Sentiment || Sherlock Holmes

The Blind Banker Part 1

The white walled lab in the basement of New Scotland Yard was quiet. Anderson was away "at lunch" for several hours, taking his incessant yammering with him.

Eve hummed an old love song to herself as she placed several blood samples into the centrifuge. She carefully closed the lid and turned on the machine. She sang a few lyrics aloud and slid into her rolling desk chair, her momentum making the chair spin a few times, earning a few smiles from Dana, who worked at the station next to her. The other forensic scientists were used to the occasional absent-minded musical outburst by Evelyn and found it rather endearing.

Luckily for London, but unluckily for Eve's brain, there had been very few big cases in the past several weeks. She was left in the middle of the pack once more, solving robbery, arson, assault, and even some murders at a steady pace, only slowed down by her thorough nature when writing reports and the petty meddling of Anderson in an attempt to keep her from taking his job.

Evelyn sighed, stretching out her legs and leaned backward, letting the tension out of her back and shoulders for a moment as she looked up at the ceiling. Her mobile buzzed on the desk next to her.

The text read: 405 Black Prince Road.

Hello, Sherlock. I'm doing great, thanks for asking. How are you? She typed in return.

Significantly less bored than you.

And less employed. I do have a job you know.

See you soon. He replied . She smiled.

Eve traded her lab coat for her deep red peacoat. She swooped out the door, calling something about a lunch break over her shoulder.

As the double doors of the lab swung back and forth and Eve walked farther down the hallway, a forgotten centrifuge beeped in the corner to signify the end of its test.

After a quick taxi ride across Westminster Bridge into Lambeth, Evelyn joined John and Sherlock outside of an apartment building.

"Hello Eve," John greeted flatly. "You've come just in time to sit here and wait."

"Wait for what exactly?" She asked, looking between her two friends.

"Van Coon." Sherlock said distractedly, looking over the name cards next to the apartment buzzers.

"Van who now?"

"There was a break in at the bank." Sherlock snapped the 'k.' "Whomever it was got in without opening any doors and left a message for Edward Van Coon in under a minute. Any idea what this means?" He shoved his phone towards her, photos of yellow spray paint on a wall and a portrait.

"I think it's Chinese, but I'm sorry to say I can't tell you more than that." Evelyn offered.

"Sherlock, should we just come back later?" John inquired, rocking backward on his heel impatiently.

"Just moved in." Sherlock said.

"What?"

"The floor above― new label."

Eve noted the shine on the name tag labeled "Wintle."

"Could've just replaced it." John suggested.

"No one does that." Evelyn pointed out.

Sherlock pressed the buzzer with his gloved finger.

"Hello?" The slightly tinny voice of a woman answered.

Sherlock plastered on a smile and leaned forward, as if the woman could see him. "Hi!" He said cheerfully. "Erm, I live in the flat just below you. I don't think we've met."