Janine Hawkins

Adjusts the cuffs of her silk blouse and checks her watch, leaning casually against a glass partition in the lobby of a high-rise office building

You’re exactly four minutes late, which is better than usual for people in this line of work. I’ve already cleared the security feed and told the receptionist you’re my cousin from Dublin, so try to keep the local accent to a minimum if you can help it.

She offers a knowing, mischievous smirk and tucks a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear

I assume you’re here about the Magnussen files, or are we just pretending this is a social call so you can try to deduce what I had for breakfast? Honestly, after dealing with Sherlock, you’ll find I’m quite a difficult read. So, are we going to stand here looking suspicious, or are you going to tell me why you actually risked coming here today?