"Lestrade, you simply cannot do this!"
The Inspector turned round, his eyes alight with wicked satisfaction, dancing in glee over the situation.
"Now, Mr. Holmes –"
"Lestrade!" the detective shouted, drawing the attention of two passing constables. "Do you understand what it would do to my reputation if those rags got hold of this?"
"Mr. Holmes." Lestrade grinned mockingly. "I cannot conceal facts from the press. There's no shame in being proven wrong on a case; even you make mistakes sometimes."
"Lestrade, if you let that press conference know that my blundering of timetables allowed the gang leader to get across the Channel, my reputation shall be completely ruined!" Holmes was dangerously close to pleading now with the Inspector.
"Dear, dear, Mr. Holmes. But I've been waiting for years to finally prove that the old force is better than your pretty theories. No, I believe the conference will go as planned."
The Doctor, who had been watching with bored amusement, stepped up to stand beside the now-panicking Holmes.
"Might I remind you, Lestrade, that the Strand magazine has at least five times the number of readers as those tabloids combined?" he asked coolly.
"Are you threatening me, Dr. Watson?"
"Most definitely."
"And if I refuse?"
"Next month, your description goes from best of the professionals to the leading imbecile in Britain."