Human Error - Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter fifteen - Raz

"So are you going to tell us where it is we're going?" I questioned as the gusty wind blew against my face, causing my hair to dance chaotically much to my dissent and causing messy knots in my wavy hair. Pursing my lips into a straight line, I swept some hair behind my ear to keep it from blowing in my face as we walked through Trafalgar Square.

"The world's run on codes and ciphers. From the million-pound security system at the bank," he looked at John, "to the PIN machine you took exception to, cryptography inhabits our every waking moment."

"Yes, okay, but..."

"But it's all computer-generated: electronic codes, electronic ciphering methods. This is different. It's an ancient device. Modern code-breaking methods won't unravel it." He cut John off from his sentence, but John never interrupted him in return. I sent a look Sherlock's way.

"Where are we going?" I asked once again, exasperation lacing my tone. Sherlock met my stare as we continued to walk through the centre of the square, before averting his gaze away.

"I need to ask some advice."

"What?! Sorry?!" John asked, a smile of disbelief creeping onto his lips. Sherlock threw him a blank look.

"You heard me perfectly. I'm not saying it again. "

"Sherlock Holmes needs advice?" I spoke up, finding amusement in the conversation.

"On painting, yes. I need to talk to an expert." He responded, leading us towards the entrance to the National Gallery. I immediately came to the conclusion that he was going to consult in an painting expert at the gallery, and I was certain they would have had loads within the building. However he changed direction and lead us around the gallery instead.

"What experts are we supposed to find around here?" I asked with confusion. I don't know why I was surprised, as if Sherlock would confer with an actual professional.

"Why do you seem so fretful this morning?"

"Oh, I don't know." I began as I followed after him towards the rear of the building. "Money issues. I haven't slept in a bed in awhile, plus I'm dreading getting into trouble for feigning to work for the police."

"You're not pretending to work for the police. I've been assigned this case personally; you're with me."

"You've been assigned to figure out who and how someone broke into the bank," I said, "now we're trying to find who murdered two men."

"Yes, and in doing that we can figure out who broke into the bank and how. Solve the original problem."

"But now it's getting dangerous." I replied, masking out the figure of a young man that we were approaching.

"I thought you loved danger?" Sherlock challenged, glancing at me with a brow raised. I let out a quiet sigh and stopped in my tracks when we finally approached the individual. Looking away from Sherlock, I observed the scene in front of me. The man has used a stencil to spray an imagine of a policeman holding a rifle in his hands onto a mental door; but instead of a human nose the painting of the police man had a pig' snout. I looked down, a saw a large canvas bag at the young man's feet.

The man had two cans in hand, and once he finished spraying his tag 'Raz' below the image he sat back up to add some finishing touches to his artwork. "Part of a new exhibition," the man, Raz I assume, spoke, unperturbed as we all stood near.

"Interesting." Sherlock muttered, clearly not giving a crap about his painting.

"I call it... Urban Bloodlust Frenzy."

"Catchy!" John chirped in, letting out a chuckle.

"I've got two minutes before a Community Support Officer comes round that corner." Raz informed us, before he stopped spraying and looked at us, "Can we do this while I'm workin'?"

Pulling his phone from his coat pocket, Sherlock held it out towards Raz. The male tosses one of the spray cans at John who instinctively catches it, and looks at me and Sherlock in bewilderment. I shrug, not knowing what to say.

Raz took Sherlock's phone and I position myself at an angle so I could see what was on Sherlock's phone. Raz began scrolling through photographs of some of the yellow ciphers from the bank and from a library.

"Know the author?" Sherlock questioned.

"Recognise the paint. It's like Michigan; hardcore propellant. I'd say zinc."

"What about the symbols: d'you recognise them?"

"Not even sure it's a proper language." Raz replied, squinting at one of the images.

"Two men have been murdered, Raz. Deciphering this is the key to finding out who killed them."

"What, and this is all you've got to go on?" He wondered, looking back at Sherlock, "It's hardly much, now, is it?"

"Listen, we haven't got all day. Are you going to help us or not?" I voiced, just wanting to get a clear answer from him. Raz paused, meeting my eyes, as if thinking it through.

"I'll ask around."

"Somebody must know something about it."

"Oi!" A voice pierced through the air, causing all four of us to look round and witness two community support officers hurrying towards us. Sherlock instantly grabs the phone from Raz and I hastily run off in the other direction. No way was I getting into trouble because of him.

I stop running when I'm in the street opposite the gallery, mixing in with the crowds of people. I try to catch my breath and glance besides me, seeing Sherlock as he came to a halt. I furrow my brows.

"Where's John?"

Sherlock looked behind him, realising he wasn't there. "Community officers probably got to him."

"The blithering idiot," I mumbled, "He probably just stood there."

"Come on, we've got to go." Sherlock asserted, beginning to walk ahead. I watched after him with hesitation, before quickly catching up with him.

"But what about John?" I asked, feeling bad for leaving him behind.

"He's a grown man, Eleanor. He'll be just fine." He assured. And although I knew John would be pissed, I decided to follow after Sherlock.