Chapter Eighteen - A Rose From Any Other Person Wouldn't Smell As Sweet

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Another typical day at the office; mountains of paperwork, a constant queue at the coffee machine, Anderson being as obnoxious as possible, and Sherlock strutting around, pointing out the flaws in everyone's work.
Greg had been in the middle of sorting his way through the cold cases when Donavan walked in to present a far more intriguing case: a zookeeper had entered the armadillo pen for a routine maintenance check, disappeared completely for a few hours with no sign on the security footage, then turned up several hours later, confused and disorientated in the donkey enclosure.
Although perfectly fine at the time, the woman was found dead a week later with clear signs of asphyxiation. Two days after, the zoo advertised a missing boa constrictor.
"Give us what you've got then, Sherlock." Greg asked, sitting on the edge of his desk.
"Woman enters armadillo pen, does not leave. Clearly there is some kind of exit from the main area of the enclosure, that much is obvious - a feeding gap? Unlikely. However if I am correct, there is a small doorway for the animals in order to escape from the view of the public. As she went to check the lighting system on the back panel of the pen, she could easily have been dragged inside."
"And then what - was she drugged?"
"More likely hit her head on the way in... but how did she end up in the donkey enclosure? Ah..."
"Ah?"
"Show me the security footage. I need to know if a wagon of any kind passed the Armadillo pen."
There was a sharp knock at the door, and Donavan strode into the office.
"Something nice for you, sir. Wonder who it could be from?" Sally gave him a look of expectancy as she passed over a perfect, red rose with a small note attached.
'Thinking of you'
It read. Greg glowed with happiness - such a beautiful gesture...
"So... who is it?" Sally pressed. "You've been single forever, Greg! This is exciting!"
"Who indeed." Sherlock retorted coldly. "I'll be back later. I think Rosie and John need a trip to the Zoo.
"Don't say a word, Sherlock!" Greg called after him. Not the sort of thing you should say to Sherlock Holmes.
"Oh, before I leave, how's Mycroft doing?"
"Mycroft?! Why on earth are you involved with Mycroft Holmes?" Sally cut in, shocked. "He's worse than Sherlock!" She added quietly.
"Nothing! After the whole Sherrinford palaver, Sherlock asked me to keep half an eye on him."
"Fair enough... anyway, who is this romantic, rose-sender?"
"For me to know and you to find out."
"Why are you being all mysterious?" Sally asked. She opened the door to the open-plan area of the floor, cleared her throat and announced to the room "Listen up guys! Greg's got himself a girlfriend!" Some congratulated him with whoops and cheers, a couple lifted their coffee cups to him.
"Tell us who it is then, Greg!" Adrian Cooksey shouted, followed by mutterings of people wondering the same thing.
"Keep your nose out, you lot!" The D.I. sighed. It wasn't that he didn't want them to know... it just made things... awkward.
"I bet it's that Yvonne Parker." Someone near the back offered.
"Yvonne? Cake shop Yvonne or weird Yvonne?" Someone from the other side asked.
"Cake shop."
"Can see why Greg likes her then." Anderson joked. Greg was not impressed.
"You'd better buy me a donut for that comment Anderson." He replied, arms crossed.
"Get Yvonne to make you one!" Several people laughed.
"Anyone who found that funny can make me a cup of coffee! Now get on with what you're all meant to be doing." He returned to his office, shut the door and took out his phone.

My colleagues are *very* intrigued by the Rose you sent me

He texted.

I can imagine. Do you like it?

What, the rose?

Of course.

It's lovely! It's just... made things a little difficult this morning

I'm so sorry darling. In what way?

Everyone wants to know who my "new girlfriend" is

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