the perfect lullaby, think I'll turn in for the night."
He didn't see Sherlock's heated glance, but he felt the tap of the violin bow against his arm.
"What?"
"Your friend Kallie has just crossed the road." Sherlock wasn't sure why he was whispering, "I'll get the door."
John listened to the younger man's feet tripping lightly down the stairs, Kallie's skirl of surprise when the door was opened before she had even knocked, and her hushed voice chattering excitedly.
"Doc, we think we've found both of them!" Kallie rushed into the flat and grasped John's arm. "Paul's got a picture of a Neville Drury, lives in a posh flat in Maple Quays. Thank God he had such an unusual name."
"Doesn't help, I don't know what he looks like." Sherlock sighed.
"I know, but I found a Matthew Reader in Lavender Hill who might know him." She showed Sherlock a photo on her phone. "Is this your bloke?"