[Well, then. At least Sherlock is going to be laid up for a while. That should give Lestrade time to come to them. He glances over at Sherlock, wondering if he really should be the one driving considering the man is in mild respiratory distress that's only going to get worse. It is what it is for right now. Hopefully, they can get to the flat quickly.]

After I left the Diogenes Club, I got the messages from the Alphabet Woman. We set up a meeting at a Starbucks on Oxford Street. Mycroft didn't seem like he was keen to offer a ride, and I ended up faking a heart condition to get a kid named Jake to give me a ride over there. We'd stopped a light a couple of blocks from the Thames and the Alphabet Woman just... got in.

She had a gun with her and told Jake to start driving. [John closes his eyes, trying to dredge up details.] She was wearing a hoodie, panda bear on the front, crucifix, and hoop earrings, along with her wedding ring. Cross-dominant shot, probably after the accident. She was holding the gun left-handed. Somerset accent, but... it was like she was putting on an act at first. Accent got rougher as things went along.