A cheap hotel on the outskirts of London, the son of a very influential Chinese government official, a dead party girl, and a drug dealer. The rich boy and the drug dealer of course both claimed that the other one had killed the girl in a jealous rage over the other one, but both had been drunk and neither one of them really knew what happened that night.
Complications - the Chinese government was trying to get their little reprobate back.
Further complications - the dead party girl was the niece of the Home Secretary and a member of the Peerage, besides.
So naturally, a Holmes was sent to see what they could do to solve the issue. In this situation, the first one on-scene outside the police was surprisingly, the older Holmes. Even stranger than that, was who had called him.
He stepped out of the sleek car, crisp and dangerous in his dark suit with the yellow tie, his lips pressed in a thin line as he looked around. "Oh joy. A diplomatic nightmare waiting to happen."
Sally Donovan glowered at him as he approached the police line, Anthea in tow. "Oi now, this is a murder scene."
"Oh gracious, really? I thought it was the line for the ice cream truck. What with the flashing lights and cheery looking folk, all about." Mycroft smiled, one that actually made Sally look uneasy. "Off you go, Sergeant Donovan. I'm here for Inspector Lestrade. He ... called for me."
Where it began.
A cheap hotel on the outskirts of London, the son of a very influential Chinese government official, a dead party girl, and a drug dealer. The rich boy and the drug dealer of course both claimed that the other one had killed the girl in a jealous rage over the other one, but both had been drunk and neither one of them really knew what happened that night.
Complications - the Chinese government was trying to get their little reprobate back.
Further complications - the dead party girl was the niece of the Home Secretary and a member of the Peerage, besides.
So naturally, a Holmes was sent to see what they could do to solve the issue. In this situation, the first one on-scene outside the police was surprisingly, the older Holmes. Even stranger than that, was who had called him.
He stepped out of the sleek car, crisp and dangerous in his dark suit with the yellow tie, his lips pressed in a thin line as he looked around. "Oh joy. A diplomatic nightmare waiting to happen."
Sally Donovan glowered at him as he approached the police line, Anthea in tow. "Oi now, this is a murder scene."
"Oh gracious, really? I thought it was the line for the ice cream truck. What with the flashing lights and cheery looking folk, all about." Mycroft smiled, one that actually made Sally look uneasy. "Off you go, Sergeant Donovan. I'm here for Inspector Lestrade. He ... called for me."