Charlotte drained the last drop of coffee and slid the empty cup toward Russell. "Alright, that's enough teasing. Pour me another drink, Assistant."
Russell shrugged, took the empty cup, and brewed a fresh, fragrant pot for her. "So, what's the next step?" he asked, placing the coffee in front of her. "Should we put Emily Collins' name on the wanted posters too?"
"No. Of course not." Charlotte picked up the cup and gently blew on the surface. "Emily Collins holds the key to finding Billson. How could we possibly issue an arrest warrant for her? If she ends up on the wanted list as well, they'll know we've already connected her to Billson. Once that happens, her going into hiding becomes trivial. The worst-case scenario is Billson simply abandoning her."
Charlotte took a sip. "Emily Collins was Billson's safe haven—his eyes and hands. He could use her to contact the outside world, and in turn, we can use her to locate him. In short, what we're doing right now… is building a long-term strategy?"
Russell understood.
"Hmm."
Charlotte gave a small nod. "Let's ask Inspector Lestrade to reduce patrols in Southwark and create the illusion that tension in the district has eased. That might make him drop his guard and prompt Emily Collins—or Billson himself—to make a move."
As she spoke, she stood and walked over to the map on the notice board. "Southwark's security level and cost of living are already beyond what Billson and Emily Collins can afford right now."
The main task was to have Lestrade's plainclothes officers keep close watch on three specific areas: Bermondsey, Rotherhithe, and Woolwich.
Tobacco vendors especially needed attention. If Billson wanted cigarettes, he almost certainly wouldn't buy them himself—his face was far too distinctive. No one in Southwark could fail to recognize him, so he would almost certainly send Emily Collins instead.
In other words, all they had to do was watch for tobacco sellers who had recently sold cigarettes to a woman.
"Smoking isn't exactly common among women, but it's not nonexistent either, right?" Russell said. "Especially in places like Bermondsey or Rotherhithe. For people living there, smoking is one of the few ways to relieve stress, regardless of gender."
"But Emily Collins is special, isn't she?" Charlotte countered. "Given her looks and bearing, she'd stand out in Bermondsey or Rotherhithe like a glowing firefly. She can't help but attract attention."
Charlotte folded her arms and leaned against the information wall. "Even if quite a few women buy cigarettes, they're all regulars. But a young, beautiful woman who clearly doesn't belong in that kind of neighborhood, buying the cheapest cigarettes—five for a penny? If you were the vendor, would you forget her after seeing her once?"
"No," Russell admitted honestly, shaking his head. "I can only say I'm not entirely convinced this counts as the master's mission."
"You're right." Charlotte shrugged. "As long as Lestrade's people are reasonably competent, finding them is only a matter of time."
"…That does seem to be the case." Russell nodded thoughtfully.
"This is elementary, my dear."
Charlotte corrected him, then turned and walked back to the sofa, sitting down again.
"Actually, I was planning to go to Woolwich myself," she said suddenly, still holding the coffee cup. Russell looked puzzled. "What for?"
"To Emily Collins' apartment, of course. Moriarty's already been there once, but I still want to see it with my own eyes. There might be something new to discover."
"Then why was the idea dropped?"
"It wasn't dropped," Charlotte said carefully. "It was shelved."
"Why?"
"We don't know if Emily Collins might suddenly return to check on the place. If she realizes someone's been there, she'll become unnecessarily suspicious."
Russell raised an eyebrow as if something had occurred to him. "Moriarty went there once before… and rummaged through the trash, didn't he? Is that what you mean?"
"If all he did was go through the trash, it's not that serious," Charlotte replied after a moment's thought. "Besides, the area already has poor security. Even if someone got caught, the neighbors would at most think some petty scheme was afoot."
Russell let out a small sigh of relief, then recalled the scene. Judging by the state of the room and the contents of the trash can, Emily Collins hadn't returned in days. She hadn't gone back to the apartment, nor had she rented a new one. Where could the two of them be hiding?
Russell frowned.
"What are you thinking about?" Charlotte snapped her fingers twice in front of him. Russell blinked and shook his head. "Nothing. I was just wondering where those two could be hiding."
"Southwark is huge. Hiding two people isn't difficult."
Charlotte stood up. "Rather than wasting time on that, I'd prefer to think about how to make two fried eggs tomorrow."
"Any other plans?" Russell asked.
"One side sweet, the other fully cooked," Charlotte said.
Russell stared at her in silence.
"…Is it really that hard?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "If it's too difficult, just cook them both fully. I don't mind."
"No, I'm just impressed," Russell said, shaking his head. "How do you make testing your luck sound so poetic? Don't tell me this is what they call basic deductive reasoning."
Charlotte ignored the sarcasm, picked up her still-steaming coffee, and sipped it slowly. Russell sighed and gave up. "I knew it."
He yawned. "I'm going to rest. You should too. If you stay up too late and oversleep, breakfast will be delayed."
"I know without you reminding me." Charlotte waved him off.
Left alone, Charlotte flipped through a few pages of documents without really seeing them. When the room fell quiet, she set the papers down, looked toward the door, and remembered what Vanessa had said to her that day.
"Control the variables…?"
The girl murmured softly. "This variable isn't as easy to control as I thought…"
…
…
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