Sherlock took the letter from Lestrade and read the envelope. He looked back up surprised, "You haven't opened it?" He asked Lestrade, who shook his head on response.

"It's addressed to you, isn't it? We've X-rayed it. Not booby trapped." Lestrade explained to Sherlock, who was examining the envelope closely. He made some obscure comment about the stationary, and revealed that the letter was addressed by a female, which was apparently obvious.

He carefully opened the envelope and an iPhone tumbled out. Sherlock and John looked at the phone, shocked, while I just found their shock confusing. "What is it? I don't understand, why are you looking at the phone like that?" I asked, the three men in the room turning towards me.

"That's the pink phone," John stated.

"From 'A Study in Pink'?" Lestrade clarified.

"Well, it isn't, of course, but it's supposed to look like it-" Sherlock begins explaining before cutting himself off, looking at Lestrade, "'A Study in Pink', you read his blog?" He questions the detective inspector.

"'Course I read his blog, we all do." Lestrade gestures around, "Do you really not know the Earth goes round the Sun?" He asked, earning a snort from those around.

"Wait, you don't know the Earth goes around the Sun." I exclaim, turning to my boyfriend, perplexed by this new information. How could someone who knew everything about a person just by looking at them not know such a basic, scientific fact?

Sherlock purposefully ignores me, turning away and moving on from the subject. He explains that the phone is new but made to look like the old phone from the serial suicide case. He turned the phone on and put it on speaker.

"You have one new message", echoes around the room, followed by five 'beeps'.

"That's it?" My cousin asks, obviously confused by the cryptic message. Not that I wasn't confused, because I'm pretty sure everyone in that room was confused at this point.

"No, that's not it," Sherlock answered John, before looking back at the phone, which was now displaying a photograph of the inside of a bare, empty flat.

"What the hell are we supposed to make of that?" Lestrade began, "An estate agent's photo and the bloody Greenwich pips!"

There was a moment of silence that passed over the room before Sherlock spoke up.

"It's a warning."

"A warning?" John repeated, looking at me to see if I understood what Sherlock meant. I shook my head, as confused as he was.

Sherlock took the phone back from Lestrade and began explaining that some secret societies used to sent pips and seeds from fruit as warnings. That was what the five pips on the phone were; a warning that something was going to happen again.

"Wait, Sherlock, what's going to happen again?" I asked, taking a hold of his wrist and turning him back towards us.

"Boom!"

And with that he was gone, leaving the rest of us to rush after him before he went to far. We caught back up to him as he hailed a cab, the four of us piling in before Sherlock told the taxi driver our destination; Baker Street.

When we reach Baker Street, Sherlock jumps out of the taxi, followed by Lestrade and John. After paying the taxi driver, I follow them. We head down to the basement level, finding the door to apartment 221c. Sherlock turns and goes back up the stairs to retrieve Mrs Hudson and the key to the apartment.

Mrs Hudson begins rambling about how she couldn't sell the apartment because of the damp or something like that as she tried to find the right key. I stopped listening and found myself lost in my thoughts as Sherlock began talking again. I couldn't make out what they were saying, just that their lips were moving.

I zoned back in when Sherlock opens the door I had been leaning on, causing me to stumble. Sherlock reached out and steadied me, before turning to the newly opened apartment and heading in.

In the centre of the barren apartment was a pair of battered trainers. I could still hear Mrs Hudson talking as Sherlock shut the door in her face. "Sherlock!" I hissed at him, hitting him lightly on the shoulder. He looked down at me and shrugged before turning back to the room. I glared at the back of his head as he walked away and went to open the door to the apartment when I heard a phone start to ring.

I notice that it was the pink phone that was ringing, as Sherlock answers it and puts it on speaker. I took a few steps towards him so I could hear properly.

"Hello?" Sherlock spoke into the phone. Over the phone, I could hear a woman crying. She was whimpering and sniffling.

"Hello, sexy." She replied in shaky voice, before breaking down sobbing again.

"Who is this?" Sherlock asked.

"I've sent you a little puzzle..." the crying woman begins, her words broken up with sobs, "just to say hi."

"Who's talking? Are you crying?" Sherlock continues asking the woman questions.

"I'm not crying," the woman sobs. I look to John, who didn't seem to know any more than I did. "I'm typing." Everyone seemed dumbfounded by this statement. "And this stupid bitch..." the woman cut herself off with another gut-wrenching sob, "is reading it out."

I brought my hand up to my face, shocked to the core. I looked around to see Lestrade and John horrified by this realisation. Just as I began to look at Sherlock, the woman spoke again.

"Twelve hours to solve my puzzle, Sherlock. Or I'm going to be so naughty." The woman's sobs increased, filling the empty room. I couldn't bear to hear them anymore, covering my ears with my hands in an attempt to block out the noise. The crying suddenly cut out as the call was ended, and silence filled the room.