Sherlock - The Game Is On!

The Blind Banker- Four

Chapter Four

Practitioner Surgery, Sarah's room - Day

Third POV

John sits across the table from Sarah, practice manager. She's pretty, intelligent, about his age. From between them one could notice a mutual attraction. She was reading his CV. "Just locum work."

"No. That's fine." Scratching her head with the end of a pencil she responded: "You're a bit well, over-qualified."

"Could always do with the money."

"We've got two off on holiday this week and another one just left to have a baby. It might be a bit... Mundane for you."

"Mundane is good, sometimes. Mundane works." Sarah smiles and reads more of John's CV. "Says here that you're a solider."

"And a Doctor."

"Anything else you can do?"

"I learnt the clarinet in school." John responded. They shared a moment, flirting. "Look forward to it..."

I finished sticking on the wall printed pictures of the graffiti, the wall above the main sofa. Sherlock was sprawled against his taken armchair, staring over at the pictures. He looked like he was in a trance or as I learned previously, his mind palace! A slam of the door, John comes through looking pink and cheerful. "I said could you pass me a pen?"

"What? When?"

"About an hour ago." Sherlock stated, flatly. "Michelle's been here within that time you could of asked her, or you know, get off your behind and do it yourself!"

"How did it go at the surgery then? John?"

"Great. She's great." This peeked Sherlock's and I's brief interest. "Who?"

"The job." John said looking at the fireplace. "'She?'"

"It." Springing up from his chair, Sherlock points to the laptop showing John 'Timeline' news. "'The intruder who can walk through walls.'" He quotes. "Happened last night. Journalist shot dead in his apartment. Door locked. Windows bolted from the inside. Exactly the same as Van Coon."

"God you think...?"

"No John, we never think we know, he's killed another one." Grabbing my coat, I rushed out the flat to hail a taxi to the station. "I have a theory." I stated in the cab. "A theory?"

"Yes, what if this intruder can climb? It makes this case look better if so, don't you think? Clinging like a insect, to terrace walls?" Paying the driver we went in...

We saw Dimmock at his tiny desk. I find the 'Timeline' webpage and give the phone to Sherlock, proceeding to go over. "Brian Lukis. Journalist. Freelance. Murdered in his flat. The door locked from the inside."

"You've got to admit it's similar, if not the same. Both men killed by someone who can walk through walls." John spoke. Dimmock looks around and notices a few other officers smirking. "Inspector? If your worthy of being called that, do you seriously believe that Eddie Van Coon was just another city suicide?" Dimmock didn't respond. "I presume you've checked the ballistics report." Dimmock nodded. "And? The shot that killed him wasn't from his own gun." Sherlock counteracted. "No." Dimmock responded. I slapped my hands on his desk. "No. So. This investigation might move a little quicker if you took Mr Holmes's word as gospel and mine serving that I too, work here."

Dimmock looks to me in disgust. "What? You think a women qualified with a PHD in Forensics isn't fit enough for the job? Don't see you looking at dipshit over there." I point towards Donovan. "Like that and I have better aspirations than her. Keep that act up and I could dislocate your jaw bone on a good day... Maybe rip it clean off on a bad one." Dimmock visibly gulped. John held me back slightly, Sherlock then moves along to demand five minutes in the flat.

We walked into Brian Lukis's flat. "Do you always have to make death threats, Michelle?" John asked me. "Maybe I wouldn't have to make 'death threats' as you adequately put it if people use their heads and stop looking at me as if I'm the weirdo amongst them. Besides I just thought it would speed up the whole process." He tsked at me. "Sure Michelle, but for the umpteenth time you have to calm down. Ever thought of anger management?" John asked. Sherlock blanked the conversation. "Fourth floor. That's why they think they're safe. Put a chain on the door, bolt it shut. They think they're impregnable." I tried the windows but then noticed the skylight, I nudged Sherlock and pointed up. "They never consider for a moment, there's another way in here." I stated.

"I don't understand." John was showing the normal to the investigation. "You should have that on a T-shirt." I murmured to myself. Sherlock balanced a chair on top of the table, climbing the structure. Broom in hand. "Michelle's right, we're dealing with a killer who can climb."

"What?!"

"He can cling to walls like an insect. That's how he gets in." He then nudges the skylight. It opens. "He climbed up the side of the building, ran across the roof and dropped in through the skylight."

"You're not serious?" I spit-fired my thoughts from Van Coons flat: "Scaled a sixth floor balcony on Docklands to kill Van Coon. Of course it was the same process for the bank..."

"Hold on..." Sherlock then proceeded to carry on. "Across the window ledge and on to the terrace. We have to find out what connects these two men." Jumping down from the chair and table, he thumbs through a few books on the desk. I noticed a black origami lotus squished up on the floor. As if someone trod on it. We follow Sherlock to West Kensington Library.

Walking through isles of books Sherlock starts to speak. "Lukis was working here. The date stamped in this book is the same day he died."

"Sherlock. Michelle." We walk over to John who has a stack of books beside him, pointing at the back of the rack. Sprawled across it was two massive graffiti symbols written in bright yellow aerosol. Same was shown from the bank. A horizontal line and a sprawled tag...

Back at Baker Street, Sherlock was staring at the new founded pictures comparing them to the older ones. "So, the killer goes to the bank leaves the threatening cipher for Van Coon. Van Coon panics, goes back to his flat and locks himself inside. Just hours later... He dies." John then follows his thought process: "The killer finds Lukis at the library, he writes the cipher on the book rack where the guy will see it. Lukis goes home..."

"And that night he dies too." I finished. We all stand side by side looking at the wall. "Why did they die, Sherlock?"

"Only the cipher can tell us."