Emma picked up the phone and looked down at her orange uniform before putting the black plastic to her ear. "Jail isn't that fun." She looked at the figure on the other side of the glass, wondering when the figure would pick up the phone. She gestured to the phone on the other side of the glass, but the figure did not move.
"There is no point to come talk to me if you aren't even listening. I could be telling you nuclear launch codes or how to break into the worlds greatest brain in London--" She gasped when the figure picked up the phone. "You have to put the phone up to your ear." She gestured to where her phone was. "Otherwise there still isn't a point."
The figure looked around at the other people talking to inmates and put the phone to their ear.
"Talk to me. I'm bored." Even though she said many sentences, the figure would not reply. "Fine." She shrugged her shoulders. "I'll figure things out on my own.
Clothes. Never been worn before, as there are no strings, and as it does not sag. His hat still has a price tag. There are also fold lines on his clothes; the shoulders, the stomach, and near the knees.
Face. Can not see it. That seems interesting.
Hands. Big and hairy, the figure must be a male.
Build. The clothes are too big, so might be hiding something. Muscles. Knives. Guns. Good thing the glass in between us is bullet proof. He must know that if he knew where to find me.
Phone. Picked it up when I mentioned Sherlock, meaning he was intrigued, and understanding me without Hearing my voice. Hearing device? Ability to read lips? Deaf?
Hands. Left hand holding the phone, right hand is clenched. What is he hiding?
"Tell me something, is Sherlock a vital interest." His left hand moved slightly. "How vital? Life or death?" His right hand clenched tighter. "Who's threatening you?" Nothing. "Are you threatening yourself?" Tighter. "Who sent you? Who's watching? Is there someone watching?" As she moved her eyes around the room, he threw his right hand up against the glass. Immediately afterwards, the guards came and took him away. No, only one guard. Not a lot of pressure on his arm as he was being taken away. Wad of cash in his pocket. No, not cash, blueprints.
"Well, Miss, are you done?" The Guard moved towards Emma and waited for her call.
"Get me that note on the other side of the glass. Don't look at it."
"Miss, I can't do that-"
"Don't. Look."
He walked around to the other side to pick up the note. Without looking at what it said, he looked around and dropped it into a pocket in her uniform.
She put the phone back on the hook. "And who was that officer? The one that took the man away when he got violent?"
He shrugged. "Never seen him before in my life."