They end up walking through St. James Park, keeping a careful eye on the shadows between the tree. As they pass by the duck pond, Sherlock takes a look at the few souls who seem to think that this hour of the night is appropriate for feeding ducks.

"I think today's been a bit messy, politically. "

It's a bit of a non-sequiter, even for Sherlock, so John feels that his current facial expression is a bit justified.

Sherlock notices, and, (for once), explains. "It's a well-known fact among certain circles that the duck pond in St James' Park has been the neutral meeting ground for any and all secret agents and spies in London since… well, since there was a pond. "

He points. "The tall one in the greatcoat standing by that tree? Russian. He's talking to a Chinese agent. Belarus is negotiating with America over there, and that's an Italian talking to one of Mycroft's men."

John starts at this. "One of Mycroft's? Shouldn't we be going then?"

"No reason to. Again, this place is neutral; no assassinations or arrests happen within the boundaries of the park. Outside it, on the other hand… well, no one plays dirty like a spy."

"Good to know. Maybe we'll come here more often."