Welcome to Baker Street

93. Starry night

Hickman Gallery

When they visit the exhibition, Giulia can hardly contain her enthusiasm. She gapes at the elegance of the gallery, stares at the stylish outfits of the guests, and twirls from one work on display to the other, grinning from ear to ear. A feeling of nostalgic familiarity overwhelms her in front of such events and crowds. As the daughter of a foreign diplomat, she was born in a world of high dignitaries and wonderful galas, and now she has one more chance of being a part of it. One more night to forget that she doesn't belong to that enchanted kingdom anymore. One more night to pretend that that part of her life isn't lost for good.

Sherlock smiles faintly at her euphoria as his eyes follow her briefly before he gets lost in thought, deep inside the labyrinth of his mind.

At some point, Giulia walks up to him and whispers softly in his ear, "Sherlock, you've been standing perfectly still in front of the only empty wall in the whole gallery for ten minutes. I understand you are in your mind palace, but could you please shift your rapt, pensive look to some artwork and feign interest? These people might talk."

He jumps back to reality with a grimace of despair and grumbles at her mundane concerns. "These people aren't trying to solve a homicide."

She doesn't give up. "If you keep chasing the same thought in your head, you will never get to the right answer. The human brain is more likely to find a solution when it is busy doing something else. Trust me: take a break and get distracted."

"Distracted?" he scoffs. "You forget that my brain is always on high alert, even when I wouldn't want it to. Nothing happens in here without me noticing."

Giulia ironically cocks a brow at him and thinks, I am standing in front of you, all dressed up, not a care in the world other than having a lovely evening together, and you've barely glanced at me since we got here. Not really that observant, if you ask me.

He notices the sarcastic expression painted on her face and frowns.

"You want me to prove it? Fine. I have counted 137 people so far: 71 men, 66 women, and that's only for the guests. 21 servers are managing the reception in the hall, and I estimate there must be no less than 3 chefs and 7 sous-chefs in the kitchen, as part of the catering service."

"Alright, you've just proven you can count with very big numbers," she mocks him. "Should we move to the next room of the exhibition?"

Sherlock raises a brow at her, disappointed. "You don't seem impressed."

She smiles softly at him. "You always impress me, Sherlock, but yours is a solo exercise. No one can compete or play together with you on observational skills."

He stares at her for a couple of seconds before grasping the veiled sadness in her words.

"Would you like to try it?" he proposes with a sly grin.

She looks surprised. "You want to humiliate me?"

"No. I want to work out deductions with you. I'll guide you through the logical steps," he suggests kindly, casting off his condescending tone for the first time in his life.

"Let's pick the couple of people that introduced themselves to us half an hour ago. They are currently standing to your left," he kicks off without even stealing a look in said direction. "What can you tell me about them?" he encourages her.

Giulia glances discreetly at those two people. "First, they aren't extremely meticulous people since they showed up late to this elegant gala. I'm sure about that because they arrived at the gallery at the same time as us, and we entered altogether."