CHAPTER TWO
"When he picked up the hand, he seemed surprised, like the weight was wrong. All I said was that something was different, that made it interesting, so I offered to help."
"So you didn't actually see anything? Who might've put the hand there? Or anyone missing a hand?"
"Obviously whoever lost the hand is no longer in need of it. It's highly unlikely she is still alive."
"I never said it was a woman," Lestrade pointed out. "I think you know more than you're letting one. If you're hindering a police investigation-"
"You can stop with the idle threats, Detective. It was a simple deduction. The wax hand you found wasn't very large, so it had to be a smaller man's or a woman's. The actual hand, obviously has to be smaller than the one you found to be coated heavily with wax and sculpted into a realistic looking hand. Since women typically have smaller hands than men, I deduced it was a woman's."
Lestrade nodded, seeing the reasoning behind the logic. "Well, was there anything else you noticed?"
"I'd like to see the hand, not covered in wax."
"I hardly know you. I can't bring you into Scotland Yard and share all my evidence. There are protocols."
Sherlock didn't fight the urge to roll his eyes. Protocols. It was like working with Mycroft, always a proper way of doing things. Luckily, he was getting quite adept at bending the rules. Or, when the need arose, ignoring them completely.
"Do you want my help, or not?"
"Yes," he admitted. "But I can't, not like this."
"Then I'd like to come in and offer an anonymous tip on one of your ongoing drug investigations."
"I don't see what that has to do with the case."
"Good, Inspector. You catch on quickly."
Ӂ
"Good morning," Sherlock greeted as he entered the room ten minutes after he should have been there.
"Morning," Lestrade returned.
"Sorry about that, had a little trouble finding the loo. Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, drug investigation."
Lestrade doubted he had been anywhere near the toilets, but dutifully pulled out a pen and paper to take notes.
Sherlock scribbled down an address. "The person you're looking for should be there tonight, just after eight, and I'm sure you'll find all the incriminating evidence you need to make an arrest as well."
Standing up, he returned his gloves to his hands.
"You came to give me an address?" the inspector asked incredulously. If it was all Sherlock promised, it was more than he could've hoped for. "You could've just phoned."
"I wanted to make sure it was correct." He gave the slightly older man a brief knowing smile. "I'll be in touch."
Greg Lestrade watched as the other man left, easily finding his way out. He obviously knew his way around Scotland Yard pretty well. Not that he'd really had any doubt when he saw him coming from the back halls. What was he supposed to do though? If his tip proved correct, he'd given them everything for a case they hadn't had any new leads on in months. He couldn't arrest him for that.