I haven't the foggiest clue where this came from, besides hearing someone say "deductive reasoning" with a heavy accent. No ducks were harmed in the making of this silliness.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Ever. Unfortunately.
Lestrade was a name that ought to have been connected with many a mysterious case being solved in London. He was the best of Scotland Yard by any means, and that might have once counted for something before Sherlock meddling Holmes came about. He might have been a handy man to have for the real tricky crimes, but Inspector Lestrade knew at the end of the day that Holmes wasn't punching his hours breaking up brawls and chasing after the normal lunatics a city like London produced.
He didn't much want recognition or fame beyond that of a normal respectable man; he was happy enough with his family and his work. What he did want, though, was to be treated as an intelligent man—more intelligent than Doctor Watson ever made him out to be. Not that a fellow could blame someone like the doctor. He was a kindly man, but he did have a habit of making his partner out as more of a savior than Lestrade thought was fitting.
He dragged his boots over the grass as he strolled through Hyde Park with every intention of getting home for his supper and putting his feet up for the rest of the evening. It was deucedly hot, even for high summer, and he would be grateful the moment he got to take off the uniform and relax. Of course, the policeman's lot was never so simple, was it?
"Quick! Catch it, catch it!"
"It'll bite me again!"
"Don't you be such a pansy! It ain't got no teeth!"
The sound of horrified quacking drew the Inspector away from his homeward trudge and towards the edge of the Serpentine, where two halfway decently dressed lads were in the process of pinning an innocent mallard between them. The duck appeared to have other plans, and was putting up as admirable a fight as any bird he'd seen.
"Oi! You two!" Putting on his most impressive tone, Lestrade stroke forward with his head up. "What do you lads think you're doing with that duck? Trying to get your dinner?" Unlikely. They weren't dressed poor enough to be chasing after ducks with their bare hands. "Come on now, out with it."
The taller boy watched in disgruntlement as the bird took to the water with a relieved quack. "Well we was gonna play doctor detective 'til you did that." He groused unhappily.
Could a day go by that someone did not reference Holmes? Lestrade sighed and pursed his lips against the notion that the blasted man had so much fame for taking a few cases off the Yard's capable hands. "What in Heaven's name could you need a duck for, in that case?" He asked suspiciously. Lord forbid they'd gotten their grubby hands on that old story about the Christmas goose, or he'd have no end of ducks and geese with their necks wrung.
"Well it's a bit obvious, innit? 'Ow are we s'posed to play it proper without the duck?"
"You can't do much like Sherlock Holmes unless you got a duck, Off'cer. Blimey."
"Tha's 'ow he solves all 'is cases. He whacks the bad feller with a duck!"
Lestrade pinched the bridge of his nose and struggled valiantly not to give in to his amusement. "You think Sherlock Holmes goes about walloping people with a duck?" He asked as seriously as he could. "That's a serious crime, young lad. You can't beat others with gamebirds." At least, he didn't think it was legal. He never had looked up the laws regarding assaulting others with anything similar to a live duck.
The shorter lad didn't seem to agree. "Well blimey. 'Ow on Earth did Sherlock 'Olmes beat Moriarty if not with a duck? If 'e uses a duck, it must be legal. Wot with 'im bein' a p'liceman an' all."
"We need it, sir. Otherwise we can't do no 'duckin'."
"No one wants t' play doctor detective an' only do the smart part. It's in the stories that 'e uses 'da duck ta' reason'!"
Lestrade could not restrain himself any longer, and dissolved into a fit of near hysterical laughter, bracing himself on his knees and wiping his eyes. "Well…" He began. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to forbid you lads from picking at any more ducks. I'm sure you could make due with some imagination."
"Well I s'pose we could use a stick instead, Georgie." The taller boy said seriously. "A'right then. Thanks for the idea, Off'cer!" The two ran off in high spirits, and the Inspector took a moment to lapse into laughter again.
He set off for home with a pronounced skip in his step, feeling as though he now had something to lord over Holmes' head should the need be.
After all, no one thought Scotland Yard employed ducks in their deliverance of justice!
