Off Limits - S.H.

The Blind Banker - Part 6

DI Dimmock is standing at a desk in Scotland Yard, rummaging through a box of Brian Lukis' possessions.

"Your friend..." Dimmock began.

"Listen: whatever you say, I'm behind you one hundred per cent," John said, standing on the other side of the desk.

"...he's an arrogant sod."

"Well, that was mild." The doctor chuckled. "People say a lot worse than that."

"And, um, Y/N..." John's jaw clenched subconsciously, prepared to defend his sister as Dimmock spoke "Is she single?"

"Oh." He breathed a sigh of relief as the inspector pulled a diary out of the box. "Yeah, she is."

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" He handed it to John. "The journalist's diary?"

John smiled gratefully, flicking through the diary, opening at a page that had been bookmarked with a boarding pass to Dalian Zhoushuizi International Airport from London Heathrow Airport.

•••

Sherlock and Y/N stand beside Amanda, Van Coons personal assistant, as she pulled up an online calendar.

"Flew back from Dalian Friday. Looks like he had back-to-back meetings with the sales team."

"Could you print a copy for us?" Y/N asked Amanda, smiling gratefully as she agreed.

"What about the day he died?" Sherlock interjected. "Can you tell me where he was?"

"Sorry, bit of a gap." Amanda looked back at the screen. Sherlock's jaw ticked as he sighed, glancing at Y/N before the P.A. spoke up, drawing his attention. "I have all his receipts."

Amanda excused herself, disappearing around the corner. Sherlock pinched the bridge of his nose as he began pacing.

"Why can't I figure this out?" He exclaimed frustratedly, slamming his hands down on the table, causing Y/N to jump slightly. "I can't think!"

"Sherlock," Y/N called out as he began pacing again. "Sherlock!" She placed her hands on his shoulders forcing him to stop and face her. "Look at me."

The simple sound of her voice was enough to calm Sherlock down, his breathing evening out.

"We will solve this," Y/N whispered softly as stepped closer, gazing into his eyes. "I believe in you."

"I wouldn't have made it this far without you." Sherlock wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug as he mumbled into her ear. "Thank you, Y/N."

The clicking of heels getting louder caused them to pull apart as Amanda returned with Van Coons receipts, spreading them out on her desk.

"What kind of boss was he, Amanda? Appreciative?" Y/N asked the woman as Sherlock kneeled on the floor by the desk.

"Um, no, that's not a word I'd use." Amanda chuckled nervously. "The only things Eddie appreciated had a big price tag."

"Like that hand cream," Sherlock said, referring to the luxury bottle on her desk as he removed his gloves, stuffing them into his pocket. "He bought that for you, didn't he?"

Amanda looked at the detective in surprise, fiddling with a pin in her hair. Y/N went and stood behind Sherlock, scanning over the pile of paper as he began shuffling through them.

"Look at this one." Sherlock handed a taxi receipt, dated the day he died, to Amanda, who looked over it briefly before handing it to Y/N. "Got a taxi from home on the day he died. Eighteen pounds fifty."