Hello Detective

A Scandal in Belgravia Part 7

"It's not working." Irene said, confused.

"No, because it's a duplicate which I had made into which you've just entered the numbers 1058." Sherlock said, taking the phone out of her hand. "I assumed you'd chose something more specific than that but thanks anyway."

Sherlock walked towards me, sticking his hand out for me to take it. I did, confused, and he pulled me effortlessly to my feet. He then stuck his hand under the seat cushion of John's chair and retrieved the real camera phone. He placed a kiss on my cheek as he ushered me back into my chair.

He typed 1058 into the real camera phone but it still said it was incorrect.

"I told you that camera phone was my life. I know when it's in my hand." Irene said.

"Oh, you're rather good." Sherlock complemented her.

"You're not so bad." She returned.

"Hamish." John suddenly said, to fill the awkward silence in the room while Irene and Sherlock were having a stare down. "John Hamish Watson, just if you were looking for baby names."

I laughed as John sat back in his seat.

"There was a man, an MOD official and I knew what he liked. One of the things he liked was showing off. He told me this email was going to save the world. He didn't know it, but I photographed it. He was a bit tied up at the time." Irene said. I shared a look with John. Irene handed the phone to Sherlock so he could read the email.

"It's a bit small on that screen, can you read it?" Irene asked.

"Yes." sherlock answered.

"Code, obviously." Irene said again. "I had one of the best cryptographers in the country take a look at it, though he was mostly upside-down, as I recall. Couldn't figure it out."

I stood from my chair and moved so I was standing next to John at his desk. I placed my hand on it and stared at Sherlock who was now sitting across from me.

"What can you do, Mr. Holmes?" Irene asked.

"There's a margin for error, but I'm pretty sure there's a 747 leaving Heathrow tomorrow at 6:30 in the evening for Baltimore. Apparently it's going to save the world, I'm not sure how that could be true, but give me a moment, I've only been on the case for eight seconds." Sherlock said, everyone staring at him. Was he trying to show off?

"Oh come on, it's not code. These are seat allocations on a passenger jet. Look! There's no letter I because it can be mistaken for a one. No letters past K, the width of the plane is the limit. The numbers always appear randomly and not in sequence, but the letters have little runs of sequence all over the place. Families and couples sitting together. Only a jumbo is wide enough to need a letter K or rows past 55, which is why there's always an upstairs. There's a row 13 which eliminated the more superstitious airlines. Then there's the style of the flight number, 007, that eliminates a few more. And assuming the British point of origin, which would be logical, considering the original source of the information and assuming from the increased pressure on you lately that the crisis is imminent, the only flight that matches all the criteria and departs within the week is the 6:30 to Baltimore tomorrow evening from Heathrow airport." Sherlock said with record speed. He turned and handed the phone back to Irene.

"Please don't feel obliged to tell me that was remarkable or amazing. John's expressed that thought in every possible variant available to the English language." Sherlock said.

"I would have you right here, on this desk, until you begged for mercy twice." Irene said to Sherlock, causing John to nearly choke on his tea.

"John, please could you check those flight schedules to see if I'm right?" Sherlock said.