Chapter Text
The Baker Street Trio walked away from Soo Lin Yao's flat in Chinatown towards the National History Museum at a brisk pace. Sherlock was taking the lead with Maddie since he was carrying her, and John brought up the rear, but he struggling to keep up with Sherlock's long strides on the crowded street.
"Sherlock, I know you're eager to solve this case, but- sorry," John apologized, after bumping into a group of tourists. "Could you slow down?"
"Hmm? Oh," Sherlock blinked, pausing so the doctor could catch up. The consulting detective wanted to put as much space between the flat and his daughter as possible. While logically, he knew that the person who had attacked him was long gone, he couldn't help but feel the protective need to get his daughter away from danger.
"Thank you. Now mind telling me what's wrong? You're practically sprinting down the street."
"Yeah dad, are you sure you're okay?" Maddie inquired, gently placing her hand over his scarf that hid the red finger marks on his neck.
"Yes Madds, I'm alright," Sherlock nodded confidently, patting her back. "Why do you ask?"
The nine-year-old frowned and seeing as her father was refusing to talk about what happened in the flat, she decided to file it away in her mind as something to discuss later.
"Nevermind," she sighed, burying her face into his neck missing her father sharing a look with John.
"Hmm...Well, to answer you John, I want to get to the museum before it closes. Soo Lin Yao's life is in danger, and she's out best potential lead in this case so far."
"Right, and to find out where she went, we need to talk to this Andy chap. Got it."
Thankfully, they made it to the museum before closing. Sherlock was quick to make a few inquiries after which they were led to the Chinese Exhibit Hall to meet with Andy.
"When was the last time that you saw her?" Sherlock asked, watching as Maddie walked over to a display with clay teapots.
The curious child couldn't help but notice that one teapot was shiny. That one there looks to be in much better condition than the others. How'd they make it look so shiny? Oil? But wouldn't damage the teapot over time?
"Three days ago," Andy sighed, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. "Here at the museum. This morning, they told me she'd resigned. Just like that. Left her work unfinished."
"What was the last thing that she did on her final afternoon?" Sherlock questioned as he walked over to take Maddie's hand in his.
"Ah, she does this demonstration for the tourists, a tea ceremony," Andy explained, waving them on to follow him.
As the group journeyed deeper into the museum past the exhibits to the extensive archives, Andy continued to talk about Soo Lin Yao. He went on to the point of rambling about the woman's mundane habits, like how she liked her tea and what things she ate at lunch which Sherlock found annoying and Maddie thought borderline weird. It's clear he fancies her, the little Holmes thought. But everything he's talked about has been related to work in some way. Does he know anything about her personal life beyond where she lives and how she likes her tea?
"So, she would have packed up her things and just put them in here," the young man continued, pointing to a particular shelf among the rows of artifacts. John and Maddie were eager to check it out, but Sherlock found himself distracted by a figure obscured in the shadows.
Molten grey eyes narrowing, he dropped Maddie's hand and carefully approached. If it was another assassin, he'd make sure they wouldn't escape again.
It was a marble statue. And across its body, another cipher. Seeing it, sent the consulting detective's mind into overdrive.
"We have to get to Soo Lin Yao," Sherlock declared, running back over to scoop Maddie back into his arms. With his daughter secured, he and John made for the exit, leaving Andy with a stunned expression.
"If she's still alive," John added grimly after the trio made it outside where a nighttime London greeted them.
"Oi! Holmes Family!" a voice shouted from nearby. Maddie peeped over her father's shoulder to see it was Raz. He was jogging from around the side of the building with a pleased grin.
"Oh, look who it is," John muttered with irritation.
"Found something you'll like," the graffiti artist smirked, ignoring the doctor.
While Raz brought the group to a nearby train depot where some other teens were either skateboarding or spray painting their own tags on the overly graffitied wall, John tried his best to convince Raz to own up to get out the ASBO.
"Look, Tuesday morning, all you've got to do is turn up and say the bag was yours."
"Forget about your court date," Sherlock snapped, earning a disapproving glare from Maddie that he pretended not to notice. He had no doubt that his daughter was planning to scold him later about it. "If you want to hide a tree in the forest, this would be the best place to do it, wouldn't you say?" he nodded towards the walls. "People would just walk straight past, not knowing, unable to decipher the message."
"But how do you make sure the right people know to look for the message here dad?"
"By leaving breadcrumbs. That information would most likely would be communicated through another, shorter message placed in areas more frequented by the "right people"," Sherlock explained, and Maddie nodded in understanding.
"There. I spotted it earlier," Raz interrupted, pointing to the yellow cipher that was placed over older tags.
"They've been here. And that's the exact same paint?"
"Yeah."
"John, if we're going to decipher this code, we need to look for more evidence," Sherlock stated as he let Maddie down so she could rummage through her messenger bag to produce her gloves which she put on to fight the chill in the air before she grabbed her torch.
"Right," John agreed. "Should we really be splitting up again?"
"Given how much ground we need to cover, that is the best solution. But keep your phone on you. Come on Madds."
Out in the train yard, Sherlock and Maddie quietly moved and quickly, looking for any signs of the cipher. Maddie couldn't help but note her father had placed a guiding hand on her back and while it wasn't unusual for him to keep her close during an investigation, he was being extremely...clingy for lack of a better word. It honestly worried the nine-year-old because it normally meant he was feeling extra protective of her and given what she knew he was hiding under his scarf, well...
Focus Maddie, she mentally scolded herself. I can't afford to get scared right now. I'll talk to dad about it later... Let's see, plenty of rubbish lying about which is kind of sad to see...Hmm...what else? Posters for a Chinese Circus...interesting, never been to a circus. Not sure that I'd want to go through. And...oh!
"Dad!" Maddie ran over to a discarded spray paint can on the ground. Sherlock had been eyeing the posters closer but was quick to follow his daughter further into the dark. And seeing the can, he knelt down to pick it up. As he turned it over, the Holmes duo saw drips going down the side that were a match to the yellow used for the symbols.
"Excellent work Madds," he grinned, ruffling her curls with his free hand. "Now-"
"Sherlock! Maddie!" John's shout interrupted as he rounded the corner of a nearby building. "Answer your phone, I've been calling you. I found it!"
Maddie blinked in surprise as her father scooped her up into his arms and took off with John. She hadn't heard her or her father's phone ring at all.
After weaving around the various equipment and buildings in the train depot, John came to a sudden stop at a wall that clearly had been just painted over in a thick, black paint. Seeing it, he choked.
"It's been painted over," he whispered brokenly. "I don't understand. It was...here. Ten minutes ago, I saw it. A whole load of graffiti."
"Somebody doesn't want me to see it," Sherlock determined, setting Maddie down before placing his hands on either side of John's head.
"Sherlock, what are you doing?" the doctor blinked in surprise before Sherlock shushed him.
"John, concentrate. I need you to concentrate. Close your eyes."
"What? Why? Why? What are you doing?" John tried swatting the taller man away but failed. "Maddie, little help!"
"Dad, what are you doing to poor John?" the nine-year old inquired, tilting her head. She trusted her father’s process, though she couldn’t help feeling befuddled. Then the two men started to turn in a slow circle in what looked to Maddie like an awkward dance.
"I need him to maximize his visual memory as he doesn't have a mind palace or space. Now, John, try to picture what you saw. Can you picture it?" Sherlock attempted to guide John through this mental challenge. Maddie had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. I shouldn't interrupt because dad's trying to help.
"Can you remember it?"
"Yes, definitely," John attempted to nod with Sherlock's hands still on his head.
"Can you remember the pattern?"
"Look, don't worry-"
"Because the average human memory on visual matters is only 62% accurate," Sherlock stressed in a worried tone.
"Well, don't worry, I remember all of it," John smirked, as he recovered from his initial shock and previous disappointment.
"Really?"
"Well at least I would, if I could get to my pockets," the shorter man playfully snipped, shoving Sherlock's hands away as he fished out his phone from his jacket. "I took a photograph. "
John unlocked his phone to show the wall of symbols.
"You didn't think to ask him if he took a photo first?" Maddie finally burst into giggles. The bubbling, cheerful sound was a stark contrast to the otherwise silent, desolate train depot, and both John and Sherlock visibly relaxed hearing it. John grinned while Sherlock scoffed.
"I...it was a thought," Sherlock adjusting his tone to be more neutral to hide his embarrassment. Then he shook his head and grabbed Maddie's hand again. "It's not safe trying to decipher these symbols in the dark when we know someone just painted the wall to hide them. Let's return to Baker Street."