perception of the mind (sh adaptation)

Thirty Four • The Misperception

"We know what we are, but know not what we may be."

-William Shakespeare, 1564-1616

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"Her name's Claudia Grover."

John leaned over the desk and let his eyes skim the file. "Right. And she was the victim's colleague?"

"Yeah, but not only that. Her father," said Lestrade. "Is the CEO of the airline. Completely runs the place."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Because she also took time off a few days before Jennifer Ledger was killed. We're thinking that maybe.. Dunno, maybe Ms Grover might have some insight on her death."

John nodded, glancing at Sherlock.

"What?" the detective asked.

"No no no, don't act candid now. Tell Lestrade what you've done."

"I simply- Well.."

Greg glared at him with narrowed eyes.

But before any of them could speak, the door burst open. "What the hell is going on?!" shouted a woman.

A man guided her inside. "Sit, sit, sit.." he muttered over the commotion pushing her by the shoulders into a chair.

"Wait, who.. Do you work here?" Lestrade pointed at him.

"No," he replied with a thick, European accent.

Sherlock smiled, reaching deep into his pocket, pulling out a wad of cash and handing it to the strange man. "Thank you."

"Welcome," said the man gruffly.

The woman had long, blonde hair, and dressed in a blue uniform. She twisted around and scrunched up her face angrily.

"Who was that?!" Lestrade asked, throwing his hands into the air as the man left the room.

"Friend."

"Friend?"

"Fine, homeless folk."

"Excuse me? And what, he just ironically saw her on the streets and decided to bring her here?"

"Yep," began John sarcastically. "We kidnap our clients now with homeless people. Can you believe it?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"No no, do you see how incredibly stupid that sounds now?"

"Please, John, it's efficient."

"Jesus Christ, efficient?"

"Yes," he began abrasively. "Lestrade, you would have needed to pick a time where Ms Grover here was away from work in order to interrogate her at the airport - get a warrant to further search her ground, tell her manager she'd be taken to the police station. But thanks to Sergio, he saw her walking home and promptly brought her here. Efficient. Oh, and the airport is too far. I didn't want to pay for the cab ride this time."

Lestrade scoffed, John pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Can someone please tell me what I'm doing here?!" the woman exclaimed.

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"Oh, you poor thing."

She laughed. "Really, Mrs Hudson, I'm okay."