The Blind Banker

(Jared's POV)

London...

I am walking around London with Mikoto Misaka, Shirai Kuroko, Saten Ruiko, and Uiharu Kazari. The five of us decided to walk around the city and eat some ice cream.

"So, you wanted us to hang out with you in the city." Uiharu said, looking at me. "Is there something coming up?"

"Was it really necessary to bring all of us?" Shirai asked.

"For ice cream. Yeah. Unless you want to go back to Academy City." I said, happily.

"I think London was a wonderful idea." Uiharu said, smiling.

"Did the three of us really have to get the same flavor?" Mikoto asked, looking down at her mint chocolate chip ice cream as Shirai and I also got the same flavor.

"Mint chocolate chip is my go to." I said, eating my mint chocolate chip ice cream. "I usually get it as a milkshake."

"That is pretty smart."

"I know, right? Gekota is cute. You know what's cuter?"

"Nothing is cuter than Gekota."

"Of all things. You manage to find someone that likes cute things, sissy." Shirai said, sadly.

"Um, what is Sherlock up to?" Uiharu asked.

"He's getting beat up by someone in robes and with a sword." I said, looking at Uiharu.

"That sounds like trouble." Saten said.

"It is. We don't have to go over there. He can handle it."

"If Jared says Sherlock can, that consultant detective can handle it." Shirai said, frowning.

(Open POV)

SUPERMARKET...

John Watson is standing at one of two self-service checkouts, scanning items from his basket. A short queue has formed behind him. John scans another item.

"Unexpected item in bagging area. Please try again." An automated voice said.

221B BAKER STREET...

In the living room of the flat, Sherlock Holmes is under attack from a heavily robed figure whose face and head are almost completely shrouded in a variety of scarves. As the attacker slashes at him with a curved sword, Sherlock backs up carefully and ducks this way and that to avoid the blows. The man backs Sherlock up as far as the sofa and takes another swing at him. Ducking under the sword, Sherlock drops onto the sofa in a sitting position. The attacker lifts his sword above his head with both hands and Sherlock raises a leg, kicking hard at the man's chest and shoving him backwards. As the man stumbles back across the room, Sherlock gets to his feet and takes an all-important moment to straighten his jacket before charging across the room towards the man.

Supermarket...

John holds a lettuce in a plastic bag and moves it slowly across the scanner in an attempt to get it to read the barcode.

"Item not scanned. Please try again." An automated voice said.

John straightens up, staring at the device in exasperation, "D'you think you could keep your voice down?"

221B Baker Street...

The attacker has his sword held horizontally in both hands and is pushing Sherlock backwards into the kitchen. With a tight grip on the man's wrists, Sherlock falls back onto the kitchen table and the man follows him down, trying to press the edge of the blade into Sherlock's throat. Grimacing with the effort, Sherlock pushes the man's right wrist upwards to keep the blade from cutting him. The point of the sword begins to dig into the table to Sherlock's right. Sherlock raises his left leg and knees the man in the side several times and, as this begins to weaken the man's grip, Sherlock forces himself upwards again. The sword tip gouges a long slash across the top of the table.

Supermarket...

John has at last got everything scanned and has inserted his credit or debit card into the chip-and-PIN machine. He types in his PIN and waits.

"Card not authorised. Please use an alternative method of payment." The automated voice said.

"Yes, all right! I've got it!" John said, annoyed.

"Card not authorised. Please use an alternative method of payment."

The man in the queue behind him has already picked up his own basket in expectation of getting to the scanner soon. John reaches towards his back pocket but apparently realises that he has no other way of paying.

"Got nothing."John said, pointing at the machine. "Right, keep it. Keep that."

As the man behind him looks on in surprise, John angrily walks away, abandoning his shopping and quite possibly his card as well.

221B Baker Street...

Sherlock is on his feet again and the fight has moved back into the living room. The attacker takes another swing at Sherlock who ducks underneath the sword and then quickly straightens up, pointing directly over the man's shoulder.

"Look!" Sherlock said.

The man has already half turned in that direction with the swing of his sword and is also perhaps momentary distracted by their reflections in the mirror over the fireplace behind him. Sherlock takes advantage and swings a powerful uppercut to the man's chin, and the man drops unconscious into Sherlock's armchair. Sherlock straightens up and immediately checks his reflection in the mirror, straightening his jacket and cuffs and then dusting himself down. He looks down at the man with disdain, as if indignant that he messed his suit up.

(Jared's POV)

Some time later, Sherlock is sitting in his armchair calmly reading a book. There is no sign of the attacker. John walks up the stairs and into the living room, stopping just inside the room and looking around as if he suspects that something has happened in his absence, but he can't tell what. I walked up the stairs with Mikoto, Shirai, Saten, and Uiharu.

"You took your time." Sherlock said, not looking up.

"Yeah, I didn't get the shopping." John said.

"What? Why not?" Sherlock asked, looking up indignantly over the top of his book.

"Because I had a row, in the shop, with a chip-and-PIN machine." John said, tetchily.

"You ... you had a row with a machine?" Sherlock asked, lowering his book a little.

"Sort of. It sat there and I shouted abuse. Have you got cash?" John asked.

Sherlock holds back his amused smile and nods towards the kitchen, "Take my card."

John walks towards the kitchen where Sherlock's wallet is lying on the table, but before he gets there he turns back to his flatmate indignantly.

"You could always go yourself, you know. You've been sitting there all morning. You've not even moved since I left." John said.

"John having trouble with a machine." I said, laughing a little. "Like Touma, right?"

"You mean Kamijo?" Mikoto asked, her eyes widening. "Oh. That vending machine."

"That is a moment I could never forget."

"Honestly. You two and that vending machine." Shirai said, as Sherlock tries to look nonchalant as he turns the page of his book while John picks up the wallet from the table and rummages through it for a suitable payment card. "Jared, do you do the same thing as sissy for it?"

"Well, it is effective with that certain vending machine in Academy City." I said, taking out a Coke from the fridge to drink it.

"You're not wrong." Mikoto said, with me tossing her a can of sparkling water. "Oh. Mango."

"So, what happened to the case you were offered? The Jaria Diamond?" Uiharu asked.

"Are you going to take it on with John and Jared?" Saten asked.

"Not interested." Sherlock said, using a piece of paper as a bookmark to shut the book with a loud snap, and only then realizes that the attacker's sword is still lying underneath his chair in plain view.

"But why? Why deny it if that case looked like a good one?" I asked, as Sherlock quickly slams a foot down onto the end and slides his foot and the sword further back to get the weapon out of sight. "What was that?"

"It's nothing." Sherlock said, firmly. "I sent them a message."

John has now found a card he can use, but pauses to bend over to look more closely at the new long narrow gouge in the top of the table. He sighs and runs his finger along the cut, rubbing at it in case it's just a mark that can be removed.

"Ugh, Holmes." John said, in an exasperated whisper.

Looking across to his flatmate, he tuts pointedly. Sherlock shakes his head innocently.

"Mikoto, Shirai, I need some help with this." John said, looking at the two Tokiwadai middle school students.

"Grocery shopping." Shirai said, smiling. "Haven't done it with sissy in a while."

"That is true. Where is that ATM, John?" Mikoto asked.

"It's this way." John said, turning and leaving the room with Mikoto and Shirai, trotting down the stairs as Sherlock smirks.

Later, John carries two shopping bags up the stairs while Shirai teleports in with two of the shopping bags in her hands as Mikoto walks up the stairs with one shopping bag in her hand.

"Don't worry about us. We can manage." John said, sarcastically.

Sherlock, who is now sitting at the dining table with his hands folded in front of his mouth as he looks at a laptop screen, barely glances across to John, who sighs heavily as he carries the two heavy bags into the kitchen and dumps them onto the table. Mikoto and Shirai placed the grocery bags they were carrying onto the table.

"If you two weren't here, he would have carried all the bags." I said, sadly.

"Sherlock would have let John carry all of those bags?" Mikoto asked.

"Why would he do that?" Shirai asked, as Sherlock is engrossed in reading an e-mail from someone called Sebastian Wilkes.

"Um, I think it has to do with this email." Uiharu said, seeing that the full email reveals that Sherlock and Sebastian haven't seen each other for a long time. "Jared, what is this case called?"

"Yeah. What's it called?" Saten asked, as Sebastian has heard that Sherlock is now a consultant – or a consulting detective – and tells him that 'There's been an 'incident' at the bank' which he hopes that Sherlock may be able to sort out. "This case looks rather serious."

"Let's see. We've already done 'A Study in Pink.' Oh. This is 'The Blink Banker'. Great..." I said and I know that the email has Sebastian asking Sherlock to drop by and says that he'll be relying on Sherlock's discretion. "Not a fan of this case. Bit slow for my liking."

John turns around from the kitchen table and frowns when he realises which piece of equipment Sherlock is looking at with Uiharu and Saten, "Is that my computer?"

"Of course." Sherlock said, starting to type.

"What?!" John exclaimed.

"Mine was in the bedroom." Sherlock said.

"Did he just say 'the bedroom'? Not 'my bedroom'?" Mikoto asked, looking at Shirai.

"Sounds familiar, doesn't it, sissy?" Shirai asked, her hand on her hip.

"What, and you couldn't be bothered to get up?" John asked, and Sherlock doesn't reply.

"John, isn't your laptop password protected?" I asked, walking up to John.

"It is!" John said, indignantly.

"In a manner of speaking. Took me less than a minute to guess yours." Sherlock said, still typing before glancing up at John. "Not exactly Fort Knox."

"Right, thank you." John said, annoyed and he walked over to slam the laptop lid down.

"This is a bit above Judgment work then." Uiharu said, while Sherlock pulls his fingers out of the way just in time. "Why did you want us to come, Jared?"

"You and Shirai have to deal with worse things. Don't forget the trouble Mikoto and Saten goes through with you girls." I said, as John takes the laptop across the room and puts it down on the floor beside his armchair as he sits down. "Do I have to bring up Los Angeles and Operation Handcuffs?"

"How many of our adventures do you know?" Mikoto asked, and Sherlock clasps his hands in the prayer position in front of his mouth as he props his elbows on the table and looks thoughtful. "Is it enough?"

"I think you girls are ahead of what I know. The last I know of is New Years." I said, while John picks up a small pile of letters from the table beside his chair and frowns. "I wish I knew more but I don't."

"Oh." John said, flicking through the letters, at least one of which appears to be a red bill which needs urgent paying while he shakes his head in resignation. "Need to get a job."

"Oh, dull." Sherlock said, as he seems to be lost in thought.

John puts the letters back onto the table and looks across at his friend for a moment, but then glances at the bills again and awkwardly sits forward.

"Listen, um ... if you'd be able to lend me some ..." John said, stopping when he realises that Sherlock appears to be a world of his own. "Sherlock, are you listening?"

"I need to go to the bank." Sherlock said, getting up and heads towards the stairs, taking his coat from the hook on the door as he goes.

John frowns, then jumps up and hurries to join him. I looked over at Uiharu and Saten with a frown on my face. I then looked at Mikoto and Shirai, knowing where we needed to go.

"Sherlock and John are going to take the long way. Shirai, wanna take the shortcut with Mikoto?"

"Fine. Where are we going?" Shirai asked, looking at Uiharu. "What's the address?"

"A place called Shad Sanderson Bank. It's Tower 42 on Old Broad Street." Uiharu said, opening John's laptop and unlocking it.

"Got it." Shirai said, teleporting away from 221B Baker Street with Mikoto and I.

TOWER 42, OLD BROAD STREET...

Sherlock leads John through revolving glass doors which lead into Shad Sanderson Bank. John stares at the impressive foyer as he follows his friend.

"Yes, when you said we were going to the bank ..." John said, while he gets onto an escalator behind Sherlock while the detective observes everything around him, especially the security systems which have to have cards swiped across electronic readers in order to open glass barrier gates.

The boys reach the top of the escalator and Sherlock walks over to the reception desk and addresses one of the receptionists. Shirai, Mikoto, and I appeared right outside of the reception desk which was a good teleport overall on the teleporter's part.

"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock said.

Sebastian Wilkes' office...

A little later, the boys and I have been shown into Sebastian Wilkes' office and now he walks in and grins at Sherlock. I told Shirai to bring herself, Mikoto, Saten, and Uiharu back to Academy City knowing that this adventure is going to be boring and rather slow for the most part.

"Sherlock Holmes." Sebastian said.

"Sebastian." Sherlock said, shaking hands with Sebastian.

"Two people starting with the letter 's'." I said, as Sebastian clasping Sherlock's hand in both of his own.

"Howdy, buddy. How long's it been? Eight years since I last clapped eyes on you?" Sebastian asked, and Sherlock looks back at him with only marginally disguised dislike.

Sebastian turns to look at John and I.

"These are my friends, John Watson and Jared Shay." Sherlock said, looking between John and I.

"Friends?" Sebastian asked, latching on to the emphasized word.

"Colleagues." John said.

"Sherlock, John, and I aren't really close." I said, as Sebastian shook my hand. "Colleagues is the right word to describe us."

"Right." Sebastian said, while they shook hands, Sebastian looked at John and I curiously. "Right."

Sebastian throws a brief look at Sherlock as if saying, 'Didn't think you had friends!' Grinning unpleasantly, he momentarily scratches his neck and Sherlock's gaze falls on his wristwatch.

"Yeah..." I said, as Sebastian turned away, John pursed his lips, while I looked down at the floor, as if John and I had taken an instant dislike to the man; either that or we'd regret correcting Sherlock. "Um..."

"Well, grab a pew. D'you need anything? Coffee, water?" Sebastian asked, as Sherlock shakes his head.

"No." John said.

"Nope." I said, taking out a water bottle filled with a mocha frappuccino inside it with me taking a sip of my drink. "I'm good."

"No?" Sebastian asked, looking at his secretary. "We're all sorted here, thanks."

As the secretary leaves the room, Sebastian sits down at his desk and Sherlock and John sit side by side opposite him with me standing by the far wall.

"So, you're doing well. You've been abroad a lot." Sherlock said.

"Well, some." Sebastian said.

"Flying all the way round the world twice in a month?" Sherlock asked, and John frowns in confusion but Sebastian just laughs and points at the consulting detective.

"Right. You're doing that thing." Sebastian said, annoyed. "We were at uni together. This guy here had a trick he used to do."

"Sebastian, what Sherlock does isn't a trick." I said, sadly.

"No, what he does is a trick." Sebastian said, looking at John and I. "He could look at you and tell you your whole life story."

"Yes, I've seen him do it." John said.

"Same. He is amazing at it." I said, walking up to John to grab his hand.

"Put the wind up everybody. We hated him." Sebastian said, while Sherlock turns his head away and looks down, his face momentarily filling with pain. "You'd come down to breakfast in the Formal Hall and this freak would know you'd been shagging the previous night."

"I simply observed." Sherlock said, quietly.

"Go on, enlighten me. Two trips a month, flying all the way around the world – you're quite right. How could you tell?" Sebastian asked, while Sherlock opens his mouth but his associate continues speaking with a smug look on his face. "You're gonna tell me there was, um, a stain on my tie from some special kind of ketchup you can only buy in Manhattan."

John and I smile at Sherlock.

"No, I ..." Sherlock said.

"Maybe it was the mud on my shoes!" Sebastian said, talking over Sherlock.

Sherlock simply looks back at Sebastian for a moment before speaking, "I was just chatting with your secretary outside. She told me."

"Seriously?" I asked, while John frowned round at Sherlock, confused by such an 'ordinary' explanation. "No amazing deduction?"

"Not this time." Sherlock said, as Sebastian laughs humorlessly and the consulting detective smiles back at him with an equal lack of humor.

Sebastian claps his hands together, then becomes more serious.

"I'm glad you could make it over. We've had a break-in." Sebastian said, and he leads us across the trading floor towards another door. "Sir William's office – the bank's former Chairman. The room's been left here like a sort of memorial. Someone broke in late last night."

"Well, what did they steal?" I asked, squeezing John's hand.

"Nothing. Just left a little message." Sebastian said, holding his security card against the reader by the door to unlock it.

Office...

Inside, hanging on the plain white wall behind the large desk is a framed painted portrait of a man in a suit – presumably the late Sir William Shad himself. On the wall to the left of the portrait someone has sprayed what looks like a graffiti 'tag' in yellow paint. The tag looks vaguely like a number 8 but with the top of the number left open, and above it is an almost horizontal straight line. Across the eyes of the portrait itself, another almost horizontal straight line has been sprayed. Perhaps because of the texture of the paper or perhaps because the 'artist' oversprayed the line, the yellow paint has run trails down the painting. Sebastian leads the way towards the desk and then steps aside to allow Sherlock a clear view of the wall. John moves to stand on the other side of Sebastian, who looks at Sherlock expectantly while the detective stares in fixed concentration at the graffiti.

Sebastian's office...

Sebastian is showing the boys and I the security footage of the office from the previous night.

"Sixty seconds apart." Sebastian said, flicking back and forth between the still photograph taken at 23:34:01 which shows the paint on the wall and on the portrait, and a minute earlier – 23:33:01 – when the wall and portrait were still clean. "So, someone came up here in the middle of the night, splashed paint around, then left within a minute."

"How many ways into that office?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, that's where this gets really interesting." Sebastian said.

Reception area...

Sebastian shows the three of us a screen on a computer which has a layout of the trading floor and its surrounding offices. Each indicated door has a light against it showing its security status.

"Every door that opens in this bank, it gets logged right here. Every walk-in cupboard, every toilet." Sebastian said.

"That door didn't open last night." Sherlock said.

"There's a hole in our security. Find it and we'll pay you – five figures." Sebastian said, reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket and takes out a cheque. "This is an advance. Tell me how he got in, there's a bigger one on its way."

"I don't need an incentive, Sebastian." Sherlock said, walking away.

He walks away. John watches him go with me beside his side, then the blonde turns to Sebastian.

"He's, uh, he's kidding you, obviously." John said, holding out his hand. "Sh-shall I look after that for him?" Sebastian hands him the cheque. "Thanks." He looks at the figure on the cheque and shakes his head in disbelief that this is only the advance. "Jesus. Jared, was this how much Torchwood and UNIT paid you?"

(Open POV)

Sir William's office...

Sherlock has returned to Sir William's office and is taking photographs on his mobile phone of the graffiti. Once he has taken several pictures he turns around, the symbols still floating in front of his mind's eye. He looks to his right where the floor-to-ceiling windows show an impressive view of the nearby Swiss Re Tower, better known as 'The Gherkin.' Frowning and looking away in thought for a moment, he then walks over to the windows and pulls up the blinds which are covering what is revealed to be a door onto a small balcony. Opening the door he goes out onto the balcony and looks at the spectacular view over London before looking down at the very long drop to the ground hundreds of feet below. Sherlock looks along the balcony and bites his lip thoughtfully before heading back inside.

Shortly afterwards, Sherlock is dancing. On the trading floor he has ducked down behind a desk and now rises slowly upright, staring in concentration at the glass doorway to Sir William's office. He then ducks sideways and hurries across the floor, to the bemusement of a Random Sexy Extra and other traders. Sherlock continues to scamper around the floor, frequently scurrying sideways and ducking down behind desks before popping up again and peering at the doorway. He dances across the floor again and twirls around a column, knocking it sideways before backing towards an office on the other side of the floor. Stopping in that doorway, he wiggles about, his eyes still fixed on Sir William's office, then turns and goes into the office and heads to the other side of the desk. Standing directly behind the chair of whoever works in that room, he sees that he has a clear view of the top of the painting and the new yellow slash across the portrait's eyes. He dances sideways across the room before coming back to his previous position, confirming that this is the only place on the trading floor from where the damaged portrait can be seen. Looking around the room for some identification, he eventually goes to the door where two signs are attached to the outside, one showing that this is the office of the Hong Kong Desk Head, and the sign above it giving the name of that person – Edward Van Coon. He slides the top sign out of its holder and heads off.

(Jared's POV)

Tower 42...

Not long afterwards, Sherlock is leading John and I back towards the escalators.

"Two trips around the world this month. You didn't ask his secretary; you said that just to irritate him." John said, while Sherlock smiles but doesn't respond. "How did you know?"

"He knew because Sherlock's that observant. Did you see Sebastian's watch?" I asked, while I was looking at Sebastian's wrist while he scratched his neck.

"His watch?" John asked.

"Um, the time was right but the date's wrong. The date on the watch said two days ago."

"Jared's right, the watch crossed the dateline twice but Sebastian didn't alter it." Sherlock said, looking at me.

"Within a month? How'd you get that part?" John asked.

"New Breitling." Sherlock said, as he looked at the watch showing its brand name: Breitling Chronometre Crosswind. "Only came out this February."

"Okay. So d'you think we should sniff around here for a bit longer?" John asked.

"Got everything I need to know already, thanks." Sherlock said. "And I have Jared to provide me with hints if I need them."

"Hmm?"

"That graffiti was a message for someone at the bank working on the trading floors. We find the intended recipient and ..." Sherlock said, and he deliberately trails off, allowing John to finish the sentence.

"... they'll lead us to the person who sent it."

"Obvious."

"Well, there's three hundred people up there. Who was it meant for?"

"Pillars."

"What?"

"Pillars and the screens. Very few places you can see that graffiti from. That narrows the field considerably. And of course the message was left at eleven thirty-four last night. That tells us a lot."

"Does it?" John asked.

"It does." I said, happily.

Sherlock continues talking as he, John, and I go through the revolving doors and out onto the street.

London...

"Traders come to work at all hours. Some trade with Hong Kong in the middle of the night. That message was intended for someone who came in at midnight." Sherlock said, holding up the name card to show John and I. "Not many Van Coons in the phonebook." He spots what he immediately needs and calls out loudly. "Taxi!"

After a taxi ride, we are outside a block of flats and Sherlock presses the door buzzer marked 'Van Coon'. Releasing it, he looks into the security camera above the buzzers, waits a couple of seconds, then presses the buzzer again. There's no response.

"So what do we do now? Sit here and wait for him to come back?" John asked.

"Nope, there's no need." I said, while Sherlock looked at the number of buzzers on the wall and stepped back to look up the front of the building, presumably calculating the layout of the flats inside. "We don't have to wait for him."

"He's right, we don't." Sherlock said, coming back to the wall and looking at John and I triumphantly. "Just moved in."

"What?" John asked.

"So, the floor above Van Coon's has a new label." I said, pointing to another buzzer which has a handwritten label saying, 'Wintle'.

"Could have just replaced it." John said, as Sherlock presses that buzzer, then looks at John again.

"No-one ever does that." Sherlock said, and a woman's voice comes over the intercom.

"Hello?" Ms Wintle asked, her voice over the intercom.

Sherlock turns to the camera and smiles, putting on a 'I'm just a normal harmless human being' voice.

"Hi! Um, I live in the flat just below you. I-I don't think we've met." Sherlock said, grinning prettily into the camera.

"No, well, uh, I've just moved in." Ms Wintle said, her voice over the intercom.

Sherlock turns to throw a brief 'told you so' glance at John, then turns back to the camera.

"Actually, I've just locked my keys in my flat." Sherlock said, grimacing and bites his lip plaintively.

"D'you want me to buzz you in?" Ms Wintle asked, her voice over the intercom.

"Yeah. And can I use your balcony?"

"What?"

Apartment complex...

Not long afterwards, Sherlock has flirted his way into the lucky Ms Wintle's flat and is standing on her balcony. He looks over the side to the ground several floors below. Luckily for him, he is on the top floor where the flats have balconies which only run halfway across the front of the flat, whereas the floor below has full-width balconies. He climbs over the side of Ms Wintle's balcony and drops down onto the one outside Van Coon's flat. Taking another look over the edge, he turns and reaches for the handle of the door and finds that it is unlocked, which is a jolly good thing or he'd still be sitting there now waiting for Lestrade to turn up with many many colleagues who would want to take photographs of him stranded out there. He goes inside and walks across the very elegantly decorated living room. This is clearly the apartment of a wealthy person, with white leather furniture, shiny black tables and minimal clutter. He looks at everything as he goes through the room, and glances at a pile of books on a table. He walks through the kitchen, looking at the work surface before opening the fridge to reveal that it's full of nothing other than bottles of champagne. The front door to the flat buzzes.

"Sherlock." John said, from the other side of the door with me by his side.

"Sherlock? Hello?" I asked, while Sherlock moves into the hall. "Are you there?"

"Sherlock, are you okay?" John asked, standing next to me outside.

Sherlock opens the door to the small bathroom and glances inside at the few items on the shelf opposite. He shuts the door and walks to a larger door which is closed. He tries it and finds that it's locked.

"Yeah, any time you feel like letting us in." John said, standing outside next to me.

Sherlock turns side-on and shoulder-charges the door and it bursts open. He walks inside and finds a man in a suit and overcoat lying on his back on the bed, dead. There is a pistol on the floor, and the man has a small bullet hole in his right temple.

I teleported away from this apartment with my vortex manipulator knowing that this moment is time is a rather slow one and I am not that much of a fan of this adventure after I typed in the space time coordinates for me to miss the majority of this case. Mostly because I'm not that much of a fan of 'The Blind Banker' at all.

221B Baker Street...

I reappeared in the kitchen to see John sitting at the table while Sherlock stands next to him and pours him a mug of tea from a teapot.

"Ta." John said, looking at the translated message on the photograph. "So, 'Nine mill ...'"

"Yeah. Nine million." I said, while I poured myself and Sherlock mugs of tea. "How was this case?"

"You missed a considerable amount of it. But it was good." Sherlock said, picking up his mug of tea. "You knew I could handle it. Especially finding the nine million."

"Million, yes; 'Nine million for jade pin. Dragon den, black Tramway.'" John said.

"Well, it was an instruction to all of their London operatives. I couldn't risk telling you both early. So I..." I said, sipping my cup of tea.

"So you teleported to the end to make sure the timeline stays in place." Sherlock said, looking at me. "Smart yet stupid."

"Mmm." John said.

"A message; what they were trying to reclaim."

"What, a jade pin?"

"Worth nine million pounds. Bring it to the Tramway, their London hideout."

"Hang on: a hairpin worth nine million pounds?"

"Apparently." I said, smiling.

"Why so much? Jared, is that why you avoided this case so much? Is it because of that hairpin?" John asked, looking at me.

"Besides the timeline. Yeah. Well, it mostly depends on who owned said nine million pound item."

SHAD SANDERSON BANK...

The boys and I are walking towards the entrance to the bank.

"Two operatives based in London. They travel over to Dalian to smuggle those vases. One of them helps himself to something: a little hairpin." Sherlock said.

"And that hairpin was worth nine million pounds." I said, sadly.

"Eddie Van Coon was the thief. He stole the treasure when he was in China." Sherlock said.

"How d'you know it was Van Coon, not Lukis? Even the killer didn't know that." John said.

"Because of the soap." Sherlock said, going through the revolving doors.

"Soap? What soap? Sherlock!" I said, angrily.

Sherlock looks round smugly at John and I, with the two of us stops and stares back at the consulting detective blankly for a moment before John and I follow him into the bank.

(Open POV)

Upstairs, Van Coon's P.A. Amanda is sitting at her desk. She squirts a bit of hand lotion from the pump-action bottle on the desk and rubs it into her hands. Her phone rings and she picks it up and answers it.

"Amanda." Amanda said.

"He bought you a present." Sherlock said, his voice over the phone.

"Oh. Hello."

"A little gift when he came back from China."

"How do you know that?"

"You weren't just his P.A., were you?" Sherlock asked, from behind Amanda who turns in surprise as he walks around to the side of the desk, switching off his phone and putting it back into his pocket.

"Someone's been gossiping." Amanda said, switching off her own phone and putting it down.

"No."

"Then I don't understand. Why ...?"

"Scented hand soap in his apartment." Sherlock said, interrupting Amanda as he remembers looking into Van Coon's bathroom and seeing a pump-action bottle of luxury hand wash on the shelf. "Three hundred millilitres of it. Bottle almost finished."

"Sorry?" Amanda asked, frowning in confusion.

"I don't think Eddie Van Coon was the type of chap to buy himself hand soap – not unless he had a lady coming over. And it's the same brand as that hand cream there on your desk." Sherlock said.

Amanda momentarily looks down awkwardly, "Look, it wasn't serious between us. It was over in a flash. It couldn't last – he was my boss."

"What happened? Why did you end it?"

"I thought he didn't appreciate me. Took me for granted. Stood me up once too often – we'd plan to go away for the weekend and then he'd just leave; fly off to China at a moment's notice." Amanda said, sadly.

"And he brought you a present from abroad to say sorry." Sherlock said, while his gaze is focussed on a small green jade hairpin in her hair. "Can I ... just have a look at it?"

He holds out his hand.

Sebastian's office...

Seb is signing a cheque for £20,000. He looks up at John and Jared who are standing at the other side of the desk.

"He really climbed up onto the balcony?" Sebastian asked, putting the cheque into an envelope.

"Yup. He did." Jared said, looking at Sebastian. "Can I get a hundred thousand so this can remain buried in the media if you choose to do so?"

"I will." Seb said, signing a check for £100,000 and he gave that to Jared. "How can you ensure no one else will know?"

"I have a friend that could redirect the link from someone's blog if they choose to do so. Anyway, just nail a wooden plank across the window and all your problems will be over."

Looking peeved, Sebastian holds out the other envelope to John.

"Thanks. Let's go, Jared." John said, looking at Jared. "Is that hundred thousand for next year?"

"Yes. A miracle will be coming. And it isn't the good kind." Jared said, sadly.

Shad Sanderson Bank...

Outside, Amanda is holding her hair in place with one hand while she takes out the pin with the other.

"Said he bought it in a street market." Amanda said, putting the pin into Sherlock's outstretched hand.

"Oh, I don't think that's true. I think he pinched it." Sherlock said.

"Yeah, that's Eddie." Amanda said, chuckling ruefully.

"Didn't know its value; just thought it would suit you."

"Oh? What's it worth?" Amanda asked, as Sherlock smirks.

"Nine ... million ... pounds." Sherlock said, slowly.

Amanda's face fills with shock.

"Oh my God!" Amanda said, stumbling to her feet and staggers backwards as Sherlock grins. "Oh my G..." She turns and runs away to become high-pitched and hysterical. "Nine million!"

Sebastian's office...

"Now I see why you teleported away to today. You would have died of boredom waiting to tell Amanda that." John said, looking at Jared.

John and Jared turned their heads at the sound of Amanda's voice, then turned back and nodded to Sebastian before leaving the room.

"Yeah. I would. She needed to know and I wanted Sherlock to tell her." Jared said, frowning. "Now she knows due to the right man telling her."

(Jared's POV)

221B Baker Street...

Sherlock, wearing a dressing gown over his shirt and trousers, is sitting at the dining table while John and I sits opposite him. Sherlock is looking at the front page of the Sunday Express, where the headline reads, 'Who wants to be a million-hair.' He folds the paper in half, puts it down and picks up another newspaper.

"Over a thousand years old and it's sitting on her bedside table every night." John said.

"He didn't know its value; didn't know why they were chasing him." Sherlock said.

"Hmm. Should've just got her a lucky cat." John said, and Sherlock smiles at him briefly, then looks away.

"A lucky cat would have been nice for her. Then again, he could have gotten her some Chinese snacks." I said, happily.

"Chinese snacks? That would work if she loves food."

"Hmm." Sherlock said,  while his gaze becomes distant. "Chinese snacks like sesame balls, pork buns, or pork dumplings."

John looks at Sherlock closely, "You mind, don't you?"

"What?" Sherlock asked, looking at John.

"That she escaped – General Shan. It's not enough that we got her two henchmen." John said.

"It must be a vast network, John; thousands of operatives. You, Jared, and I, we barely scratched the surface."

"You cracked the code, though, Sherlock; and maybe Dimmock can track down all of them now that he knows it." John said.

"No. No. I cracked this code; all the smugglers have to do is pick up another book." Sherlock said, while he opens his newspaper and lifts it, beginning to read.

"If only I didn't send Judgement away." I said, looking over to the window with John, and I frowned and looked closely as a young man in a hooded jacket and wearing a cap walks over to a tall black box on the other side of the road which dispenses parking permits. "Shirai and Uiharu could have found them and brought them to justice."

"Those two? Probably." John said, watching a bag being put on the ground, and the young man looks around in all directions to make sure he's not being watched, then lifts a spray can in his right hand and sprays his tag on the back of the box. "How long have you known them for?"

"From my world or this one?" I asked, while John and I watches while the 'artist' finishes the tag, picks up his bag and hurries away. "This world? A few seasons worth. In my world, since March 2023."

"That's pretty short." John said, as Sherlock, oblivious to this, continues to read his paper, the blonde looks thoughtful, and a police car sirens its way down the road. "Mikoto Misaka, Shirai Kuroko, Saten Ruiko, and Uiharu Kazari are nice girls."

(Open POV)

In a room somewhere, Shan is sitting at a desk and talking to someone over a computer. Her live image is being transmitted to the other person but the space on the screen which should be showing the face of whoever she's talking to is marked 'No image available.' There is also a text box on the screen which shows that the person to whom she's talking is indicated simply as 'M'. Shan sounds very humble as she speaks.

"Without you – without your assistance – we would not have found passage into London. You have my thanks." Shan said.

The other person's response appears typed on the screen:

"GRATITUDE IS MEANINGLESS." M said. "IT IS ONLY THE EXPECTATION OF FURTHER FAVOURS."

The computer beeps to indicate that the message has finished.

"We did not anticipate ... we did not know this man would come – this Sherlock Holmes." Shan said, while her  face fills with concern. "And now your safety is compromised."

The computer beeps and new text appears:

"THEY CANNOT TRACE THIS BACK TO ME." M said.

The computer beeps.

"I will not reveal your identity." Shan said, sincerely.

The computer beeps.

"I AM CERTAIN." M said.

The computer beeps. Unseen by Shan, the red light of a rifle's laser sight appears in the centre of her forehead. Our view of the scene fades to black, and then a single gunshot rings out as we hear the sound of the bullet smashing through the window opposite en route to its target.