Look out for the <>!

To be honest, there was such an odd feeling being alone again. It had only been only three days but it felt like so much longer. I used to like this feeling of being alone but now I hated it. I was lonely and homeless. I was a ghost in the wind and I felt like any moment, I would blow away.

The only things I still had with me were my locket that my mother gave me and the clothes on my back, that were starting to smell. I thought about cashing in the money that my mum gave me but that meant I would have to go to the bank and that would set off alarms. 

This was not the life I planned on having when I died but it gave me incentive to get this mystery solved so I could return to normal life, or a kind of normal life. I wanted my life in Baker street.

I flipped through the pages of a book in front of me at the library. I stopped at a page as I read it in details. After three days in the library, I finally found something. Through my blood shot eyes and my lack of sleep stupor I had happened to stumble upon a list of German war refugees that made London their home. Not only did this list give names but it also gave small stories and photos about their lives. I smiled, I think I finally found the jackpot.

After I flipped through a few more pages, I stumbled upon a picture of a man with land deeds in his hands. Below the photo explained that this man owned loads of houses after he served in the war. His name was Klaus Dunner. It wasn't a German name but he could have changed it when he moved to London after the war. He came to London at the same time Aaron did. He lived only a couple blocks from Aaron and he was rich with houses. I took a photo of the page and sent it to Sherlock. This could be the man.

<>

This was the first time I had sent any form of communication to Sherlock since I had thrown myself into the water. I wondered if he was thinking about me just as much as I about him. I wondered if he would text me back soon because I really wanted to talk to him. 

Happy with what I had figured out, I decided to call it a night. I closed the book and started off on my marry way to find somewhere to sleep. Maybe McDonalds this night, I needed a shower at some point too, maybe I could sneak into a gym and use their showers. 

As I got out of the library, I saw red and blue lights flashing down the road. Without thinking about the consequences I walked down that same road, as the lights called me closer. I stopped across the road from the crime scene and saw Donvan with her sour face  looking at a body on the sidewalk. 

There were a few other people but someone I was surprised to see was Sherlock with John who was looking as clueless as ever. Sherlock looked at me for a brief second then touched his pocket as if telling me he got the message then looked back at the body, pretending that I was just a bystander he didn't care about. I had no idea why John was with Sherlock. Did Sherlock need someone there to annoy at all times? 

John looked up at me and we made eye contact. I looked at his blue eyes with a frown. I couldn't look away. I was a statue caught in his graze. I didn't know why I couldn't look away. Maybe it was because deep down, I wanted him to know I was here, alive. He looked over at Sherlock, trying to grab his attention, breaking eye contact freed me and I quickly started walking down the road again hoping that I didn't make a scene. 

<><>

"You shouldn't keep running into crime scenes like last night. John thinks he's losing his mind. He registered that you were Rori last night even with your pink hair. He wouldn't drop it all the way to the flat until I told him that I saw you dead body at the hospital and I didn't want to talk about it anymore," Sherlock said to me as we walked down an empty road the next day.

I frowned at him. "It's not like I was trying to get recognized," I said to him plainly as I flipped my pink hair out of my face.

"If you're going to tell him you're still alive you better do it soon before the bridge to is too broken to repair and I'm not just talking about John. You know Kale came to me, I had never talked to him before but he found me, asked if it was true about you, dead."

I thought about Kale. He moved here for me, and now this. I couldn't bring Kale into this, he had spent so long getting free of his brother. And after he just got a solid job? No, I couldn't do that to him. I bit the inside of my mouth and changed the subject not wanting to talk about it any longer. "So did they find the dummy yet?"

Sherlock nodded at me. "They did yesterday. The water eroded any chance to see any resemblance between you two. Lestrade wants to talk in person. He probably wants to give the news in public."

This was harder than I ever thought possible. I didn't want to be dead. I wanted to go home to 221B Baker street. I wanted my old life. "Klaus. I'm still trying to find out more on him, but seems impossible to find this man. He must really hate visitors, like you. I can't say where this compass is but I think Klaus will have a good guess." I downed the rest of my hot chocolate that warmed my whole body.

"Have you found a place to stay at yet?" he asked as he looked at his phone again. 

"Who is texting you now?" 

"My brother."

After all the time I had spent with Sherlock, I had never once met Mycroft. From what I heard, he was a nightmare. "I'm staying at the hotel grand by Harrods." I haven't had a real bed to sleep on in days. That was the last thing I needed to worry about right now. If I stayed somewhere consistently every night I would be easier to find. At least this way it was easier to keep hidden.

Sherlock stopped walking. That was a terrible lie and he knew it but instead of stating the obvious like he always did, he took out a single silver key from his black coat pocket. "Here take this. It's for a small flat in Brixton that I own. It's yours."

I shook my head. "No I can't take that."

"You haven't taken more than a nap in what, five days? Your eyes are red. You're slurring your words ever so slightly from lack of sleep and you still smell of river water. You need a place to rest and take a real shower, not just getting caught in the cold rain. You stick out this way more than you would if you stayed in constant spot."

"Thank you." I said as I took the keys from him. I smiled at him thankfully, he was right, I needed somewhere to sleep so I could think clearly. Living like this was only going to slow me down.

<><><>

"Ah ha!" I shouted at the computer that I was using at the library. Finally, after days of searching, I found where Klaus worked at. I was still amazed that he was working because of his age. 

I jotted his address down on a post-it note. I wanted to meet him at his office without Sherlock's help. Sherlock seemed so busy the past few days with dealing with my death, I didn't want to bother him with this. I already had a plan in place. I was going to act like I was some one important and go from there. 

Conveniently, his office was close to the library and after a short 15-minute walk, I stood in front of his building. I walked with confidence into the huge building that Klaus owned trying to act like I was someone that should be there. My pink hair was pulled up into a bun so the pink didn't stand out. "I'm looking for a man by the name of Klaus," I said with an American accent to the receptionist behind the desk.

She looked up at me from the book she was reading. "May I ask who is wanting to speak to him?" she asked with a sour face as if I just ruined her whole day.

"I am trying to sell my property that's next to the national gallery. I'm leaving for Florida tomorrow so I want a meeting with him about it." I fixed my glasses, acting as if I didn't have time for any of this.

Her face twisted as she thought about it then said, "He'll be free in an hour." 

I smiled at her kindly then went to find a seat, reading a magazine as I waited. I watched the time tick by and before long an hour had gone and soon it was two. I quickly found myself asking why I was even here. I was following the rules like a good girl. But, I wasn't a good girl. I was dead, I didn't have to follow anyone's rules. I could hack onto the government website and find where he lived. 

With a sigh of wasted time, I stood up and walked out of the office without another word. I quickly started back to the library which seemed to be where I was spending much of my time.

I went to my normal spot in front of the computer. My hands flew over a keyboard as I hacked into the database. Within a matter of minutes, I was able to get the address of Klaus. 

I knew that I couldn't keep on using the computers like this since it would set off red flags for Scotland Yard and Sherlock's brother. Sherlock had informed me to stay sharp because Mycroft was tracking my case as well and Mycroft was the last person I needed in this mess. He could mess up everything Sherlock and I worked for just by his shear ignorance.

I thought about ways I could get Klaus as I walked down an almost empty street. I could always break into his house and get him that way. But I didn't want to attack him like Zane would do because I wasn't Zane. I wanted to be polite; I wanted him to trust me. After all, I just wanted to talk to him.

I got on the closest tube station and took it to the house that was on record and waited until on the footstep of the next house over. I watched people pass me and taxis went nowhere for what seemed like hours and just as I was about to leave for the night, I saw a black cab pull up to the side. A small fragile man came out of the cab and paid the driver. This was the man I wanted.

I made sure the cab was gone before I stepped out into the open to talk to him. "Mr. Kappelhoff?" I asked him as I walked up to him.

He stopped fumbling with his keys then turned to face me slowly as if he knew this dreaded moment was coming. "I haven't heard that in years." 

"That's what Aaron called you wasn't it?" I asked him trying to be as friendly as I could.

A small smile flickered on his face as if he was remembering all the good times. "who's asking?"

"Just a girl on the search for truth."

He waged a finger at me with a frown. "That 'truth' will ruin your life."

That statement ran all too true for me. "I have no more life to ruin. A man is adamant about making sure I have nothing to live for. That's why I'm trying to stop him from hurting my fellow coworkers like he did me."

"No," he said bluntly to me as he turned away from me.

I put my hand on his shoulder. He couldn't just push me away, I was not going to take no as an answer. "Please. It's not for me. I don't care about the treasure. I'm doing this to stop someone from gaining too much power."

"Like I haven't heard that before," he laughed cynically. 

"Have you? You've kept this a secret for so long. Not many people know about it. I've been doing white collar crimes for years and I just found out about this recently. Don't you want if not you, but someone honest to find it?"

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

"I would like to see you try to surprise me."

He looked up at the gray London sky and wrapped his coat around his body, "Come inside its cold." He opened the door to his house, and I followed him inside. "I don't get many visitors now a day," he explained as he led me into his large kitchen. "You like tea?"

"Love some, thanks." I said to him kindly as I looked around at the garnet counter tops and beautiful kitchen appliances. This place was huge for an old man that didn't get many visitors. It made me wonder if he was always the man he is now or if he had more of an exciting life when he was younger.

"What's your first question?" his nimble hands picked out what tea to have from a box next to the sink.

I didn't know how to ask the first question. I honestly, didn't think I would get in so easily. "I guess the first question is how did this all start? How did the idea of making a treasure first come to your mind?"

He sighed and wrinkled his nose as he thought; it was like I could almost see the gears in his head turn. After a minute of silence he started his long story. "It wasn't that I wanted to be in war. I hated the fighting. War brings nothing good. I was drafted and got into a group of young men that loved causing heartache and misery to everyone. I didn't like it but I had no choice in to follow what everyone else was doing. I had to admit that after a while, I started to enjoy it myself. We would serve our country by day and plunder by night. Eventually we acquired a large amount of belongings and one man in my group devised a plan to store all of these items on a ship so once the war was over, we could take it and live like kings."

I had heard this part of the story before. "That didn't happen though, did it?"

A frown came on his face as the kettle started to howl. He walked over to the stove and turned it off then poured some the boiling water in each cup. "We were called to the front lines. Our first time and the American and British forces greatly outnumbered us. Our leaders lead us to our deaths knowingly. Every one of those men in my battalion died that day, leaving me the last survivor of the fortune."

"And that's when you met Aaron."

"Yes. That was when I did meet Aaron. He was a good man, something about those eyes. It made me want to trust him. So I told my story. Sadly we had only one compass that guided our way to the boat and that was handled by a man no older than 17. Brilliant he was, came up for the idea and made the compass work. He died in that fight with the Americans and British and the compass was lost."

"You needed his help to find to boat again, didn't you?" I said as I sipped my tea.

"I needed a new companion. He became my best friend and I followed him back London. We continued trying to find this compass that didn't point north but we never did find it and eventually Aaron became bitter because of all the time wasted. I lost my friendship because of it."

"Now if there was just a compass that guided you to the boat shouldn't someone has found it by now? Or found it without the compass?"

I saw a small smile come to his lips because he knew something I didn't. "You need a key as well. The door to the submarine won't open without the key."

"What does that look like? Or do you know where it's that?" This was going to be impossible to find.

"It's hidden in plain sight inside a museum in London. Aaron found it. He told me about his find but he never told me anything more than that. But at that point I had given up the hunt as well." He looked at his watch as if he had somewhere better to be and took another drink of his tea.

He looked as if he had another meeting or he was just not willing to tell anything else tonight. "You're not going to tell me anything more are you?"

"Maybe next time you visit."

I understood why he was such a busy man now. He was alone. No kids, no wife, no friends, no family. He was still working because he didn't know what else to do with this time. Instead of anger that flowed threw me like it normally would in a situation where I didn't get the whole story, I felt sympathy. "I think Aaron has forgiven you now. I don't know how much more time he has. You should go seem him."

"I don't know what to say to him."

"Be his friend. Talk to him." With that I slipped my coat and left his house for the night.