Today's Prompt: The Inspectors can't do anything with Holmes popping up (from PowerOfPens).

Note: This serves as a prequel to Day 3: A Toast to Mr. Holmes.

"Shh," hissed Inspector Lestrade, a warning finger to his lips. "Careful or Mr. Holmes might hear us."

Inspector Gregson glanced around. "I don't see him."

After a moment's hesitation, Lestrade pointed to an old beggar man sitting on the corner, whose sharp grey eyes had momentarily been diverted from the pair of inspectors.

"You think that's him?"

Lestrade nodded.

The man turned back around to face the inspectors and they both hastily looked away and hurriedly continued down the street.

"But he doesn't know. He can't know," Gregson protested.

Lestrade gave him a look of disbelief.

Gregson groaned. "You're right. He must at least suspect, and with his powers of disguise he could be anyone…"

"Even the walls have ears."

"I'll discreetly make the reservation," Gregson resumed in a hushed voice, "If you'll tell everyone the plan without letting him know."

"Certainly. Dr. Watson has already agreed to keep Mr. Holmes distracted and bring him over when it's time."

"Good. Then I best be going. Good luck on your investigations." Gregson doffed his hat to Lestrade and made to leave.

"And to you." Lestrade tipped his own hat toward Gregson before they both hurried off, continuing along the same road for a few awkward paces and then going their separate ways.

Gregson furtively glanced over his shoulder as he rushed down the street. He could have sworn he was being followed. There was a tall, thin, bearded man with a swooping gait that was dodging his every step. He doubled back and took a side route before he could shake the man and even then he could not be sure.

He ducked into the restaurant with a final glance and called for the owner; "I must speak with him immediately, on a private matter."

He would say not another word until he was ushered into the office of the concerned owner of the establishment. "Is something the matter, my good sir?"

"I have been tasked with making the arrangements for an event," Gregson explained gravely.

However, before he could continue, there was a knock on the door. The owner excused himself and had a quick hushed discussion with the intruder.

"My apologies," the man said as he returned. "There has been some small trouble with a new waiter, but it is of no importance."

"Not at all," said Gregson, getting to his feet. "I've just realized I have an important matter to attend to. Good day."

"Officer Jenkins, a word?" Lestrade held up a hand to detain the young officer as they passed each other in the halls of Scotland Yard.

"What is it, sir?"

Lestrade glanced over his shoulder before asking, "Will you be available-" he stopped short as none other than Sherlock Holmes came striding down the hall toward them.

"Good afternoon, Inspector, Officer," Holmes greeted them both with a wry smile.

"What was it you wanted to say, Inspector?" asked Officer Jenkins as Holmes passed.

Lestrade just shook his head. "Never you mind. I swear he must have eyes in the back of his head."

For all of the interruptions, the party did eventually come together. Holmes, Watson, Lestrade and Gregson were seated around the end of a long table, talking as the celebration wound down.

"Mr. Holmes, I must say you're a difficult man to plan a party for," declared Lestrade. "Did you really have to follow us everywhere like that?"

Holmes's eyes widened in an intimation of surprise. "I haven't followed you anywhere to my knowledge."

"Admit it," insisted Gregson, "You've been trailing us in disguise trying to figure out what's been going on. And I feel justified in saying you made it right difficult for us."

Holmes let out a sharp barking laugh. "I fear you are mistaken. Dr. Watson was kind enough to clear up the mystery for me before I had to resort to any such tactics."