'Anderson! How are you doing? Enjoying prison?' asked Sherlock as he walked into the visiting room where Anderson was waiting for them. John noticed that Sherlock practically bounced into the room. He was clearly looking forward to this interview and downgrading Anderson further.
'What are you doing here Sherlock? Don't you have someone else to annoy?' sneered Anderson, who was looking stressed and slightly worse for wear.
'As a matter of fact, Sherlock here is investigating your case, Anderson, so you better be polite, because he is the only one who can save you from a life sentence,' snapped Lestrade. He definitely wanted to get this over and done with, before he felt like killing either Anderson or Sherlock by himself.
'I would rather stay in prison than have him acquit me. Why is he doing this anyway? He hates me' replied Anderson.
'As a matter of fact, I don't hate you. That would be a waste of my brain. I merely think that you are in fact, below me and not really worth my notice unless I can frustrate you in some way. I wouldn't be able to do that very easily if you were in prison, would I?' Sherlock cut in, barely hiding a grin. 'Now, you missed your morning coffee today and got minimal sleep last night, judging by the bags under your eyes and your dilated pupils. You were trying to impress someone today, look at how carefully you dressed. Your central heating is broken, but that only happened last night. Hold out your hands.'
Anderson reluctantly held out his arms for Sherlock to look at, after a commanding glare from Lestrade. Firstly, Sherlock looked at Anderson's hands, and measured the size of them against his own. Then he sniffed them, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
'Commercial soap, but no bleach' he muttered, 'now, any puncture wounds?' He inspected Anderson's arms, but didn't find anything. There were no wounds on his face or neck, and his clothes were free of rips and stains.
'Fascinating… So, when did you arrive at work today?'
'Seven. Like normal,' Anderson replied curtly.
'But you were early.' It was not a question.
'No.'
'You were. See the way your hair has dried? You washed it this morning, and it dried in an unusual place, because you were waiting outside in the wind for someone to let you in.' John looked at Sherlock astounded. How on earth did he know things like that, he wondered.
'Yes, fine. I was 5 minutes early, and Lestrade let me in when he arrived at seven. Happy?' Anderson replied, clearly not pleased that Sherlock had caught his lie.
'No, not particularly happy' replied Sherlock, which was at complete odds to his smile. 'You're going to have a better case if you tell the truth. What did you do when you arrived at work?'
'Worked.'
Sherlock turned on his heel, and started to walk out of the room.
'Lestrade,' he called after himself, 'Anderson is innocent, but I can't prove it in a way that will make the court happy unless he answers my questions. I am going to keep walking away, and then I am going to decide whether I should find some evidence that proves it was him, or something that acquits him. Which would you all prefer?'
Silence. Sherlock stormed out the doors and called a cab. John quickly followed him, to make sure that he would continue the case. Despite his hatred for Anderson, he was interested to see who had committed the murder. Sherlock's comment that Anderson was innocent was confusing him, and he wanted the answer.
'Anderson, you are a bloody idiot.' Lestrade turned on Anderson as soon as both John and Sherlock had left the room. 'Sherlock is trying to help you. You heard him, he thinks you're innocent. I don't know how he came up with that conclusion, but he is your best hope and you just blew it. I suggest you apologise to him and start begging on the ground for him to take your case back.'
'He doesn't care a thing about me' replied Anderson, 'he just wants to humiliate me and make himself look good. I didn't commit that murder, and if anyone else in the police force were as good as me, they would be able to prove that.' Lestrade stared at him with astonishment.
'Anderson, they would have to be a good sight better than you to acquit you for this murder. All the cards are against you. Even Sherlock. I suggest you think that over in prison tonight.'