"But sir –"
"Shut up, Cummings."
"But –"
"Just do it."
"But we don't have a warrant, Inspector!"
"I know."
"But sir, how can we allow him to just break into that chap's home, even if he is dead?"
"Constable, in this business you must choose your battles. And believe me from experience, crossing Mr. Holmes is not one of the important ones. You shoot straight with him and look the other way occasionally, he lets you pocket the credit for the case, and honestly tries to help while being a royal pain in the…well, you get my drift. You know the Doctor, don't you, Cummings?"
"Yes, sir. He's a good man."
"They don't come any better. And have you ever seen what happens if someone even looks cross-eyed at him in Mr. Holmes's presence?"
"Err…no, sir."
"Let's hope you won't have to."
"But still, he's breaking and entering –"
"We don't know what he's doing, Constable. And I'm not going to ask any embarrassing questions."
"You'll have to if he isn't done when we get there."
"If he's not, we'll go to the nearest pub for a drink."
As it happened, we didn't; he met us at the corner, bellowed at the driver, swung himself into the cab, and squeezed his bony person between us.
"We have them," he breathed.