Chapter Fifteen

Lestrade knew from the start that this would be a bad idea. He nervously waved at the elderly police archivist. "Mister Billis, how are you?" he greeted with a tense smile.

"Aw, no worse than you, I hear." The police archivist, Constable Gary Billis, grinned at him. "Heard ya went and got popped! How're ya still alive, kidda?" Billis had been around since before Adam and Eve, he'd watched more than half the constables and detectives in the office through the academy, Lestrade included. It counted for alot in Lestrade's books. He really hated what he was about to do.

"Ah, I'm fine." Lestrade smiled. "But I need a really, really big favor from you."

Billis raised his eyebrows. "An' what's that?" he asked suspiciously.

Lestrade glanced around to make sure they wern't overheard. "I need to take a look at some evidence." he told him.

Billis's face lit up. "Hah! Ya got me there good, mate! Thought you was up to no good!" He slapped Lestrade on the shoulder. "An' what case would that be?"

Lestrade tood a calming breath. "The Holmes case." he stated. "The one from several weeks back."

Billis blinked and took a look in a tablet. "Sorry, kidda, all evidence was gone an' transferred to... Homeland Security?" His eyes widened at Lestrade. "What're ya gettin' yerself into, lad?"

Lestrade brushed the question aside. "And you're sure there's nothing left here?" Billis nodded confidently. Lestrade glanced around again and grimaced. "You wouldn't-... You couldn't happen to let me take a peak at the reports on the case, could you?"

Billis's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "Course not! 'S against regulations! Wot's gotten into ya, kidda?"

"Please?" Lestrade folded his hands pleadingly. "It's very important."

Billis melted a little at the look. "Ya know, there was once a time ya couldn't break the rules to save yer life." he sighed.

"Ah, Mister Billis," Lestrade smiled a little, thinking about a certain consulting detective. "you have no idea."

"Ya havn't gone off the straight an' narrow, have ya?" Billis asked sadly.

Lestrade laughed back and shook his head. "No, not far, at least. Just... bended it a little?"

"I reckon you don't got the proper paperwork for this either?" Billis asked perceptively. Lestrade grimaced and shook his head. Billis studied his earnest expression as he debated what to do. "Ya were always a good kidda, even though I can't never get yer name." Billis shook his head. "I'm probably gone cuckoos..." He wandered off into the archives and returned shortly with a stack of reports. "They didn'a come from me." he declared.

Lestrade took the pile with a grateful look. "If it's any consolation, Mister Billis, you might've just had a hand in saving many lives."

"Ah, get on, kidda." Billis waved him off kindly. "Off with ya! An' don't get caught!"

"Oh, I won't." Lestrade murmured to himself and left.

"And what's this?" Mycroft asked when he dropped by Lestrade's flat and found the living room littered with report filings with Lestrade set in the eye of the mess.

"Well I thought, if there was any chance that the people who are after the List were present at your flat or something suspicious happened and I missed it, maybe one of my officers entered it in their report." Lestrade said, throwing down the report he was holding with a sigh.

"It's a very fine line of thinking, Lestrade." Mycroft assured him, picking up a file.

"The problem is, there's nothing out of the ordinary." Lestrade groaned, collapsing onto his side on his sofa, rubbing his tired eyes. "There were a few civilians that we had to drive out of the premises but nobody stood out in particular, all those who were there were routinely checked and questioned." He opened his eyes when he thought Mycroft was being quieter than usual. "What is it?" Mycroft was immersed in reading a report.

Mycroft put the report he was reading aside and picked up another one, and then another. Then his face lit up. "Lestrade, I love you, now and forever." Mycroft gushed, both froze at the strange choice of wording.

Lestrade blinked in bewilderment but let a smile crawl slowly across his face. "Does... that mean you found something?" he asked hesitantly through his startled blush.

Mycroft cleared his throat embarrassedly. "Er, yes." Was that a dusting of pink on his cheeks? "Yes, I've found a minor inconsistency."

"And what is that?" Lestrade asked, eager to know.

"On many of these reports, it mentions several of my personal effects that the hospital confiscated." Lestrade nodded. "Among them, a coat." Mycroft paused, letting Lestrade hang in suspense. "During the time of the drowning... I wasn't wearing a coat."

Lestrade blinked. Oh-... oh! He grinned as full realization came over him. "Your effects would've been passed along to next of kin..."

Mycroft picked up his umbrella and gave it a cheery twirl. "I think it's time to visit Baker Street."

"Evening, Mrs, Hudson!" Lestrade greeted cheerfully when the landlady opened the door for them.

"Night, DI Lestrade, ...night." Mycroft corrected him with a smirk. "I'm afraid it's far too late to be considered evening."

"What are you doing here, Mycroft." Sherlock groused from the top of the stairs leading to the flat. "I hope you're not here just to annoy me."

"Not at all, Sherlock." Mycroft chuckled. "Not this time, at least."

"Sherlock," Lestrade took over. "what happened to Mycroft's personal effects from the incident?"

Sherlock scoffed. "You sound like you expected me to keep them."

Lestrade paled and Mycroft gripped the handle of his umbrella hard. "Sherlock, don't tell me you... threw them away?" At Sherlock's raised eyebrow. "Please tell me you didn't!"

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders. "But I did."