Meanwhile, back at Baker Street...
"I'm not sure why I'm going along with this," Donovan muttered, glaring half-heartedly out the cab window with her arms crossed.
Lestrade bit back a somewhat sarcastic reply – Sherlock must have worn off on him – and commented instead, "Well, we're here. Might as well make the most of it." He climbed out of the cab and walked around to Sally's door, opening it for her. "Shall we?"
Donovan scowled at him, but accepted his show of gallantry in the face of potential facial trauma and climbed out. Lestrade shut the door behind her. "Do you want to knock or should I?" he asked as they approached 221B's door.
Donovan was about to answer when a sudden gust of wind blew the door open in front of them. Both froze in surprise as it crashed into the wall, denting the wood.
Lestrade winced. Mrs. Hudson was not going to be happy about this... His train of thought abruptly derailed as he saw the wet footprints on the stairs, going up. Since Mrs. Hudson would never allow any lodger to enter with wet feet, or at least not without cleaning the stairs afterward –
Someone had been here, he realized in alarm, while John was alone in the house. And probably not with the best of intentions.