Sherlock grimaced as he stared at the passing Japanese landscape through the limousine's tinted glass. At 9 AM, the streets of Osaka bustled with cars, buses, and bicycles, and no matter how much he regretted coming to Japan, he could do nothing about it now.
He stifled a yawn.
"You must be exhausted from the flight, Mr. Holmes. Our driver will take us to our hotel so we can rest before our work begins," Satomi said, a smile perched on her lips.
Sherlock slowly turned his head to look at her before dropping his gaze to her bare legs. His mouth frowned. The woman obviously had an infinity for short skirts. And the way her hand rested suggestively on her knee, her chest thrust out, hips and knees turned towards him...
Sherlock rolled his eyes before looking back out the window again. "You're a beautiful woman and an influential one judging by your position with the media company," he said. "You must have every man craving a bite of you. But I suggest you do yourself a favor and stop acting like a common whore. I'm not interested."
Satomi's eyes widened, and her mouth gaped open. "T-that was not my intention."
"Yes, it was."
Satomi quickly repositioned her legs forward and tried to regain her composure as she pulled her briefcase onto her lap. She took a deep breath. "When we get to the hotel, we must plan how we will surround Charlie Magnussen so she can't escape. We may not have another chance to stop her."
"Surround her?" Sherlock scoffed. "You make it sound like she's a fugitive." His eyes still fixed out the window. "Where's the letter?"
"It's ahhh...." Satomi opened the briefcase and pulled out the envelope, handing it to Sherlock.
His gaze skimmed over Harriet Watson's sprawling handwriting: C Magnum; The Tsutenkaku Tower, 1-18-6 Ebisuhigashi, Naniwa-Ku, Osaka. His lips pursed thoughtfully.
"You can open it if you like," Satomi said.
"Now, why would I open a private correspondence?" Sherlock looked at her, his eyes narrowing. "Is a private correspondence not meant to be... private?"
Satomi licked her lips nervously. "We read the contents to help us find her."
"And how many did you read? Two? Three letters?"
When Satomi didn't answer, Sherlock nodded. "All of them. Of course, you've read them all. Your company and MI6 want this girl far too much to simply be protecting her."
Satomi shook her head. "President Taoka wants to save her from—"
"Oh, I know what he said."
"Then you know the importance of finding her before Shiro does."
"Yes, and if she refuses to be caught, will that be sufficient for you?"
"I don't understand. We have come here for a purpose."
Sherlock gave her a tight smile. There was more to her purpose, much more than she was letting on. But whatever it was, it wasn't his concern. His conversation with Mycroft after their meeting with President Taoka made him regret even taking the assignment. He was more like a babysitter chasing a bothersome child than a detective. He almost told Mycroft where to stuff it.
"You know whose daughter she is, Sherlock," Mycroft had said. "And we suspect she's as devious. We want you to convince her to work for us so we can keep tabs on her. We have reason to believe she was one of Magnussen's protégées and that's just for starters. Surely you remember the last time you underestimated him. Don't underestimate his daughter too."
The bile rose in Sherlock's throat. He'd find Charlie Magnussen, hand her over to MI6 and the media hounds, and get back home to Baker Street and his comfy chair. And John... John would get an earful for not coming with him to Japan.
Sherlock's gaze fell on Satomi's open briefcase. "You have a blank envelope in there, don't you?"
Satomi nodded and pulled a white envelope from the upper sleeve of the briefcase.
"Excellent!" Sherlock exclaimed as he took her briefcase onto his lap and shut the lid. And before Satomi could object, he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a pen. He laid the envelopes side by side on the top of the briefcase and began copying the address information from Harriet Watson's envelope to the blank one, careful to capture the nuances of her handwriting as best he could.
When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he opened Satomi's briefcase and rifled through the folders.
"Mr. Holmes, that is private information!" Satomi huffed as she grabbed hold of the briefcase.
"Really? You mean as private as Harriet Watson's letters?"
Satomi hesitated. "What do you intend to do with her letter?"
Sherlock's eyes dropped to the inside of the case. He had managed to ruffle the neatly stacked folders, but now all he saw were pages and pages of typed Japanese characters he didn't understand. Until his eyes landed on the corner of a photo peeking out from under the paperwork.
He reached in and pulled out the headshot photo of a woman. Blonde hair reached just past her shoulders, high cheekbones, and full-generous lips formed a curved half-smile, and Sherlock swore he could see a twinkle in her eyes as she posed for the camera. But there was something that disturbed him about the photo even more than her cheeky smile.
He could see Charles Magnussen in her eyes. Green eyes. But they weren't lifeless vessels as Magnussen's eyes had been. No, hers held a glint of irreverence and maybe even... laughter? And they were the greenest eyes he had ever seen.
Sherlock swallowed, his fingers tightening on the edge of the photo. A moment in time sprang back to his mind, a moment he wished he could forget: a vision of Magnussen looming over him as he lay helpless in a hospital bed. But he had won that battle. He had killed Magnussen. So why was he incapable of killing the despicable memory of him too? And now, seeing his daughter staring back at him.... a flash of anger made Sherlock fingers tighten on the edge of the briefcase.
"You have just met Charlie," Satomi said. "That is the picture from her security badge. She was supposed to be serious, but she refused. She insists on making ridiculous faces whenever someone tries to take her picture."
"Does she?"
"Yes, that is her photo after the fifth try. The photographer gave up after that."
"It looks like she's holding a secret."
Satomi grimaced. "More like she is about to tell a joke."
Sherlock glanced at Satomi, and before she could say another word, he slipped the picture of Charlie and Harriet's letter into the inner pocket of his coat. But he didn't let go of the briefcase. Instead, he studied Satomi's face.
"Why don't you pull the case away from me?" he asked, the challenge ripe in his voice. "It's what you want to do, but you're too afraid, aren't you?"
Satomi's lips quivered, and she dropped her eyes to stare at his hands on the briefcase. Sherlock sighed out his boredom. He let go, and she put the case back onto her lap and stared straight ahead.
"Give me back the photo and letter unless you tell me why you're taking them," she said. "I only need to make one phone call to...."
"I've never met Miss Magnussen, so I need a photo to remind me of what she looks like. I have a terrible memory for faces." He drummed his fingers impatiently on his knee, his eyes setting out the window. "And if you're going to catch vermin, you never use the expensive cheese. Why would I give her Harriet's letter?"
Satomi rubbed her forehead and nodded. "Once we arrive at the hotel...."
"Driver," Sherlock called.
The driver looked up at him through the rearview mirror.
"Take us to Tsutenkaku Tower. There's no time like the present to set a trap for a rat."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Thank you for reading! You've gotten this far and I'm blessed by that.
What do you think? I'd love to hear all your thoughts.
Take care, my friends. A new chapter is coming soon! x0x