You're in Sherlock (Sherlock × Reader)

The Blind Banker: Chapter 12

The three of you finally settled in to a nearby restaurant to eat lunch. Well, John ate lunch. You and Sherlock went through the facts you already knew and were trying to figure out anything else that may be new. Something that would carry you further into this case. So far you didn't have much. Both Sherlock and John were sketching on napkins, while you had your eyes closed lightly in thought. Images of the ciphers flashed in your memory, what could these mean to the victims? Yes, the ciphers are numbers, but why were they threats? You weren't sure...

"Two men travel back from China. Both head straight for the Lucky Cat emporium. What did they see?" John asked, placing his pen down to look at Sherlock who had just finished drawing the ciphers onto a napkin. You gripped the side of the table tightly, your eyes flickering across your eyelids.

"It's not what they saw; it's what they both brought back in those suitcases." Sherlock told John, tucking his pen back into his jacket.

"And you don't mean duty free." As John said this, a waitress placed a plate of pasta in front of him. "Thank you." He said as she walked away. He picked up his fork and began digging into his food. You took a deep breath, delving further into your mind.

"Think about what Sebastian told us; about Van Coon – about how he stayed afloat in the market." Sherlock told John, resting his elbows on the table. You sighed, shaking your head as you ruled out another possibility. At least there was one less possibility to deal with.

"Lost five million..." John nodded, remembering what Sebastian had said about Van Coon.

"... made it back in a week." Sherlock finished, a focused look on his face as he stared across the table at John. "That's how he made such easy money."

"He was a smuggler. Mmm." John nodded as he took another bite of pasta. You mentally rolled your eyes as you tried to zone out their conversation, you'd already figured that much out and were onto bigger things. Like what the ciphers meant exactly. One step ahead of the game is where you preferred to stay.

"A guy like him – it would have been perfect. Business man." Sherlock stated, nodding promptly as John tilted his head in agreement. "... making frequent trips to Asia. And Lukis was the same... a journalist writing about China. Both of them smuggled stuff out, and the Lucky Cat was their drop-off." Sherlock finished. You gripped the table tighter, not being able to drown out their conversation for some reason.... You weren't focused enough. You gave in, listening to them as you thought.

"But why did they die? I mean, it doesn't make sense. If they both turn up at the shop and deliver the goods, why would someone threaten them and kill them after the event, after they'd finished the job?" John asked, furrowing his eyebrows. You opened your eyes excitedly looking at him. You liked this question.

"Ohh, fun question! One of them had to have been light-fingered." You told him, crossing one of your legs over the other. It was the most likely scenario you'd come up with.

"How d'you mean?"John asked, looking over to you. You tapped your fingers on the table, looking over to John.

"Well, like, one of them stole something; something from the hoard." You glanced at Sherlock and he nodded in agreement.

"That's got to be it." He commented. You felt that funny feeling in your stomach again, and commanded it away.

"Right, no other reason someone would go after them with the connection of smuggling at the same place." You nodded.

"And the killer doesn't know which of them took it, so he threatens them both. Right." John leaned back in his chair as he looked between you and Sherlock, you were both brilliant. After a moment of silence, John continued to eat his food and you turned to Sherlock.

"Okay, so earlier I looked over every possible warning the ciphers could've meant and I got nothing. I know it's some sort of number code that represents words, but I'm not sure which one... there's billions of possibilities and no way to narrow them down. " You trailed off tapping your finger on your lip.

"Yeah..." Sherlock trailed off, gazing out the window. "Remind me... when was the last time that it rained?" He asked before standing from his chair and racing from the restaurant. John sighed looking at his unfinished food before he threw money down and followed Sherlock. You sat there a moment, before sighing and racing after them. Here we go again.