Lestrade scratched his head. He was puzzled. He didn't like being puzzled. He liked facts, and he liked those facts to make sense.
None of this made any sense at all.
"Let me go over this again," he said, licking his finger and going back over the notes in his little pocket book. "Mr Holmes died on Wednesday evening. He was confirmed dead at the scene by Dr Watson, and was buried yesterday at 11am. Some time last night, he somehow rose from the dead, broke open his coffin, managed to somehow unlock the door to the family crypt, and disappear."
"That's right, sir," said the constable nervously.
"And someone - or something - smashed open the heads of two coffins which were also in the crypt."
The constable nodded, miserably. Lestrade threw his notebook to the ground and swore. "I don't bloody believe it. Are you trying to tell me that there's an zombie Sherlock Holmes walking around London looking for the heads of corpses to munch on, constable? I suppose next you're going to tell me he flew over the wall, too?"
"The gates were locked, sir," pointed out the constable. Lestrade threw his hands up in disgust, turned on his heel and walked away.
"I don't bloody believe it!" he repeated loudly to no-one in particular. The other bobbies looked at each other nervously, then back at the open door to the Holmes family crypt. No-one seemed particularly keen to get any closer to it than was absolutely necessary.
Lestrade turned to Clark. "The press better not be onto this yet," he warned with a growl.
"Not yet, sir," Clark replied. "We've had a couple of reports from people claiming they saw someone matching Mr Holmes' description late last night near Sloane Square."
Lestrade looked back at the open crypt. "D'you suppose Dr Watson was wrong?" he wondered aloud.
"Wrong, sir?"
"What if he wasn't dead?"
"Not dead... but sir, Dr Watson is-"
"There was that Blackwood case," Lestrade reminded him.
"Ah. Yes. That," conceded Clark.
They both turned to stare at the crypt. Clark shook his head slowly. "Poor bloody bugger," he said.
Lestrade wasn't sure if he meant Holmes or Watson, but nodded agreement. "Best send someone up to Baker Street then. Just in case."
Clark nodded. "On it, sir."
