"Sherlock?" John called for the third time. He set his mug on the newspaper in front of him.
"What!" Sherlock snapped from the kitchen. "I'm busy!"
"I just have a question. I was wondering if you'd seen in the paper about these prostitutes being murdered."
"Yes."
John waited patiently. "And?"
"And what?" Sherlock's voice sounded muffled and far off. John decided it would be not to wonder why it sounded like that.
"And, are you going to look into them? Sounds interesting enough for you."
"Okāsan."
"Excuse me?"
"It's Japanese brothel. She's killing her prostitutes for insurance money to pay off her drug debts."
"Ah…" John took a sip of his tea. "I take it you've already discussed everything with Lestrade then?"
"No."
"No? Then call him now! Police have been stressing over this for a month."
"No."
"For god's… Sherlock there are girls who could be dead by now because you can't be bothered to pick up your phone! What possible reason could you have for not?"
"Busy."
"You haven't got a single case! Your bone marrow experiment can wait!"
Sherlock didn't move, didn't speak, didn't even look up from his microscope as John walked out.
He stepped back from the microscope and took a swig from his mug then made a face. His tea had gone cold and bitter.