This chapter is a bit shorter because… Well, I don't know. I did a lot of it in IT lessons and such. And got in a lot of trouble in IT lessons. Hm. Either way, enjoy!

They took a taxi to Park Lane, which was depressing in itself. Adele found herself scrolling through the few contacts on her phone, wondering whether to text Eliza or not. She felt sort of bad, considering that she hadn't even mentioned that she was leaving.

'Pay attention.'

Adele's head snapped up, to find Sherlock glaring at her.

'What?'

'Pay attention.'

Adele rolled her eyes and put her phone back in her pocket. She's almost forgotten how adamant Sherlock was that she not get distracted. There was little point in rebelling against Sherlock, and getting distracte was probably the worst Adele could do. How pathetic.

Across the road, Lestrade was talking to Donovan. Her eyes widened when she saw Sherlock, who waved at her happily.

'What's... isn't he...?'

'Afternoon, Donovan. Wouldn't talk about the whole affair now, bit of a sensitive subject with Adele.' Sherlock replied, cheerfully, as Adele scowled at him.

Donovan glared at Sherlock and Adele, choosing to ignore John, whom she had never especially hated.

'This is a crime scene, not a fairground. You shouldn't even be here!'

'Thanks for informing me of the plainly obvious, Donovan. As always, you see, but you don't observe!'

Donovan looked incredibly annoyed. Lestrade muttered something to her, and led the way into the house, attracting odd looks from everyone else.

'Ronald Adair, son of the Earl of Maynooth, high colonial official in Australia. No obvious motive, guy doesn't appear to have any enemies. Looks like he was working on some sort of accounts, we've got the papers somewhere. Seemed to play cards, but doesn't look like it was for large sums of money, from what we've found. Saying that, he once came out with £420 from a bloke named Moran. It definitely wasn't a robbery, nothings been taken. What do you think?'

Sherlock had only seemed to listen to about half of Lestrade's information. He had set to work, looking out of the window, inspecting the door and all sorts.

'Door was locked from the inside?'

'Yes, and – '

'So, the only other way out was the window.'

Sherlock went back to the window, and Adele followed.

'There's about a twenty foot drop from here.' Adele frowned. 'And the flowers haven't been touched…'

Sherlock went back to doing whatever he did. Adele had long ago given up on guessing how it was important.

'You got anything?' Lestrade was growing steadily impatient, and Sherlock was blatantly ignoring him.

'A few theories.'

'Can you explain any of them?'

'No. Your tiny little brain would have too much trouble comprehending them.'

Lestrade obviously didn't want to put up with this. Either the force were being asked to investigate quickly, or it looked as though the newspapers would be descending upon them soon.

'Sherlock, someone has just – '

'Yes, yes, someone's just been killed. Give me twenty four hours.'

Back to normal, it seemed. Lestrade sighed.

'Can you just-'

'How was he killed?' Sherlock asked, impatiently.

'Revolver, by the looks of things.'

'No. Revolver bullet, but not a revolver.'

'What? Look, if you already know, then why – ?'

'No one heard a shot?'

'Not that we know of, no, but – '

'Then it wasn't a revolver, someone would've heard it.'

'But it's the only possible – '

'No. You've found a plausible explanation, which won't come under fire. You haven't found an actual explanation.'

'Well it explains all the facts – '

'No! It explains a few of the facts! Not all of them!' Adele said. She had stepped in now, to prevent a potential argument.

'But it explains why the bullet is identified as a revolver bullet, and – '

'But it doesn't explain why no one heard the shot.'

'Maybe it was – '

'Of course it wasn't quiet, revolvers are ridiculously loud.'

'Then maybe – '

'If he was killed when you say he was, then someone would have heard it. You said no one heard a shot; you can hear a revolver within a two mile radius.'

Lestrade sighed. 'But – '

'Revolvers are loud, Lestrade. Someone would have heard it. You're looking for a quiet weapon. We know it was a bullet; therefore it has to be something capable of firing a shot. Not much fits that description, so it could have been something rigged to fire a revolver bullet. You can't convert most firing weapons, so that narrows the field considerably. Conclusion, you're looking for a converted and quiet weapon, most likely an air gun!'

Lestrade stared at her.

'You're welcome.'

Lestrade took out his radio, and walked off, muttering into it. Donovan glared at Adele, incredibly pissed off. Adele turned around, to find Sherlock grinning.

'Nice work.'

'What? Oh, thanks. It's a bit obvious, really. I was mainly doing it to annoy him.'

'So, you got any more ideas?'

'No. You?'

'Still a few.'

'You going to explain them?'

'No. I need to do an experiment.'

'Oh no. Not another one.'

'Yes, another one. Why's that particularly bad?'

'Because your last one almost destroyed the flat, that's why.'

'Actually, I'm going to call upon the assistance of our good friend Molly. Coming?'

'Might as well. Hang on, does she know about…?'

'No. Oh. Well, she will in a few minutes.'

John was hanging around outside, for some reason. Adele gave him a questioning look.

'Best not to interfere.' He muttered, clearly not wanting Sherlock to hear.

'What? You didn't care before.'

'It's his first case after... all of this. Let him get on with it.'

'No way. You can't let him off because he basically traumatised us all. Look, he wants to do an experiment, at Bart's, and Molly doesn't know yet. I think she'll need... Moral support? Or something.'

'Shit.'

'We've been saying that an awful lot lately.'

'Hm. What's he experimenting?'

'Not sure, I saw him chiseling at the floor, probably something to do with that. He's working a lot faster, actually.'

'Interesting.'

'Not really.'

By now, Sherlock had made his way back across the road, and was standing there waiting for Adele and John.

'Hurry up!'