Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock
Bullet
Greg nodded to John as he entered the room, and received a nod in return. The doctor even acknowledged Anderson and Donovan with only some coldness. After consulting with the police for a year now, John had somehow found a way to put his feelings aside and concentrate on the work. Lestrade was grateful. Sherlock was gone and his chief corner was behaving very irregularly—not that anyone blamed poor Molly for still grieving. It took some convincing, but John had stepped in to examine bodies and crime scenes, and he had been a tremendous help.
"Sorry," Anderson was saying. "You think the killer made a headshot through that window with a handgun? The nearest roof has got to be 300 yards away!"
"Well," John said. "Those two just said that the killer couldn't have been in the room. If he wasn't here, he must've been out there."
"Doctor," Sally said patronizingly. "300 yards is a very good shot for a handgun—"
"Actually, it's an impossible shot," John interrupted, studying the wound. "Which is why I think it was actually a .22 caliber rifle."
Lestrade hid a smile under his hand. John was oblivious to the confused and slightly annoyed looks Anderson and Donovan were giving him, but Greg couldn't help being reminded of their reactions to a different consultant.
AN: I researched. I really did. I think my ideas here are plausible. Maybe. They're a shout out to ACD, so if you're a gun expert, give me a break. Please. I know nothing. I also don't know if gun ranges are always measured in yards, but I decided to go with it. If you're British and know that it's metric, let me know and I'll change it.