John fiddled with his phone, rather concerned. RB, whoever the hell that was, had Jim’s phone, and didn’t know how he got it. That could mean a few things, but the possibility with the most weight in his mind was that Jim was in trouble.
He’d told RB to meet him in the coffee shop, and retrieve the phone for the criminal mastermind. The doctor wasn’t sure how the hell he’d find Jim, actually, without his phone. Maybe he would ask Mycroft or something.