Overflow Post II
This post is for responding to prompts from prompt posts that are full, or continuing WIPs that were started on prompt posts that have since filled up or are close to full.
( Read more... )
( Read more... )
"Perfectly sound analysis," Sherlock replied with a loop-sided grin, "Go on. Impress me."
"You knew she came from Cardiff because her umbrella was dry. Her coat is damp from the rain but she didn't use the umbrella, the wind was too strong for her to use it. No rain anywhere in London in the last few hours. She couldn't have travelled for more than two or three hours because it's still damp. Cardiff is the only possible place where there was heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of the travel time."
"I know that she's not happily married because her ring is dirty on the outside, clean on the inside. State of her marriage, right there. I assume she's here to meet a lover. A serial adulterer." Sherlock continued as he slipped the phone back in his coat pocket, turning to smirk at the doctor, "I also worked out the suitcase earlier because I couldn't find her phone. She was a smart woman. She planted the phone on her murderer. She's cleverer than Anderson and she's dead. I am well aware of the irony."
"You are brilliant. A proper genius, I imagine. Why would you need Anderson to confirm your deductions?" Mycroft titled his head, curious. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that no matter how bizarre his reasoning is, he always comes to the right conclusion?"
"You're right, I don't really need his deductions. Rather, I need to be able to say that he said it. You see, he has a concerned party up there who will gladly bend every rule to accommodate his, and in turn, my needs. Ever since he started coming to my crime scene, I never have to explain any peculiar expense or damage compensation on my report. All I have to do is including him in the investigation. It's brilliant." The Inspector explained cheerfully, tugging on the collar of his coat, "And it certainly doesn't hurt that the man comes with the best tea in England. And the most magnificent arse too."
"I meant the 'concerned party', not Anderson," Sherlock quickly amended at Mycroft's appalled look. "I imagine he'd want to see you very soon."
With the last sentence, DI Holmes excused himself and bounded down the stairs.
XXX
Mycroft ignored Moran's polite inquiry if he was going to leave without Anderson as they passed each other by across the police line. So far this had been a collosal waste of time. He reckoned he would just catch a taxi, stopped by for donuts and headed back to his old flat. It took him six tries before a sleek black car stopped in front of him. The door opened to reveal a beautiful black-haired woman in a white smart dress sitting on the other side of the backseat. She introduced herself as Irene, recited his address and told him with a low, posh voice that she would give him a free ride (while winking suggestively at the implication).
"The concerned party sent you," the doctor stated calmly, "Did he tell you what he was going to do if I were to refuse the ride?"
"Nothing at all," Irene replied with a throaty chuckle, "You concerns are uncalled for. I am under strict order not to whip a guest."
XXX
"Surprise!"
A cheery voice greeted him as Mycroft as he turned on the lamp. Mycroft froze by the door for a moment, trying to come up with an appropriate response when facing a strange short blond man in striped jumper who was apparently... (on Mycroft's old desk which had been rearranged to the center of the room, covered with pristine white tablecloth: a victorian-style teapot, couple of similarly-themed cups, sugar on an elegant porcelaine container, milk in a glass pot, and couple of three-layered mix pastries on the side) throwing a midnight tea-time party in his flat.
"Bloody hell. Either you are very good at masking your expression, or..." The blond man's smile faded in an instant, "Sherlock told you about me, didn't he. That insufferable git."
"A little bit of both, actually." Mycroft cleared his throat and put down his umbrella. "I will only start this conversation after you hand me that England's best tea blend. Couple of scones would be lovely. I'll pass on the magnificent arse."
XXX
Reply
Leave a comment