Welcome to Baker Street

33. The Greek interpreter

New Scotland Yard

Twenty minutes later

"You shouldn't be here."

Sherlock has just walked through the glass doors of New Scotland Yard when Sally Donovan welcomes him with an annoyed expression on her face.

"I was summoned," he replies without even looking in her direction.

She frowns. "By whom?"

"Me," Lestrade interjects, strolling across the entrance hall.

She turns to him, appalled. "Really? The freak?"

Greg scowls at her. "Sergeant Donovan, this is a very delicate and complex case."

"We can handle it," she protests vehemently, making her curls wobble around her head.

"I know. But I want to be certain, so Sherlock will help question the suspect."

"He can't. He's not even a police officer." Sally's voice is boiling with anger.

"That's why you will be in the interrogation room with him." Greg gives her an exasperated look. He hates it when Donovan assumes he hasn't taken every detail into account. He is her boss, after all.

"She won't cooperate with me," Sherlock complains.

"He won't let me do my job," she protests, glaring at the unexpected guest.

"Okay, now listen to me, you two." Lestrade displays his inflexible fatherly tone and scratches one of his grizzled sideburns, trying not to lose his temper. He turns to the stubborn detective. "Sherlock, could you please remember that Sergeant Donovan is not your assistant? She's a police officer." Then he turns to point a finger at Sally. "As for you, Donovan, your job consists of arresting criminals. Now, if you want to be 100% sure that the woman in our holding room is actually guilty, you'll trust him and his methods. Are we clear?"

He glowers at both of them as if he was dealing with spoiled children.

"Yes, sir," Sally reluctantly replies as Sherlock nods imperceptibly and moves to the interrogation room.

Interrogation room

"Sherlock, thank goodness. Could you please explain to me what on earth is going on?" Giulia greets him springing to her feet. Her movement causes the cuffs around her wrists to jingle against the metal table, restraining her.

"First, I am leading the interrogation, so I will be the one asking questions, and you will provide proper answers. Understood?" He looks sternly at her.

She tilts her head, gaping at his brusque manner, then smiles ironically. "Are you serious?"

"You don't seem to get it. I'll try again," he begins with an icy glare.

"Okay, okay. Just get started," she cuts him short, sitting back down and showing her hands in surrender.

Sherlock nods at the policewoman who followed him into the room. "This is Sergeant Donovan—"

"I know. We've already met," Giulia interrupts him, casting a bored look at Sally.

"Marvellous." Holmes simpers at the two of them. "Let's skip to the interesting part, then. Giulia, you've been accused of the murder of Michael Chadley."

She arches a brow. She already got the memo. What is still missing, though, is a proper explanation.

"On what grounds?"