Sherlock looks up to the surveillance camera as he realizes what's going on.
"Face recognition." he whispered to himself. Mr. Poirot must have submit his picture to the receptionist, if there is a person with the same face enters the building, the security is alerted and they may act as the tenants wish them to do. The one thing that alarming in this situation is that Mr. Poirot acknowledges him and knows one day Sherlock would want to come and meet him. How do he knows that?
Sherlock steps into a perfectly clean and white floors. As he searchs for flat 203, a door is open and a man in a suit call out to him.
"Right this way, Mr. Holmes."
Amazed Sherlock enters the flat, notices the number is indeed 203.
Sherlock hands his coat to the butler who called out to him. The flat was exceptionally clean and the one thing he notices is that nothing unbalanced are presence in that residence. If there is a lamp in one side of the room, there must be another one across it. The vase, the hanging lamp, all of them is perfectly centered. Even the bookshelf is mirroring each other. Sherlock smiles, Mycroft must be joyfully happy living here.
The sound of metal wheels turns Sherlock around. And at right that moment he remembers, as a growing teenager, he reads about all the news of Hercule Poirot. About the train from Istanbul which was trapped in the snow with a killer. Well, turns out to be multiple killer. The murder on the river Nile, a murder that was taken from an alphabet list of a phone book, and all his other labours.. all of them had driven Sherlock to become what he has become in the now.
A man in the wheel chair, there's no doubt he is the one, Hercule Poirot. The only way he can moves around is by the help of his butler. The only odd thing in that flat, is the owner mustache which is shiny black under his nose. His hair is also brightly black contradicting with his heavily wrinkled face and skinny arm. Just one look at him, Sherlock now this isn't a guy who dyed his hair because he didn't want to loose all of his glorious days. He dyed his hair and his mustache black because that is the only perfection he can accepts.
For a while they are glancing at each other, more like reading each other.
"Mr. Poirot, is it?" Sherlock finally greet.
The old man in the wheel chair smiles. "Yes, indeed. Delightfull to see you, Mr. Holmes. I hope you don't mind if I'm not standing and shake your hand."
Sherlock looking at him unsure what to say.
"Would you like some tea or coffee, Mr. Holmes?" The butler parked Mr. Poirot wheelchair right in front of the dining table.
Sherlock watches as he put perfectly square shaped sugar into the coffee. And his eyes.. that eyes has caught so many criminals in the past. And even he, Sherlock has to respect that eyes by not pulling any kind of tricks.
"I'm so sorry for my entrance before." Sherlock admits "It was a silly habit."
Hercule Poirot lift his eyes and look at Sherlock. "Ah, please. It is me who need to apologize. I hope you understand as an old man you don't have much time anymore. So please consider the event before as a way for me to safe time." he explained with an accent. Even though he has lived in Britain for quite a while but his accent is still there to stay.
Sherlock answered with gesturing a bow.
"Please do sit down." he offered. Sherlock accept the invitation as he observes the impressive table setting. The tea cup handles are all pointed to the same direction. And the the flower ornament on the tea pot, the tea cups and the tray are all also facing the same direction. There's no need to explain where the tea spoons are pointed at, they all are perfectly aligned.
"If you don't mind me asking, "Sherlock said, "How do you know I was about to come here to see you?"
Hercule Poirot nods. "I have a feeling you might want to see me."
Sherlock chuckles politely. "Please forgive my impudent, but I don't think you are a man of feels. Isn't it, Mr. Poirot? You and I know we calculated things not feels them."
Mr. Poirot answers still with a smile. "Aah please forgive me. You might not believe, but at this age I'm exercising my grey cells to feel more than to think." he explained. And now he lowers his glasses so Sherlock can see his sharp eagle eyes.
"I believe you have a question to ask, Mr. Holmes. But, I must warn you, I might not be able to answer it.. as you may know, even though we are not lawyers, but we do have client confidentiality to preserves." he warned.
Sherlock's eyes widen. "So it's true.. did she came here?"
"Who did?"
"Molly Hooper." said Sherlock without hiding behind the bush.
"I'm very sorry, there are so many people came here, but they merely use their original name sometimes.." Hercule Poirot said. "..and when they come here, they tend to ask me not to tell anything to anyone." he added.
Sherlock knows he won't get anything out the old guy like this.
"A child is missing, if you have any knowledge, or information.. please do tell us.."
Hercule Poirot quietly nods. "I see the severity of the condition you are facing Mr. Holmes. But I don't have anything I can say to you, please sent my sympathy to the parents.." He then straighten his back. "..as you must now, in all of my career as a detective, child safety is my first priority." He looks at Sherlock meaningfully at the end of the sentence.
Sherlock know now he will never get anything straight out of Mr. Poirot, it was a waste of time. But he was assured Molly did came to consult with Poirot.
"You know, I always wanted to see you in person.." Sherlock change the topic.
"And I'm glad we are here today, Mr. Holmes." he said sincerely.
"I might not be able to provide you with information, but may I offer you a little insight?" he offered.
"Please do."
"As we both know we are in the same field of expertise. The difference between you and me, is that I'm at the end of my game, while you.. you are still blooming, if I may say." Sherlock listens to Hercule Poirot's words like a student listening to his teacher.
"There's no way to proof you are better than me or the other way around.." Poirot said as he secretly knows about Sherlock's obsession. "..however I might give you a perspective, if it's not an advice.." he paused a little while. "You won't remember all the great things you have accomplished, as you may know now, the one who did the collection of your adventures is your friend downstairs.." he paused again. "What haunts you at the end are the things you never really rejoice.. or loved." Sherlock lift his eyes and they meet with Poirot's perfectly.
"Will it helps me to.."
"It's just an insight Mr. Holmes. One might use it or one might not. It's all up to you." cut Poirot.
"Thank you, for your time, Mr. Poirot. I'm afraid I have interrupted your evening." Sherlock said while standing up.
"Not at all. We old people enjoy seeing young ones, it's nice to see to whom we will inherit this world to."
Poirot last words seems to hit Sherlock. He about to put his coat on and stop midway. Slowly he averts his gaze back to Poirot.
"As you kindly offered me an insight before, I would like to gives you something in return.. as a gratitude."
Poirot doesn't answered but silently waiting for Sherlock to continue.
"Whatever it is you are planning to do, may I persuade you to cancel it.." they both stares at each other silently.
"You don't have to catch all the dragons yourself." Sherlock added.
Poirot nods a couple times, like he was satisfied with something.
"Ah that.." he said. "Unfortunately we all have our own nemesis aren't we, Mr. Holmes. But I promised you this.. it will be the last time I shall do it." He look at Sherlock with straight eyes.
Sherlock can't hide his disapointment as he looking down. "Well, that is very unfortunate..." he replied.
"I do really glad I met you Mr. Holmes. You know, how do I say this.. it gives me the opportunity to finally pull down the curtain." Mr. Poirot added. Sherlock, holding back his emotion, continue to put on his coat and walks toward the door.
"Ah, Mr. Holmes.. I forgot I was about to give you a farewell gift before." Poirot called him.
Sherlock already outside the door, waiting for Poirot to continue. The butler shoves the wheel chair to the door so Poirot can reach the door handle, as he about to be the one who closed the door on Sherlock.
"..why you were there?"
Sherlock thought he heard it wrong, but he then clearly sure those are the words Poirot said.
"I beg your pardon?"
And Poirot closed the door on him.
Leaving Sherlock blindsided. He considered to knock again but realized it is probably a waste of time.
There is no choice but to go home.