Chapter .39
"Now what's wrong?" Sherlock asks without bothering to completely leave his mind palace as Mycroft enters the flat, his tread giving away his aggravation.
"Nothing of importance. Just had to meet with the Cambodian ambassador, is all." Mycroft replies tightly as he sinks into John's chair.
Ah. That ambassador. The Werejackal whom reeks of fish and is constantly trying figure out "which team" Mycroft prefers, not that the man would ever have the courage to do so to the Vampire's face.
Once again, why does it matter?
"The fifthly scavenger is a moron. He's also embezzling quite heavily from the countries' funds."
Sherlock speaks casually, not completely focused on the conversation at hand. Yet he can still hear the unspoken gratitude in Mycroft's posture as he reaches for his phone to inform the proper channels of the man's tendency towards thievery.
Looks like Cambodia will need a new ambassador soon.
