Nobody Knows My Heart Like You

Chinatown

Back at 221, Sherlock, John, and Danielle stared at the wall above the fireplace. Sherlock had added new pictures to go with the new evidence. Danielle's eyes darted to the various pictures, trying to make note of any pattern.

"So, the killer goes to the bank, leaves a threatening cipher for Van Coon; Van Coon panics, returns to his apartment, locks himself in. Hours later, he dies." Sherlock reported.

"The killer finds Lukis at the library; he writes the cipher on the shelf where he knows it'll be seen; Lukis goes home." John reported.

"Where he's killed by the same man." Danielle finished. "Or woman. But it's the same person either way. Which I guess means we just don't know why they're being killed."

"Why did they die, Sherlock?" John sighed.

Sherlock ran his finger along one of the cipher's. "Only the cipher can tell us." He tapped the picture for a moment. If only it was one of the talking paintings in Hogwarts, then they're be a chance to figure it out.

Danielle glanced at Sherlock, then the picture he was staring at for a disquieting time. "...and what's it telling you?"

Sherlock answered with a small smug smile.

==NKMHLY==

Now they were walking in Trafalgar Square. Normally, Danielle couldn't make the hour's walk to the fountain for Erika, especially not with Regent's Park that much closer. Still it was a nice place, though with the multitude of tourists around it looked a lot less enticing.

"The world's run on codes and ciphers, John. From the million-pound security system at the bank, to the PIN machine you took exception to-" Danielle giggled at the reminder of that. Oh, what a lovely story that had been to hear. "-cryptography inhabits our every waking moment."

"Yes, okay, but-" John tried to speak.

"...but it's all computer-generated: electronic codes, electronic ciphering methods. This is different. It's an ancient device. Modern code-breaking methods won't unravel it." Sherlock rattled off.

"Where are we headed?" John asked, getting to the point.

"I need to ask some advice."

Danielle reeled back, shocked. She had to rush in order to get back the pace.

Lucky John was just as thrown for a loop. "What?! Sorry?!"

Sherlock gave them both a stern look. In honesty it only made Danielle giggle. "You heard me perfectly. I'm not saying it again."

"You need advice?" Danielle repeated, smiling wide at his admission.

"On painting, yes. I need to talk to an expert." Sherlock explained. He guided his two friends towards the National Gallery.

==NKMHLY==

More specifically to the back alley behind the National Gallery.

A young man stood there, spray painting the wall. Sherlock walked up the man. So of course John and Danielle had to follow.

"Part of a new exhibition." The man boasted.

"Interesting." Sherlock replied dryly. Clearly caring about it as he cared for small talk or people being so obvious about their lies.

"I call it Urban Bloodlust Frenzy." The young man stated.

Danielle observed the painting. She knew little about art- wasn't her strong suit. But Felix and Lilly Kelly knew loads, so she had picked up a handful of taste. "I like...actually that's a good job on the nose."