Chapter 15

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John was out for a job interview, leaving Elsa and Sherlock alone together. He had briefly explained the writing they had found on the wall at the bank to her, but mostly, Sherlock sat and stared at the wall in front of him.

"I said, 'Could you pass me a pen?'" Sherlock asked as John returned into the flat.

"What? When?"

"'Bout an hour ago."

John sighed, "Didn't notice I'd gone out, then." He tossed a pen to Sherlock. "Yeah, I went to see about a job at that surgery."

"How was it?"

"It's great. She's great."

"Who?"

"The job,"

"'She?'"

"...It"

"Wait, 'she'?" Elsa interrupted, a bit late. "John?"

"I'll tell you later,"

"Here, have a look," Sherlock casted the attention back to himself.

"Hmm...? The intruder who can walk through walls."

"Happened last night. Journalist shot dead in his flat; doors locked, windows bolted from the inside."

John straightened. "God. You think..."

"He's killed another one."

"Excuse me, killed another one?" Elsa asked innocently.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Yes, killed another one. He already killed Van Coon." She stared at him blankly. "A banker."

"And now he's killed a writer?"

"You aren't as lost as I thought you would be..."

"Stop doubting me,"

"Well," he continued, not hearing Elsa. "They were killed in the same way. The first one had some sort of message, so this new one must have one as well."

"And you're going to go investigate. But you don't want me to come along."

"She's a genius, John." Sherlock said sarcastically.

Elsa sighed and leaned back. "You two go have fun, I'll be here, doing nothing." She picked up her book as they walked out of the flat once more.

~

Sherlock had added more photographs, now from the newest crime scene. The three of them stared at the pictures, trying to find some sort of connection between the two scenes.

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

"Idiot," Elsa whispered.

Sherlock glared at her but continued, "Hours later, he dies."

"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 added.

"Late that night, he dies too...?" She finished the thought. "Why did they die?"

"Only the cipher can tell us," Sherlock replied.

"Are you going to take me this time?"

"Hmm?"

"Well, you're obviously thinking about getting help."

"Fine, you may come along..."

"Yay! Thank you!" Elsa grabbed her coat that was conveniently laid on the chair, and dragged John and Sherlock outside.

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