The Blind Banker: Chapter 6

                                    

                                          
"Do we really have to go talk to him again, Sherlock?" You complained as you, Sherlock, and John made your way into a classy restaurant where Sebastian was. You didn't want to have to go to Sebastian with the information you'd come across thus far. You didn't want anything to do with the man.
                          
"Well, he did hire us... so yes. He should know one of his employees has been murdered." Sherlock said scanning the room for Seb. The restaurant was very fancy; with elegant tablecloths draped over the tables, and classical music playing lightly over the speakers. People chatted and laughed at jokes that probably weren't even funny. It made you want to throw up in your mouth. You never did like being around the common rich folk, you found a majority of them to be extremely rude and annoying. You scanned the tables, having fun deducing everyone when Sherlock suddenly made a sharp turn away from you and John. 
                          
Your eyes followed after Sherlock and you saw he was headed towards a table where Seb sat with multiple other people sitting around him. They were all laughing, one slapping the table as he bent forward in laughter, his face cherry red. It looked like complete bogus to you, but then again you never really could tell.
                          
Sherlock walked promptly up to the table, stopping to say, "It was a threat. That's what the graffiti meant." Seb looked up at Sherlock, placing his spoon down to grab his glass. The entire table stared at the three of you as you stood there. You could read all of their looks easily. Every last one of them were wondering who you were and why you had interrupted their meeting. 
                          
"I'm kind of in a meeting. Can you make an appointment with my secretary?" Seb said, looking annoyed as he took a sip of water. You sighed greatly, sliding into an empty seat of the booth they were sitting at. You took an untouched glass from the table sipping it, basically to get their attention. All the men at the table stared at you in shock. Attention achieved.
                          
"I don't think this can wait. Sorry Sebastian." You smiled sarcastically, patting him on the shoulder. That got you a weird look. "One of your traders, someone who works in your office, was killed." You finished, bluntly.
                          
"What?" Seb asked unbelievably, staring at you then looking up at Sherlock. Sherlock nodded, confirming what you had said.
                          
"Van Coon. The police are at his flat." John told him with a stoney expression.
                          
"Killed?" Seb asked, the color draining from his face, glass held midway for another sip.
                          
"Sorry to interfere with everyone's digestion. Still want me to make an appointment? Okay. Would maybe nine o'clock at Scotland Yard suit?" Sherlock raised his voice, glancing at some of the other tables. You nodded at Sherlock as you watched Seb's facial reaction. He slammed down his glass, looking extremely uncomfortable. He finally agreed to talk to the three of you in a quiet area of the restaurant- a place obscured from customers.
                          
"Harrow, Oxford. Very bright guy." Seb told you sadly, shaking his head as he said this. This was the first time all day he didn't sound like everything revolved around him. "Worked in Asia for awhile, so... " He trailed off, tucking his hands into his pockets. You studied him looking over to Sherlock, who was concentrating on Seb. A rather sad, but focused expression was etched on Sherlock's face.
                          
"You gave him the Hong Kong accounts?" John asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
                          
Seb glanced at John for a moment, before he looked out a window that was behind the three of you. "Lost five million in a single morning, made it all back a week later." He stopped to look over the three of you before he said, "Nerves of steel, Eddie had."
                          
"Who'd want to kill him?" John inquired.
                          
"We all make enemies." Seb told John while rearranging his suit jacket.
                          
"We don't all end up with a bullet through our temples." John stated, staring at Seb.
                          
"Not usually." Just then, Seb's phone went off and he reached into his pocket to retrieve it. "Excuse me." He looked over the screen while the three of you were all staring at the phone held in his hands.
                          
"It's my chairman." He paused. "The police have been on to him." He looked up at you then Sherlock saying, "Apparently they're telling him it was a suicide." You sighed, pressing a finger to your forehead.
                          
"Well, they've got it wrong, Sebastian. He was murdered." Sherlock told him. You just hoped that for once, this man would listen.
                          
"Well, I'm afraid they don't see it like that."
                          
"Seb!" Sherlock interjected, his eyebrows furrowed. You shook your head, right when you thought he'd be decent he just returned to his cycle.
                          
"And neither does my boss." Seb said quickly, before Sherlock could inject again.
                          
"Sebastian, listen, for your information the police aren't right. They have this little uptight detective running the case right now, and he's too arrogant to take our advice at the moment." You said through gritted teeth, staring at Seb. He looked at you, rolling his eyes.
                          
"I hired Sherlock to do a job, not bring along his little hot headed girlfriend." Seb looked to Sherlock before stating, "Don't get sidetracked." And he left the three of you to look at each other blankly. You crossed your arms, your face heating up as you watched him leave. You took a deep breath, smoothing out your coat as you urged your brain to cool itself down. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you thought in frustration as you again thought about the brain scans. Sebastian would pay for that once he realized you were right all along. 
                          
"I thought bankers were all supposed to be heartless bastards." John stated, watching Seb go. Sherlock looked a bit angry, but let it immediately drain from his face. You felt your face flushing up, and you rolled your eyes in annoyance.
                          
"Don't take it to heart, Y/n." Sherlock told you placing his hand on the small of your back as the three of you made your way from the building. You looked surprised at Sherlock before you uncrossed your arms, flattening out your coat again to do something with your hands.
                          
"I'm not. No emotions, remember?" You reminded him, walking ahead to leave him and John behind. Secretly, you were wondering why you really were taking Seb's words to heart... the brain scans came back to mind as you inwardly cursed, shoving the thoughts away.