Charlie Magnussen wasn't your ordinary, run-of-the-mill daughter of a notorious billionaire. She was special. Like her father, her memory was as acute and unfailing as the many languages she spoke.
Unlike her father, however, Charlie was on the run...
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Sherlock grimaced as he stared at the passing Japanese landscape through the limousine's tinted glass. At 9 AM, the streets of Osaka bustled with cars, buses, and bicycles, and no matter how much he regretted coming to Japan, he could do nothing about it now.
He stifled a yawn.
"You must be exhausted from the flight, Mr. Holmes. Our driver will take us to our hotel so we can rest before our work begins," Satomi said, a smile perched on her lips.
Sherlock slowly turned his head to look at her before dropping his gaze to her bare legs. His mouth frowned. The woman obviously had an infinity for short skirts. And the way her hand rested suggestively on her knee, her chest thrust out, hips and knees turned towards him...
Sherlock rolled his eyes before looking back out the window again. "You're a beautiful woman and an influential one judging by your position with the media company," he said. "You must have every man craving a bite of you. But I suggest you do yourself a favor and stop acting like a common whore. I'm not interested."
Satomi's eyes widened, and her mouth gaped open. "T-that was not my intention."
"Yes, it was."
Satomi quickly repositioned her legs forward and tried to regain her composure as she pulled her briefcase onto her lap. She took a deep breath. "When we get to the hotel, we must plan how we will surround Charlie Magnussen so she can't escape. We may not have another chance to stop her."
"Surround her?" Sherlock scoffed. "You make it sound like she's a fugitive." His eyes still fixed out the window. "Where's the letter?"
"It's ahhh...." Satomi opened the briefcase and pulled out the envelope, handing it to Sherlock.
His gaze skimmed over Harriet Watson's sprawling handwriting: C Magnum; The Tsutenkaku Tower, 1-18-6 Ebisuhigashi, Naniwa-Ku, Osaka. His lips pursed thoughtfully.
"You can open it if you like," Satomi said.
"Now, why would I open a private correspondence?" Sherlock looked at her, his eyes narrowing. "Is a private correspondence not meant to be... private?"
Satomi licked her lips nervously. "We read the contents to help us find her."
"And how many did you read? Two? Three letters?"
When Satomi didn't answer, Sherlock nodded. "All of them. Of course, you've read them all. Your company and MI6 want this girl far too much to simply be protecting her."
Satomi shook her head. "President Taoka wants to save her from—"
"Oh, I know what he said."
"Then you know the importance of finding her before Shiro does."
"Yes, and if she refuses to be caught, will that be sufficient for you?"
"I don't understand. We have come here for a purpose."
