"Ah! Juliette, I take it?" Sherlock asked politely. John was slightly taken aback at the friendliness, but didn't comment.
"Yes. And you're Mr Holmes?" Juliette said, smiling. Suddenly, she seemed to straighten up, before bending down to take off her shoes.
"Just call me Sherlock." John suppressed a snigger at the expression on his friend's face. Sherlock narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.
"Okay. Is Gran around?" Juliette asked, raking her pale fingers through her hair and patting her pockets. John could see Sherlock's eyes roaming around, observing everything about the girl. He couldn't help feeling jealous of his friend's extraordinary talents.
"You mean Mrs Hudson?" She nodded, "Yes. She's downstairs in her flat. Oh, and I think you'll find your phone in the top pocket of your jacket. Just saying." Juliette's mouth started to open as she fumbled for the zipper on the pocket. Sure enough, she pulled out a sleek, red Nokia Lumia. Sherlock closed his eyes and smiled as Juliette said: "How...what the...?" John decided he ought to step in.
"It's his job. Now, there are two flights of stairs down to your Gran's flat, love." He pointed to the door and turned back as she traipsed slowly downwards, still shaking her head.
"So...are you going to tell me now or should I come back in five minutes?" John gave Sherlock a knowing look.
"Oh, I couldn't help it! I mean, it was plain as day, John, I'm surprised you didn't catch it!" John rolled his eyes.
"Well, I didn't. So how did you know?" He watched, sighing as Sherlock reclined in the chair and began to relay the information: "Pained expression, obviously worried about something, but what? Well, she's a teenage girl, so it won't be anything particularly major, however, it's likely to involve her parents, seeing as she has just left them to stay in a house with only one familiar face. So, what would she worry about? She kept on staring at the clock and then looking at the phone in my pocket. So she needed to ring someone probably, but she couldn't find her phone - she was constantly patting her pockets to find it- and it's likely to be her mum or dad, you know, 'ring me when you've arrived' kind of scenario. I could see her phone in her top pocket, but she had obviously forgotten about it, seeing as she never thought to check it. All I did was remind her it was there."
"Pretty good." Sherlock raised an eyebrow: "Thanks."
"Anything else you 'deduced' from her appearance?" John asked.
"Not much. Well, apart from that she has a tabby cat, lots of friends, gets bored at school, walks around a lot, strict household, spender, not saver, chews gum-"
"Woah, woah, okay, I get it!" Sherlock looked at John and said, pleadingly: "Please let me show off! I need to let it out and I don't have a case to solve!" John purposefully took his time before answering.
"Hmm, well, I'm not sure...go on then."
"Finally! Well, on her hand, which I will say gave me most of the information, she had 'Feed Tabby' written. You can't get an animal other than a cat that can be a tabby, so it's a cat. And they called it Tabby. How boringly human of them...anyway, also on her hand she had over twenty girls' names with hearts beside them. Obviously she doesn't love them all, so they're friends and if she has enough close friends to write twenty names, I'd say she has an even wider outside circle. She probably doodled them on when bored in class."
"Right, okay...carry on."
When she took off her shoes, she had a worn heel from walking a lot. No blisters, which show that her feet are either used to walking or barely ever do it, but the worn heel suggests the former. Next, you could see the realisation on her face before she removed her shoes, meaning she is obviously scolded if such a thing doesn't happen at home, meaning it's a strict household. She had expensive clothes, but her family isn't rich, which I already knew, so she obviously bought most of her clothes herself. They're expensive brands, so she must splash what money she has about. She had gum in the same pocket of her phone. Let's just say that one was a little obvious." John just sat down on the couch.
"I get it."
The room was extremely dark, making it hard for Jim to see clearly his surroundings. However, he was here to watch the clip, not to stare at the walls all night.
"Have you set it up?" His Irish accent was strong, but it didn't stop him from putting on the most ordinary British accent possible. No-one noticed the slight hint of Ireland hidden beneath it.
"Yes, Sir. If you would like to...feast your eyes on this..." The man was so scared, Jim could feel it. He smirked it the shadows as the clip began to run.
Sherlock was stood in his flat, talking to John Watson. Jim could see that they obviously didn't know the camera was even there. He grinned again. Not even the cleverest rival he'd ever had could come close to matching him. He then saw the girl. Perfect. She was young and unsuspecting. Boring as well, he supposed, but, then again, everyone was.
Now, all he had to do was take her.