The crime scene was abuzz with activity. Not only were Lestrade and his team there, but someone had alerted the media and several news anchors were crawling around, trying to get the most dramatic shot of the pile of mutilated bodies.
As soon as Sherlock and John showed up, cameras and microphones were thrust into their faces.
"Mr. Holmes! Mr. Holmes! What do you think happened?"
"What do you think was the perpetrator's motivation?"
"Where is your hat?"
Grabbing Sherlock's sleeve, John pulled him off to the side, and dragged him under the police tape, out of reach of the media vultures.
"We've been through this a few times now, Sherlock. Just ignore them. Don't give them any info, don't give them any more reason to make you their darling of the week."
Sherlock nodded and turned his attention to the victims. He'd just bent down and pulled his magnifier out when one of the seedier-looking reporters leaned over the barricade and shouted.
"Mr. Holmes, what is the nature of your relationship with Dr. Watson?"
Before Sherlock had time to open his mouth, John glanced over and gave him the look. The one that said let him know this was no time for arguments, no time for dissecting the poor news anchors on live television. The one that just said behave.