Mr. Inspector

The legendary Diogenes Club.

The atmosphere was eerily quiet.

The light of a huge ornate chandelier was lost in the carpet.

In a room with an open layout, many high-level figures of the British government who seldom show up are sitting strangely and quietly in comfortable soft chairs, holding books or newspapers in their hands. The overall environment is comfortably and elegantly arranged. grace.These big shots focused on the reading material in front of them, and they had no words to communicate with each other.

Of course eye contact is inevitable——

As soon as Lestrade walked in, he saw an old general he knew before. He looked around first, and then hesitated to say hello as a former subordinate. Mr. General's eyes noticed him. .

The inspector immediately stood up straight on the spot with a serious expression, and stretched out his hand to salute.

The general waved his hand in time to stop him, then leaned forward, lip-synced and asked him——what are you doing here?

The inspector glanced around and answered his question as quietly as possible—I don't know either.

The old general's eyes are not very good - what did you say?

"I said..." Lestrade knew something was wrong as soon as he uttered his voice. When all the senior government figures, familiar or unfamiliar, were all startled by the sudden voice, they looked up at you and shook their heads or disagreed. When looking at him... Mr. Inspector, who is a junior subordinate, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and his mouth became parched.

The old general quietly hid a magazine with a modern girl on the cover in his hand, followed everyone's gaze, and silently condemned our Mr. Detective——

"Uh... sorry to bother you."

As a result of Lestrade's apology, he received more stern eyes of condemnation. Many old people frowned dissatisfied and looked at him up and down, their faces full of violated and arrogant expressions...

The composure on the inspector's face was almost gone, and he even had the illusion that his job was about to be lost.

Two staff rushed over to clean up the scene in time... So Lestrade was invited out semi-forcibly.

To be honest, he was still a little grateful to these two people wearing cleaning gloves. God knows what he went through just now.

After walking out of that room, Lestrade breathed a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes to ease his emotions, and then walked into the innermost office according to the instructions of the staff.

Then at a glance, he saw the man in the most decent three-piece suit in front of him, holding a small black umbrella habitually in his hand as before.

However, compared with the previous appearance, it can be clearly felt that he has lost a lot of weight.

—It was Mycroft.

Realizing this, Lestrade froze in place, speechless for a while.

Mycroft, who was standing there, saw him coming in and naturally raised his hand to him, signaling the inspector to sit in the opposite seat.

It was a mahogany sofa with upholstery, about five feet away from the chair he was sitting on, and there was an exquisite small table between the two chairs, on which two cups of black tea were placed.

Lestrade moved his legs and sat down according to his instructions, his face was still stiff up to now.In fact, as Anthea said in the car, he did know the person in front of him, and he had to admit their previous close relationship.

McCaw sat down quite comfortably.

"Today, the weather is fine." The inspector took the lead in breaking the deadlock.

"Correct."

"Well, this little black umbrella matches you well."

"I've always thought so."

Mr. Inspector had nothing to say. He picked up the teacup in front of him, took a sip and said, "—so?"

It happened that Mycroft spoke at the same time as him, "So..."

Lestrade immediately put down the teacup, looked at him seriously, and motioned him to speak first.

The little black umbrella lightly turned an arc in Mycroft's hand, he looked into Lestrade's eyes and said, "I think you've seen Sherlock, he helped you solve the subway bombing last week , but you certainly don’t remember him anymore.”

"Sherlock?" Lestrade immediately responded, "...Holmes." He had always thought this surname was familiar before, but he didn't expect it to be the person in front of him——

"Brother." Mycroft confirmed his guess.

This word instantly evoked Lestrade's long memory. If I remember correctly, he seemed to have——

"Punch him." Mycroft affirmed him once again.

Lestrade covered his mouth, he opened his eyes wide and looked at the ceiling reflected on the smooth black tea surface on the table, and he didn't speak for a long time.

The memory is inevitably a little chaotic, the restless hormones in his body when he was young now seem to be completely dead, everything that happened that day was sealed, he tried to forget these - "So?"

"so……"

Once again they spoke at the same time.

The inspector signaled him to speak first with his eyes.

The little black umbrella in Mycroft's hand turned an arc again, "I'm going to hand Sherlock into your hands now."

The detective didn't understand for a while, "What?"

"I believe that through the acquaintance these few days, you have a deeper understanding of my brother. He enjoys all complicated and dangerous cases, and often puts himself in deep danger...Of course you also know that he will not fight with him." At the same time, he will not protect himself.” Mycroft looked at Lestrade and said softly, with an elegant tone, “London has not been peaceful these past few years, and Scotland Yard needs the help of his genius brain, but he also need your help."

"I will do my best to protect him," Lestrade assured him immediately.

Mycroft smiled. "I trust you, Greg."

Lestrade looked at him motionless, his heart beat uncontrollably, and he immediately coughed to cover up.

Mycroft looked directly at him, then suddenly stood up from the sofa chair, the little black umbrella was still in his hand, "Okay, after explaining this, it's time to talk about our affairs."

Lestrade's body stiffened suddenly, "Me, us?"

"Yes, we. As old friends who have known each other for a long time, it is rare to see each other, but the only conversation is this... How should I put it, it is too bad."

"...Then let's talk about the past?" Lestrade asked tentatively.

"Just to my liking."

"How has your life been these past few years? Oh, I can see..." The inspector looked at the exquisite layout around him, nodded subconsciously, and then changed the subject in a flash of his mind—"Are you married?" Yet?"

"……No."

"Feel sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry." Mycroft frowned, and the little black umbrella tapped the ground.

The inspector who looked up at the former suddenly felt that it was not polite for him to sit all the time, so he moved his body.

"Just sit down."

"No, I'm still—"

"I like you sitting." Mycroft interrupted him directly.

The inspector didn't dare to move at once, his eyes narrowly fixed on his own cup of black tea.

"You are divorced, and your wife abandoned you with the child." After feeling the hurt eyes of the man on the other side, Mycroft couldn't help slowing down his voice, "I'm sorry about this. It's just that I can't think about it all the time. I understand the reason why you insisted on leaving and rushed to get married back then."

Lestrade sat silent for a while after listening to him.

"I, I used to think of you as my best...friend, maybe not for you...but really, if something happens to you, I'll be the first to go."

Mycroft stood opposite him, quietly listening to his narration.

"I don't know why... you know, after that day, I was in a mess." Lestrade's voice was full of painful thoughts, "I don't know what I was thinking at that time... oh For God's sake, spare me!"

He could not continue, and after a hasty farewell, he left the room.

Mycroft stood still and didn't stop him, but his expression was really not good.

His unmoving cup of black tea was lying quietly on the table at this moment.

As for the other cup, there were slight ripples.

After standing there for a while, Mycroft returned to his seat, falling into long-lost contemplation.