𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄, sherlock holmes

𝐗𝐗𝐈 . . . THAT DAMN POPPY ROCKEFELLER!

WHENEVER JOHN BLINKED, HE ENDED up staring dumbly at the body of Soo Lin Yao that'd fallen in the three minutes he'd been away from the location they were meant to be hiding in. On one hand, he was grateful she had been the only victim as she'd been the final clue they needed as he followed Sherlock into the foyer of Scotland Yard. On the other, he'd been told to keep and eye on her and he'd failed at it. The one thing he'd been asked to do.

The frustration he held towards himself provided the fire behind the words he spat at Detective Inspector Dimmock, who sat at his desk refusing to look at him. "How many murders is it going to take for you to start believing that this maniac is out there?" The phone next to the thin paper file rang, but John continued to speak over it. "A young girl was gunned down tonight." Military vocabulary was starting to seep into his sentences, "That's three victims in three days. You're supposed to be finding him."

Again he was ignored, as Dimmock picked up the receiver and spoke into it. "Detective Inspector Dimmock." As the person on the other end of the line was talking, he began to pale. Then he stuttered, and wrote something down on a green post-it note. Sherlock looked to john and smirked. John was trying to listen to the voice traveling down the wires. "Christ, well I'll be there as soon as I can." Scrambling for his briefcase he left the phone lying upwards on his desk, making a beeline for the door to the floor of offices.

Sherlock picked up the phone with two fingers. "Fantastic, Rockefeller." John stopped his frantic pacing. "That's Poppy?" He asked before the two set off chasing after Dimmock. "Yes. Calling from Mrs Hudson's landline, she's just pretended to be a nurse at St Barts. Informed Dimmock that his mother's had a fall and is in a critical condition. She must've figured out they're from the Black Lotus too."

Dimmock was halfway through the foyer again and was hurrying through the turnstiles, but turned back to his pursuers when the tail-end of his blazer got caught on the gate. "Oh, what do you two want now? Don't you know I have places to be?" Sherlock and John barged their way into the other side of the cab he'd just hailed.

"Yes, and since you're headed to Barts I might as well tell you that your mother is not on her death-bed, neither has she had a fall. Now, Brian Lukis and Eddie Van Coon were working for a gang of international smugglers. A gang called The Black Lotus, operating here in London right under your nose." Sherlock concluded with a definitive nod and he with-drew when John coughed.

He'd caught sight of Dimmock's confusion and had jabbed Sherlock sharply in the shoulder.

After finding out that his mother had not been hospitalised for falling off a step-ladder whilst dusting the lamp-shade in her home, he'd found no other reason to begrudgingly accept the offer to see the bodies of Lukis and Van Coon. But, he wasn't going to go down lightly. "Can you prove that? And who called from St Barts?"