BBC Sherlock : Murder in Liverpool (part3)

"Excuse me sir, but you can't go in there."

Sherlock turned around from the door to the office to look at the secretary. She sat inside a round counter that trapped her. Her name was Jane, as Sherlock noted by looking at her golden name tag. She wore a standard secretary dress; white on top and black at the bottom. Although, her dress matched with her figure so she looked appealing. Jane had straight brown hair - probably straightened before work, with a red clip in it. A gift from her mother. The imprint of a thin ring was on her index finger - an ex - boyfriend and she had just broken up with him. Pity. It was as if the whole company was made up of lonely women. 

"Sir, you can't go in there," she repeated, now standing up.

Sherlock just realized that he was still holding onto the door handle and that he was staring at her for a long time. He put his hands down and brushed his hands on his coat. John was on the other side, his arms crossed, but his left hand was on his face - he was face palming.

"I'm C-," Sherlock began, " -Greg Lestrade, police officer from Scotland Yard."

Sherlock smiled and flashed her "his" police I.D.

"I've already received permission from the CEO," Sherlock explained, " In which an employee at the customer service had already called; I insist that you let my assistant and I go in."

She pursed her lips, thinking about what to do.

"But he's not inside..." she murmured, looking at the door.

John walked up to her, leaning his elbow on the counter; forcing Jane to look at him.

"Jane," he said slowly, looking at her name tag," Can't you let us go in?"

He looked up at her, causing her to look down and frantically twiddle with her thumbs.

"Um.."

John looked down at her thumbs.

"That's cute."

She quickly looked at John, puzzled.

"What's cute?" she murmured.

"The way you play with your thumbs when you're shy," John smiled.

She blushed.

"T-thank you," she stammered.

"But," John whispered," You're cute too."

She blushed feverishly, blinking rapidly.

"I just got out of a break up," she quickly stated, " So I don't think that-"

"Well he's missing out," John interrupted, taking her hands.

She looked up and stared at him, her eyes tearing up a bit.

"Would you like to get coffee with me sometimes, Jane?" John asked, " Well, after you've let us in."

She quickly yanked her hands away from him, hiding her face with one of her hands. but quickly nodded. John looked back at Sherlock and winked.

Jane sat back down and pressed something, making the door unlock with a click.

"D-Don't take too long," she mumbled.

Sherlock opened the door and walked inside, with John following behind him. When the door closed behind them, Sherlock flashed John with a raised eyebrow.

"Who'd ever thought that you'd be useful?" 

"I really wanted coffee with her, though," John smiled, " she was actually cute."

Sherlock stopped and looked around the office, taking in what could be seen. john started looking around the walls, lightly thumping the walls for a possible hollow area. The office had a warm atmosphere, with the walls painted a deep red and the lights reflecting the white floor tiles. In the center were two white leather couches that could seat four people on both sides of a small glass table. On the table was black coffee that was cold; he was gone for a while. Sherlock walked over to Erickson's desk, and noticed that there were no pictures of his daughter. Only pictures of him and another woman - most likely his wife. Erickson had no gray hairs in them though, so these pictures were old. There were no signs of his wife living in his house when John and him went to investigate, so the wife either left him or died. On the other corner of his glass desk, was a white desktop. On the screen was a bright blue page, asking for the password. Sherlock sat down in the black leather rolling chair and scooted up the the desk. Then he stretched and placed his delicate fingers on the keyboard. This will be easy.

His eyes darted around the room, taking in information.

Bookshelf on the left ; all are mostly about stocks and how eye scanners work; their eye scanners.

Pictures of his wife and him only, no daughter.

Frame behind me on a wall was a large painting of a rose.

Sherlock glanced at the drawers in the desk, and pulled them out.

Fountain pens made in Italy.

Post- it notes; red.

Red paper clips littered around in the edges of the drawer.

Oh - a folded paper. Seems old

Sherlock took the paper and opened it.

"My dearest Elizabeth," Sherlock read, getting John's attention, " I miss you with everyday, my love. Why did you leave me? The world has gotten rid of you, erasing your existence from it - but I remember you. Only I. Your daughter has forgotten all about you, the disgraceful child; How dare she? Your beauty lives on in my heart, until the day I die. - Samuel Erickson, your love. 2009"

"So his wife died," John said.

Sherlock only stayed quiet, noting that there was a small red stamp on the end of the letter. The post - its are red and the paper clips are also red. The room is painted red. A painting of a rose. Sherlock quickly took the letter and put it in his pocket, now typing in the password that he had just figured out.

MyDearestRoseElizabeth