Getting To Know You (1/12)
2005 - 2007
Occasionally a black car would slide up beside Lestrade and he would be cordially invited to take a turn around the nearest green space, car park or industrial wasteland, whichever was more convenient. A brief and usually amicable exchange would take place. If it was raining, the meeting might be held in the car but more often than not they would walk in a slow circle with Lestrade barely covered by the black umbrella, wondering whether he was allowed to grab an elbow to hold on better. Lestrade would eventually run out of things to say and would end the conversation with a cheery
“Well if that’s all sunshine, I’ll be off” or indeed on one memorable occasion “I am not your fucking bagman”.
In the end of course Lestrade usually did as Mycroft had asked. He might wait for an hour or two or find another way to achieve the same goal rather than just trot off and do his bidding. But in effect when Mycroft said jump he tended to make some efforts in a vertical direction even as he rationalized it away.
The pattern had been set at their first meeting.
The car had drawn up as Lestrade left the Yard, official plates and Lestrade was already moving out of the way when a voice called him by name.
“Detective Inspector Lestrade, a word if I may?”
“I don’t think I know you?” said Lestrade taking in the bespoke suit and the honeyed voice.
“No. I believe you do know my brother however”.
“Sherlock” Lestrade sighed as it came into focus: sharp suit, posh voice and a nice line in lip curling. He looked back at the car and started to wonder. The man looked delighted, as if Lestrade had just done a trick.
“Yes Inspector my poor dear brother. I believe he is assisting you at the moment?”
“Stalking me more like” muttered Lestrade. The car said Government, high up but which department?
“He was of some help to your investigation I believe, you took one or two of his suggestions on board and they proved useful yes?” The man was leaning in a little now, with a scary little smile.
“He was rude and shall we say over tired? He had to be physically restrained from moving the corpse, shouted out a stream of bullshit and yes he was spot on.”
“So will he need to stalk you quite so assiduously next time?”
“Next time?” It honestly hadn’t occurred to Lestrade that there would be a next time. The thought was not welcome.
“You should consider it you know. The wise man seeks council whatever the source.”
“My snout fund won’t run to class A’s you know”
“Yes I do agree that needs to end. However don’t you think that an olive branch from the Yard? The hope of future puzzles to be solved might be an appropriate carrot to dangle for this particular rabbit?”
The man was still smiling. Still very pleased and Lestrade realized absolutely confident that he would play ball, which was annoying. This situation, reflected Lestrade suddenly equally happy, was exactly what hierarchies were built for. Hand made suits did not stoop to talk to Detectives. Quality talked to the brass. The brass no doubt, would have a bit of a think, pay off a few debts or bank a favour and issue the instructions. Yep this shark was headed up the food chain as soon as Lestrade could get his phone out.
“My superiors” began Lestrade, starting to fish for his phone.
“Will no doubt react positively to a request from such a respected officer such as yourself to the addition of a zero cost consultant on the approved contact list”
“Will they indeed?” Shit the fix was in.
“I have no doubts. But you see it would be best if it came as a request via the usual channels, for forms sake if you will”
Lestrade stared at him. So the fix wasn’t solid yet some idiot could still mess it up. Lestrade sighed to himself as he realized exactly who the idiot was in this particular scenario. The brass wanted the request to come from Operations. Then they could approve it having already made their deals but this way if it all went tits up they could point out they’d been responding to an Operational Request. Nothing to see here, move along please, no the Metropolitan Police do not ordinarily endorse nepotism but he asked so nicely.
The brother was now looking at him with the sort of sympathy that Lestrade could really begin to hate.
“He’s a user” said Lestrade clutching at straws.
“And he can be useful to you”
“He’s bloody irritating” Lestrade was all out of straws.
“And usually correct in his deductions”
“What happens when he fucks up?”
“You clean it up”
“Really?” Lestrade rocked back on his heals to savour that one.
“Yes you do make a very adequate bagman for the department you know. They give you the, shall we say the interesting cases already and that will only increase when they see further proof of your resourcefulness”
“And you want me to clean up after your brother?”
“No Inspector I want you to decrease the likelihood of him causing a mess in the first place. Prevention Lestrade, prevention and distraction are always more effective tools” the brother said. He had quite a nice voice thought Lestrade apropos of nothing - all up and down and pretending to be reasonable.
“Tall order sunshine. He managed to piss off half of Forensics in about three minutes this morning; seriously I just spent a bloody hour with them smoothing feathers”
“Being generally correct most of the time can be so very isolating don’t you think?” The nice voice had lowered to share the confidence.
“I wouldn’t know” said Lestrade drily.
“Oh? I take it by the time you left your colleagues in Forensics they had prioritized the tests required to evidence Sherlock’s deductions?”
The brother could quirk his eyebrows Lestrade noticed. Very useful that. His own face he knew tended to wobble all over the place with every reaction, every emotion rolling across it if he wasn’t careful. Still he was a copper. He put his calm, blank face back in place and stepped carefully into the other man’s space.
“I left with the initial results actually”. The brother smiled, this time with teeth, again delighted. He didn’t step back. They were now stood far too close together for any Englishman to be truly comfortable. Lestrade used this trick quite often, stepping in calmly as if he was more than happy crowding up in another man’s space. Which he was generally but that wasn’t the point. He didn’t get the opportunities like he used too either. They really were very close thought Lestrade. He could smell a rather nice soap. God knows what the brother could smell after what had been a long day in small rooms but at least he didn’t wrinkle his nose up. He wasn’t stepping back either. Lestrade’s breathe caught and he felt weirdly light and free. I could just lean in and - Lestrade mentally shook himself and tried to focus.
“So may I conclude that you will consider my request to make your request?” The brother’s voice was low, like for secrets, still holding Lestrade unbearably close.
“Yes” after all if the brass wanted it (and he would have to check that first thing) he’d end up doing it anyway.
“Excellent, thank you and if prevention and distraction are insufficient please do contact me” He handed Lestrade a card. He actually had to step back to get the damn thing out of the waistcoat pocket. Long fingers, nice nails Lestrade noticed and all those buttons: must take him ages to get dressed in the morning.
“It’s been an unexpected delight Inspector I will see you again no doubt but do call, if needs be. I can be very helpful, very helpful indeed.” The brother smiled again and strode back to the car, mission accomplished.
Lestrade turned the card over; name and number. A bloody stupid name too. There was no clue as to which department but he’d bet his life there would be a number there too.
Lestrade thought as he walked; he’d best take the conversation and the request to the DCI tomorrow and see how far up the food chain he’d have to go before he met the fix coming down the other way. And seriously what was it with him and posh blokes? It was embarrassing, one flick of a floppy fringe and he went all helpful.
Lestrade walked past the tube station. He’d pop into the Eddie for a swift pint and see who was in. It was a bit of a walk but often if you timed it right the coppers would drift off and the lawyers would drift in about 8ish. Occasionally too it was possible to start up conversations with floppy haired barristers and their attendant solicitors. And even more occasionally that ended with an exchange of cards. Irons in the fire and all that.
The next day
Lestrade had to admit the fix was remarkably good. Never in the field of Operational Requests had that irritating form been greeted with so many pens willing to counter sign it so quickly. And there were no smirks either, no jokes about Whitehall pen pushers or jobs for the boys. It was all business. Getting OR4112/GL/2005 approved was just a job that needed to be done right now.
So the brass, were wary of the name on the card. And if the brass were wary then maybe Lestrade should be too, no matter how nice he smelled.
The hard info though came through in the pub and then only by accident. The DCI had stopped by early to buy a big obvious round and cornered Lestrade for a quick chat.
“So you met the man himself then?” she said.
“Yep.” Lestrade was distracted; trying to fit 5 pints, four Jamesons, the full range of available crisps and a vodka tonic on a very small tray.
“How did he strike you?”
“Well hard to tell really. Posh, smart, smiley”. Lestrade stared at the crisps and started shoveling them into pockets.
“Smiley?” The DCI seemed shocked or about to choke; it was hard to tell.
“Yes you know, just smiling most of the time, little ray of sunshine he was” Lestrade carefully stared at a packet of pork scratchings then quietly balanced it on top of the Vodka.
“Well, well, well. You’re sure it was actually him then?”
“Card and everything Ma’am”
“Bit of advice Lestrade. Don’t get in his way”
Lestrade wheeled back to his team with the loot. So Mycroft Holmes swam in deep waters indeed. It occurred to Lestrade that maybe he wasn’t getting all the signals right. It wouldn’t have been the first time. After a life time more or less in the closet he liked to be very sure before he acted. Lestrade sat down and threw the crisps on the table. It wasn’t likely to happen anyway. Even if Holmes was gay, there would no doubt be a Dominic or a Tarquin in the background. Bespoke suits might shag the odd M&S mix and match but it was unlikely they’d stay for breakfast. And anyway if the films had it right, all Tarquin could look forward to was a messy death before the popcorn had cooled. Lestrade drank his pint and tried to catch up with the chat.
Occasionally a black car would slide up beside Lestrade and he would be cordially invited to take a turn around the nearest green space, car park or industrial wasteland, whichever was more convenient. A brief and usually amicable exchange would take place. If it was raining, the meeting might be held in the car but more often than not they would walk in a slow circle with Lestrade barely covered by the black umbrella, wondering whether he was allowed to grab an elbow to hold on better. Lestrade would eventually run out of things to say and would end the conversation with a cheery
“Well if that’s all sunshine, I’ll be off” or indeed on one memorable occasion “I am not your fucking bagman”.
In the end of course Lestrade usually did as Mycroft had asked. He might wait for an hour or two or find another way to achieve the same goal rather than just trot off and do his bidding. But in effect when Mycroft said jump he tended to make some efforts in a vertical direction even as he rationalized it away.
The pattern had been set at their first meeting.
The car had drawn up as Lestrade left the Yard, official plates and Lestrade was already moving out of the way when a voice called him by name.
“Detective Inspector Lestrade, a word if I may?”
“I don’t think I know you?” said Lestrade taking in the bespoke suit and the honeyed voice.
“No. I believe you do know my brother however”.
“Sherlock” Lestrade sighed as it came into focus: sharp suit, posh voice and a nice line in lip curling. He looked back at the car and started to wonder. The man looked delighted, as if Lestrade had just done a trick.
“Yes Inspector my poor dear brother. I believe he is assisting you at the moment?”
“Stalking me more like” muttered Lestrade. The car said Government, high up but which department?
“He was of some help to your investigation I believe, you took one or two of his suggestions on board and they proved useful yes?” The man was leaning in a little now, with a scary little smile.
“He was rude and shall we say over tired? He had to be physically restrained from moving the corpse, shouted out a stream of bullshit and yes he was spot on.”
“So will he need to stalk you quite so assiduously next time?”
“Next time?” It honestly hadn’t occurred to Lestrade that there would be a next time. The thought was not welcome.
“You should consider it you know. The wise man seeks council whatever the source.”
“My snout fund won’t run to class A’s you know”
“Yes I do agree that needs to end. However don’t you think that an olive branch from the Yard? The hope of future puzzles to be solved might be an appropriate carrot to dangle for this particular rabbit?”
The man was still smiling. Still very pleased and Lestrade realized absolutely confident that he would play ball, which was annoying. This situation, reflected Lestrade suddenly equally happy, was exactly what hierarchies were built for. Hand made suits did not stoop to talk to Detectives. Quality talked to the brass. The brass no doubt, would have a bit of a think, pay off a few debts or bank a favour and issue the instructions. Yep this shark was headed up the food chain as soon as Lestrade could get his phone out.
“My superiors” began Lestrade, starting to fish for his phone.
“Will no doubt react positively to a request from such a respected officer such as yourself to the addition of a zero cost consultant on the approved contact list”
“Will they indeed?” Shit the fix was in.
“I have no doubts. But you see it would be best if it came as a request via the usual channels, for forms sake if you will”
Lestrade stared at him. So the fix wasn’t solid yet some idiot could still mess it up. Lestrade sighed to himself as he realized exactly who the idiot was in this particular scenario. The brass wanted the request to come from Operations. Then they could approve it having already made their deals but this way if it all went tits up they could point out they’d been responding to an Operational Request. Nothing to see here, move along please, no the Metropolitan Police do not ordinarily endorse nepotism but he asked so nicely.
The brother was now looking at him with the sort of sympathy that Lestrade could really begin to hate.
“He’s a user” said Lestrade clutching at straws.
“And he can be useful to you”
“He’s bloody irritating” Lestrade was all out of straws.
“And usually correct in his deductions”
“What happens when he fucks up?”
“You clean it up”
“Really?” Lestrade rocked back on his heals to savour that one.
“Yes you do make a very adequate bagman for the department you know. They give you the, shall we say the interesting cases already and that will only increase when they see further proof of your resourcefulness”
“And you want me to clean up after your brother?”
“No Inspector I want you to decrease the likelihood of him causing a mess in the first place. Prevention Lestrade, prevention and distraction are always more effective tools” the brother said. He had quite a nice voice thought Lestrade apropos of nothing - all up and down and pretending to be reasonable.
“Tall order sunshine. He managed to piss off half of Forensics in about three minutes this morning; seriously I just spent a bloody hour with them smoothing feathers”
“Being generally correct most of the time can be so very isolating don’t you think?” The nice voice had lowered to share the confidence.
“I wouldn’t know” said Lestrade drily.
“Oh? I take it by the time you left your colleagues in Forensics they had prioritized the tests required to evidence Sherlock’s deductions?”
The brother could quirk his eyebrows Lestrade noticed. Very useful that. His own face he knew tended to wobble all over the place with every reaction, every emotion rolling across it if he wasn’t careful. Still he was a copper. He put his calm, blank face back in place and stepped carefully into the other man’s space.
“I left with the initial results actually”. The brother smiled, this time with teeth, again delighted. He didn’t step back. They were now stood far too close together for any Englishman to be truly comfortable. Lestrade used this trick quite often, stepping in calmly as if he was more than happy crowding up in another man’s space. Which he was generally but that wasn’t the point. He didn’t get the opportunities like he used too either. They really were very close thought Lestrade. He could smell a rather nice soap. God knows what the brother could smell after what had been a long day in small rooms but at least he didn’t wrinkle his nose up. He wasn’t stepping back either. Lestrade’s breathe caught and he felt weirdly light and free. I could just lean in and - Lestrade mentally shook himself and tried to focus.
“So may I conclude that you will consider my request to make your request?” The brother’s voice was low, like for secrets, still holding Lestrade unbearably close.
“Yes” after all if the brass wanted it (and he would have to check that first thing) he’d end up doing it anyway.
“Excellent, thank you and if prevention and distraction are insufficient please do contact me” He handed Lestrade a card. He actually had to step back to get the damn thing out of the waistcoat pocket. Long fingers, nice nails Lestrade noticed and all those buttons: must take him ages to get dressed in the morning.
“It’s been an unexpected delight Inspector I will see you again no doubt but do call, if needs be. I can be very helpful, very helpful indeed.” The brother smiled again and strode back to the car, mission accomplished.
Lestrade turned the card over; name and number. A bloody stupid name too. There was no clue as to which department but he’d bet his life there would be a number there too.
Lestrade thought as he walked; he’d best take the conversation and the request to the DCI tomorrow and see how far up the food chain he’d have to go before he met the fix coming down the other way. And seriously what was it with him and posh blokes? It was embarrassing, one flick of a floppy fringe and he went all helpful.
Lestrade walked past the tube station. He’d pop into the Eddie for a swift pint and see who was in. It was a bit of a walk but often if you timed it right the coppers would drift off and the lawyers would drift in about 8ish. Occasionally too it was possible to start up conversations with floppy haired barristers and their attendant solicitors. And even more occasionally that ended with an exchange of cards. Irons in the fire and all that.
The next day
Lestrade had to admit the fix was remarkably good. Never in the field of Operational Requests had that irritating form been greeted with so many pens willing to counter sign it so quickly. And there were no smirks either, no jokes about Whitehall pen pushers or jobs for the boys. It was all business. Getting OR4112/GL/2005 approved was just a job that needed to be done right now.
So the brass, were wary of the name on the card. And if the brass were wary then maybe Lestrade should be too, no matter how nice he smelled.
The hard info though came through in the pub and then only by accident. The DCI had stopped by early to buy a big obvious round and cornered Lestrade for a quick chat.
“So you met the man himself then?” she said.
“Yep.” Lestrade was distracted; trying to fit 5 pints, four Jamesons, the full range of available crisps and a vodka tonic on a very small tray.
“How did he strike you?”
“Well hard to tell really. Posh, smart, smiley”. Lestrade stared at the crisps and started shoveling them into pockets.
“Smiley?” The DCI seemed shocked or about to choke; it was hard to tell.
“Yes you know, just smiling most of the time, little ray of sunshine he was” Lestrade carefully stared at a packet of pork scratchings then quietly balanced it on top of the Vodka.
“Well, well, well. You’re sure it was actually him then?”
“Card and everything Ma’am”
“Bit of advice Lestrade. Don’t get in his way”
Lestrade wheeled back to his team with the loot. So Mycroft Holmes swam in deep waters indeed. It occurred to Lestrade that maybe he wasn’t getting all the signals right. It wouldn’t have been the first time. After a life time more or less in the closet he liked to be very sure before he acted. Lestrade sat down and threw the crisps on the table. It wasn’t likely to happen anyway. Even if Holmes was gay, there would no doubt be a Dominic or a Tarquin in the background. Bespoke suits might shag the odd M&S mix and match but it was unlikely they’d stay for breakfast. And anyway if the films had it right, all Tarquin could look forward to was a messy death before the popcorn had cooled. Lestrade drank his pint and tried to catch up with the chat.