It did not surprise Sadji that it took Sherlock a few days to come around to Menouthis. His post had 'blown up', as the kids said, and everyone wanted the detective's attention. It was rather hilarious. Sadji was alerted as soon as there was someone acting strange in the building and she (for today) watched from the security office as Sherlock Holmes poked his nose into each section of the building. The corners her mouth twitched into a vague sort of smile and she patted the shoulder of her security guard as she casually made her way upstairs to her office to prepare while Holmes was down in Duat.
The host that Sherlock had spoken to did not directly fetch Sadji. Instead, a young man in a perfectly tailored, all-black suit appeared. It seemed very much like Sadji collected beautiful people. "I shall escort you, Mr. Holmes," was all the young man said in a distinct Parisian accent. The assistant led the way back towards the stairs but instead pressed the button for the elevator - after all, things had to be wheelchair accessible. But like the rest of the building, it was impeccably clean. Once inside, he inserted a key into the control panel and pressed a button that was simply labeled 'OF' for office. There was no music in the lift and the ride was short as they had only gone up two floors. After the doors opened to an entry way of deep red, dimly lit with only two heavy, dark oak doors at the end, he removed the key and led the way once more.
He was about to knock when a young woman, pale and blonde, slipped out of the office doors. Her clothing didn't leave much to the imagination and she waved timidly to Sadji's assistant before scooting down the hallway to the left of the doors. She didn't look like one of the strippers and there was what appeared to be small puncture wounds on the inside of her left thigh. The assistant waved a bit stupidly after her with one of those grins that said he was definitely smitten but hadn't exactly acted on it. But then he cleared his throat, remembering the task at hand. He opened both doors for Sherlock and then moved out of the way, simply gesturing him inside.
The office itself was the tip of the pyramid and one side was entirely a large window looking out on the city. There was a massive desk right in front of it, old and mahogany with a very nice computer on top. The walls were lined with shelves and the shelves were decorated with things that quite frankly should have been in museums - ancient trinkets and art that had likely never been seen before. Along with that were books from every era with the newest being a thin, unnamed thing that was filled with handwritten poetry. The oldest were clay tablets with lost languages printed on them. There was even a very fat scroll that, if one knew one's history, was from the library in Alexandria. In front of the desk was a pair of more modern sofas and a coffee table.
Sadji was perched on the edge of her desk, smiling casually with her legs crossed daintily. Her hair had been straightened for the day and pinned up and the dress was form fitting and definitely vintage. Everything was vintage actually. Each piece from the era it looked like it should have been and they were tailored to Sadji's never changing body in ways that showed they hadn't ever been taken in. "Did you have fun poking around, Mister Holmes? Learn anything interesting?"