Prompt: Lestrade pays a visit (W. Y. Traveller)
Watson and I settled by the fire in the warmly adorned study at the inn, our muddied outer clothes discarded and left to the scullery. We were both still flushed from the cold and my wrist was beginning to take on an even brighter hue—I felt the tenderness of larger bruises beginning to bloom across my side and legs.
I gingerly reclined in the large armchair, stretching my legs toward the flames and leaning my head upon the back, my eyes closed. Watson gently took my hand in his and I felt his cold fingers around my wrist, soothing and examining.
"I feel better already," I insisted, briefly pressing his fingers with my own.
"The damage appears minimal," he acknowledged, but by his voice I could hear that he was still troubled.
I ran my thumb across his warm, soft palm in a discrete caress. "It is to your credit, doctor."
He sighed. "Thank you, Holmes, that is very kind of you to say, but there is no need for flattery. I know the true aim of our investigation into the mysterious mincemeat pies has been to lift my spirits, but I assure you, I am fine. I presume they were a gift from Mrs. Hudson?"
"Do not do such a discredit to my powers of observation, Watson. Something has been troubling you these past weeks, and I would be a poor detective indeed if I could not get to the bottom of it. As for the pies, that mystery is the genuine article; one of the little commonplace conundrums that are a ubiquitous feature of life, yet often remain unsolved."
"A change of scenery has done me good, perhaps that is all I needed."
I meant to press further, but at that moment we were interrupted by an exclamation from the other room, "Why, if it isn't Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson!"
Watson withdrew his hand, and I opened my eyes and lifted my head as our old acquaintance, Inspector Lestrade, came into the sitting room.
"When there is a mystery you are never far at hand, eh? I presume you have already heard all there is to hear?" the inspector said.
"Not at all, Inspector. The matter which brings Watson and I out of London would hardly be of interest to the Scotland Yard." I glanced at Watson with a wry smile, and he smiled back, amused, but not so at ease as I might have hoped.
Lestrade rubbed his hands together in eager satisfaction at having beat us to the chase. "I suppose there's no harm in telling you about it with your interest in crime, and I know you and the doctor keep things confidential, not that we'll likely be needing your aid."
With a nod of encouragement from Watson, I motioned for the Inspector to take a seat and tell his tale.