The taxi stopped in front of a fancy restaurant.
"Isn't it a bit early for dinner, Sherlock?" John asked.
I tutted at him.
"Sorry to burst your bubble but we aren't here for food." He replied.
We went inside and I spotted Sebastian sitting with three men. Sherlock was making his way over.
"It was a threat. That's what the graffiti meant."
"I'm kind of in a meeting. Can you make an appointment with my secretary." Sebastian said, sniggering at us.
"I don't think this can wait, sorry Sebastian. One of your traders -someone who works in your office- was killed." I retorted.
"What?"
"Van Coon. The police are at his flat." Sherlock informed.
"Killed?" He wasn't so arrogant anymore, he and his colleagues were all stunned at the news.
"Sorry to interfere with everybody's digestion. Still want to make an appointment? Would, maybe, nine o'clock at Scotland Yard suit?" I said sarcastically.
Sebastian put his drink down and rubbed his neck - that seemed to be a nervous habit with him. "Shall we?" Sherlock asked. He got up and we followed him over to what looked like the men's toilets.
"I can't go in there." I emphasised.
"Why not?" Sherlock asked.
"Because it's the men's toilet. Obviously." I hissed.
"Oh, it doesn't matter."
"It matters! What if someone sees me?"
"Right, drama queen. Here." He took off his coat and threw it to me. "Put it on."
"Can't I just stay out here?"
"No. Hurry up."
I pulled the huge jacket on, it drowned me. I put the collar up high to hide my face and then followed after them.
I sighed. "Really?"
John and Sherlock chuckled at me but Sebastian just stared, he was still shaken by the news we had brought him.
I walked past, hitting Sherlock as I did.
We spoke a bit about Van Coon, filling Sebastian in. He got a call and had to walk away to answer it.
"That was my chairman. The police have been onto him. Apparently they're telling him it was a suicide." He said, looking slightly relieved.
"Well they've got it wrong, Sebastian. He was murdered." Sherlock stated.
"Well. I'm afraid they don't see it like that. And neither does my boss. I hired you to do a job. Don't get sidetracked."
"And I thought bankers were all supposed to be heartless bastards." John said, as the man was leaving.
I laughed and Sherlock just growled.
"Can we get out of here then?" I said. I was pretty eager to leave, since at any moment a random man was going to walk in and start peeing infront of me.
"Yeah. We need to go back to Baker Street."
"Actually, Sherlock, I've got a job interview today. I, uh, have to go now." John said awkwardly.
"Oh, that's- um, that's fine." He said, storming out of the bathroom, closely followed by me.
We got in a taxi, leaving John behind.
