Sophia Holmes and the Scandal in Belgravia *Completed*

Chapter Thirty One - The Scandal in Belgravia Part XII

"I'm going down to the lab." I wake with a start and look up at dad's figure in the doorway. "You coming?" I yawn loudly and stretch - I didn't get to bed until three this morning and judging by the winter light coming through the window, it's only 7.20 now.

"I'll catch you up," I say through another yawn. "I'm going to grab a coffee." Dad nods and leaves while I lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Did he even go bed last night?

Reluctatly, I roll out of bed a few minutes later and dress.

About an hour later I arrive at Barts having left John behind to do some shopping.

"Sophie!"

"Good morning, Molly," I reply as she catches up.

"I've just made this for Sherlock," she hands me a polysterine cup of coffee. "Did you want anything?"

"Chocolate please, no milk." She nods and returns to the cafeteria while I continue upstairs to the lab.

"You made it then?" Dad asks with a grin as I walk through the door and I give him a glare.

"You realise the average teenage body doesn't function properly until ten and requires at least nine hours of sleep," I tell him, putting his cup beside him and craning my neck over his shoulder to see what he was doing. "I didn't get to bed until three."

"But the key word there is average which you certainly aren't." It's my turn to grin.

"I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment."

Molly comes back in and we return to work. I look at the picture on the screen and recognise it immediately as an X-ray of a phone: mum's phone judging by the size and the...

"Is that-?"

"Detenation devices. Yes," Dad replies, exasperated. There goes my idea of breaking into the hardware.

"Is that a phone?" Molly asks, coming up behind us after putting down my hot chocolate.

"It's a camera phone," Dad corrects.

"And you're X-raying it?"

"Yes, we are."

"Whose phone is it?"

"A woman's."

"Your girlfriend?" I blanch.

"You think she's my girlfriend because I'm X-raying her possessions?" Dad replies quickly, feigning confusion.

Molly laughs nervously. "Well, we all do silly things."

"Yes," Dad says before raising his head in inspirsation and looks round at Molly. "They do, don't they? Very silly." She gives me a confused look but my brain begins to spin as Dad takes the phone out the X-ray machine and holds it up.

"She sent this to our address," I say, reaching the same conclusion as Dad.

"And she loves to play games," he adds.

"She does?" Molly asks and I give her a sympathetic look as Dad brings up the lock screen and types 221B into the phone but looks exasperated and sits down again when it bleeps the warning that we have two attempts left.

"What happened?"

"It's locked us out," I tell her as Dad begins to stare at it. I look at him for a minute before having an idea. "Would you give us a minute?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll be in the morgue if you need me." I nod in acknowledgement and wait until the door shuts.

"I don't know what to do," Dad admits. "Two tries and then -" he gestures with his hands, "kaboom. All gone. Good news is the case is closed, the photos are gone; bad news is we'll never know what else was on there."

"I've got an idea," I tell him, taking the phone from in front of him and slipping it into my coat. "I'll see you later."

"Don't open it," he reminds me. "We need to know what else is on there."

"I know," I nod. "Won't be long."

My destination is only nine minutes drive away, but I fancy some fresh air and exercise so I decide to walk.

I've decided I don't like these types of cases - the ones lasting several months. Nothing exciting has happened for a while so the sooner this one is solved, the better.

Twenty minutes later, I walk into Coutts bank and spot one of the staff talking to a client. He spots me and wraps up the conversation, shaking his client's hand in farewell as I approach him.

"I wonder if I would be able to take out a safety deposit box here for some of my belongings," I say and he nods.

"Of course, ma'am. This way, please." I follow him into a lift and wait as we travel down to safes below the ground floor.

He leads me through a maze of corridors until we reach a guarded door.

"See Miss Holmes and I aren't disturbed," the banker instructs and the guard nods, allowing us entry. The door closes behind us and I turn to face the banker.

"I see you're doing pretty well for yourself, Clint," I say, smiling.

"All thanks to you and your dad." He returns the smile. "Now they actually pay me to go through peoples' belongings and handle money!" I laugh, but return to being serious.

"Security cameras?"

"None in here," he says, also adopting the change in attitude. "Five stationed at various points along the corridor outside, but our clients tend to prefer privacy." I nod in approval and the phone from my pocket.

"Are you able to copy this?" I ask and he takes it carefully, turning it over in his hand to take in the full specifications.

"Easily," he replies. "You still at Baker Street?" I nod and he returns it before explaining his plan. "I get off at five. At seven you'll get a delivery for a Chinese: the original will be in the cotainer labeled 'rice', the copy in the 'noodles'." Clint slips the phone into his pocket and grins. "Great to see you again, Pip." I smile fondly at the old nickname but punch his arm anyway.

"You too, Clint," I reply before heading back through the corridors and outside.