The crowd was getting bigger, they wanted to see the gruesome site and they waited for him to show up. Four of Scotland Yard’s finest struggled to keep them at bay while Lestrade stared at the body pretending to be taking notes.
The other officers knew Lestrade was a joke, no-one knew how he became an inspector but they all knew how he gained such prestige from those in command.
The man on the floors throat had been ripped out viciously but there was no blood someone had dumped this near headless cadaver in an alley and the lead inspector into his murder would never find the killer on his own.
Lestrade was just like the morbid crowd he waited for him.
Then he appeared from the other end of the alley. Approaching slowly as though he was carefully taking in all his surroundings. No he was staggering and staring at the ground as though he may throw up at any time. He was a dishevelled mess, he looked as though he hadn’t shaved in at least a month and his trademark deerstalker hat was undone the flaps covering his ears.
As he got closer one of the younger officers got to meet his hero and had his illusions of the great detective shattered. He could barely walk in a straight line, his eyes were bloodshot and that definitely wasn’t tobacco he smelled coming from the pipe.
Lestrade didn’t seem to notice or care the state of his saviour, he happily walked up to him held his arms out and as though speaking words from a play yelled “Holmes, thank god you are here” this got a stir from the crowd as though it was some great pantomime and a man didn’t lie dead on the stones below.
Homes glanced at the body then leaned against the wall to keep himself from falling. He took a huff of his pipe then pointed the mouthpiece at a man in the crowd “it was him, arrest him Lestrade”
The accused the looked stunned, the young officer thought it was some inside joke till Lestrade had 2 of his colleagues cuff the man. The atmosphere of the crowd changed, their gruesome street theatre had turned into one of them being arrested.
The young officer cleared his throat and Lestrade caught his eye clearly warning him. Still he couldn’t keep silent this was wrong and they all knew it. “Sir we … we cant arrest this man there is no evid….” before he could finish his thought Sherlock grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the wall in one fluid motion. An act of strength and speed no-one who saw the state of him thought he was capable of.
His bloodshot eyes stared into the naive officer while his firm grip made it almost impossible for him to breath. This close his foul breath almost made him sick then he started shouting “Who the hell do you think you are? You dare to question me? Do you have the slightest idea who I am? They employ hangmen because of me boy”
He loosed his grip and the traumatised officer fell to the ground now staring at the corpse.
Lestrade tried to calm Holmes “sorry about that he’s new, he’ll learn Sherlock. Fantastic work as always.” with that the Icon of Baker street faltered away. Another case solved another child’s eyes opened.