Hello Detective

The Blind Banker Part 2

The cab ride was fairly silent. I stared out the window, admiring the London view which I wasn't quite familiar with yet. We arrived at the address that Sherlock gave the cabbie.

Sherlock rang the apartment bell for Van Coon and received no answer. He stared at it for a moment before pressing the button again.

"Just moved in, floor above it, new label." I told Sherlock, as he pressed the button.

"Hello?" a woman's voice replied.

"Hi, um, I live in the flat just below you. I don't think we've met." Sherlock lied, using a voice that was more friendly and higher than his usual husky one.

"No. Well, er, I've just moved in." she replied again.

"Actually, I've just locked my keys in my flat." Sherlock acted.

"Do you want me to buzz you in?" She asked.

"Yeah. And can we use your balcony?" Sherlock added, but the woman had already buzzed us in. I knew exactly what Sherlock was planning, and I didn't like it one bit. Heights were not my thing.

The two of us got to the woman's balcony and I made the mistake of looking down. I gulped nervously and my grip on the railing tightened. Sherlock looked at me and squinted.

"I never pegged you as someone afraid of heights." Sherlock commented.

"There's a lot you don't know about me." I retorted.

"I doubt that." Sherlock said as he jumped down from the woman's balcony to the Van Coons. Sherlock waved me down, instructing me to do the same.

"Christ, the things I do for you." I muttered as I climbed over the railing. I jumped and before I hit the floor I felt two large hands engulf my waist, easing my fall.

"See that wasn't so bad." Sherlock teased.

"Shut up." I said, breaking free of his grip. He smirked as I tried the door, discovering that it was left unlocked. I entered the flat with Sherlock by my side. He immediately began scanning the place, I did the same.

The flat was modern and sleek. Everything was white, black, or grey. There wasn't much clutter except for a few books on the coffee table.

We made our way around the flat, it looked pretty normal. Except for the fact that the refrigerator was only full of champagne, bachelor pad. We both stood in front of the double doors leading to the bedroom. They seemed to be locked from the inside. Sherlock busted through the door with his shoulder, catching me off guard.

"Jesus." I muttered a my eyes scanned the room. It looked like the rest of the flat, except for one small detail. The dead body lying on the bed with a bullet in his head. The gun laid carelessly across the bed.

I immediately called the police. A team was there within minutes. To Sherlock's and my dissatisfaction Lestrade appeared to be on vacation as well. We both put on gloves and began combing the flat. Even though the crime scene looked cut and dry, we were both sure it wasn't a suicide.

"Been away three days judging by the laundry. Look at the case, there was something tightly packed inside it." Sherlock said.

"Thanks I'll take your word for it." I retorted.

"Problem?" Sherlock asked, slightly surprised at my response.

"Yeah, I'm not desperate to root around some guy's dirty underwear." I answered.

"Those symbols at the bank, the graffiti, why were they put there?" Sherlock said to himself.

"Well, it's some sort of code." I added.