Gregory had been sat in his car for more than a couple of hours, looking around him to a calm neighbourhood of Islington and h neck was becoming increasingly stiff. He yawned and took a look at his watch only to acknowledge that he already had looked at it less than five minute before. Rowan Artwood, a junior officer who had joined Donovan's team just a month before, was sat beside him, looking at a small monitor that was broadcasting blurry image from camera that had been placed in order to see through the windows of the number 16 of the street.
"Any movement ?" the inspector wondered, even if there was no chance that the situation had changed in the last couple of minute since last time he had asked.
"No. He must still be upstairs." his younger colleague replied, not even bothering to look at him.
"I swear that if he doesn't go out this afternoon I'll make the one who gave us that information scrub the floor of the yard on their knee and with a toothbrush for the rest of their life." the yarder cursed, not in the mood for having been played at.
Rowan let out a little giggle, sharing the other man's frustration but too polite to complain. He wasn't even suppose to work on this case that had been opened more than a month before his arrival in the forces, but a shortage in the available agent and the close relation between his boss and her ex-boss had him trapped in a car for hours.
He was considering how dull his work was and how it wasn't what he had expected to do when he entered the academy when he detected a move in the corner of one of the room under surveillance.
"Here. In the kitchen." he quickly reacted, pointing out the blurry silhouette to his colleague.
"Am the only one to think that he have changed his outfit or is it real ?" Greg remarked, trying to get a better view at the monitor.
"Yes." his colleague confirmed as he got a better look at the silhouette.
They went back silent as they focused on the moving man on the monitor, relief to finally see a sign of movement after hours of dullness.
The man they were overlooking was pacing around the kitchen, a cup in one hand and something that Lestrade understood to be a phone in the other. It wasn't as a big move as they were expecting, but they had good hopes that it was the sign that he was preparing to exit the house.
As they were still looking at the small screen, the detective's phone rang and displayed a text sent by DI Hebbletwaite informing him that a cellphone signal had been detected inside the house of the man under surveillance, confirming what Greg had deduced. A second text came right after disclosing the main information discussed by the man and his interlocutor and making it sure that he was going to come out of his house soon for a mysterious delivery.
It was one more hour before they saw the man making his way to his lobby and putting on a light jacket. As he opened the door, the two policeman exited the anonymous car and made their way toward him. They placed themselves n front of him but as they were putting their hand in their pocket to grab their badges and show them to him, the man outthinked them and threw a powerful jab to Rowan's face, knocking him to the ground, before he started running down the road.
"Shit." Lestrade thought angrily, turning on his heels and sprinting after his suspect. None of them had ever anticipated that the man could actually try to run away as he was supposed to be nothing else but a little fish and the inspector was not at all equipped for a foot chase. He was sporting some new loafer that Mycroft had brought him back from his last trip to Italy and rather tight trousers that he had though would make him a nice silhouette when he bought them but that were just slightly to small, not that he would have ever admitted that for the world.
The suspect took a left turn, jumping over a barrier and pushing aside a young man who was showing his back to him as the yarder was coming closer to him. Unfortunately, the poor outfit of the policeman forced him to go all the way around the barriers, and he again let the man take several dozens of meter in advance of him.
As the afternoon was approaching its end, more and more people were walking the streets, going back home after a day at work and the suspect took that opportunity to try and disappear in the rabble entering Archway's tube station. The platform was so crowded that the detective nearly lost the man he was following but thankfully enough he was a little taller than most the people around, and he finally located him as he was trying to take the exit on the opposite side of the platform.
Without caring too much about the fact that he was probably hurting a little bit the surrounding people, Gregory pressed his way through the mob, shooting the word police a dozen of time before he made it to where the suspect had disappeared. The exit followed on a large and mostly unused tunnel, making it possible for the policeman to speed up.
He nearly fell a couple of time because of the slippery floor but people passing by helped him find back his balance without having to stop and as he arrived to the end of the tunnel, he could see his suspect again, half-way up the stairs.
He knew that he needed to catch the man before he reached the street, or he was sure to lose him in the crowded streets of the Archway junction. With strength he didn't even knew he had, he started climbing the stairs four by four, catching the man's wrist right before he made to the pavement. The suspect quickly turned on himself to get rid of the policeman but as Greg shouted "Police, order you to stop and surrender." four blocks in their twenties helped him catch both of the man arms and kept him in that position for enough time to give the detective a chance to handcuff him.
The man had already stayed silent for four hours when Gregory entered the interrogation room to fill up for his colleague who was desperately in need of a break. The suspect was sat straight on his chair, showing no expression at all. It was just like talking to a wall and as soon as the policeman took his place on the opposite side of the table, he knew he wouldn't have any answers to his questions either.
Ten minutes later he was already out of the room and ordered two of his colleague to take back the man to his cell. As he had refused to give a sample of his DNA, his only chance to be able to charge him was to have him formerly identified by the victim. Yet, he was hesitating to call him, the poor child still hadn't fully recovered from his injuries and his doctors being more than reluctant to let him out of the hospital due to his mental condition at the time.
Sally was working behind her desk, heavily absorbed in the content of a beige file, a pad covered in her writing right before her. Lestrade approached behind her without a sound and placed his hand oh her shoulder, making her jump in scare.
"God damn it Greg !" she outcry, showing her fist to the man.
"Good evening dear." the detective winked. "Have you got a little time for me ?"
"Depends on what ?" the young woman retorted, pushing away the files as a way to show him that she was ready to listen to him.
"It's that Arny case." the inspector explained. "We caught the man, but he won't give his DNA or collaborate."
"Ask the kid to identify him." simply retorted his colleague, not understanding his point.
"The doctors are not all for it I'm afraid." the man shook his head.
"Ah. That's a problem." Donovan nodded. "What about you go to him with several pictures of alike looking men and you ask him to identify the one who attack him ? Might be better for him no ?"
"He'll still have to come and identify him in person." the DCI remarked.
"But you could charge him on reasonable doubts. It will take ages before any judgment will be held, giving Arny plenty of time to get well and identify him formerly." the woman replied, convincing her colleague.
"Hmm. What would do without you ?" Lestrade smiled.
"Get me out for lunch tomorrow and that will do." Sally chuckled as the man was already turning on his heel and running toward his office to gather the pictures he needed.
"In your dreams." he shouted from the other side of the open space, perfectly aware that he would do it nonetheless.
An hour and a half later, Gregory was in the best mood ever. Arny had confirmed that the man they had caught was indeed the man that had attacked him. The doctors were also very positive about the possibility for the young boy to exit the hospital very quickly.
Stepping through the hospital's door, the detective grabbed his phone in his pocket and texted his husband that he was on his way back home and would pick up his son and daughter at Sherlock's place on the way.
He wasn't even back to his car when he received a reply. Mycroft informed him that he had had the children picked up by Mr and Mrs Lestrade and that he was willing to take him to a diner. The inspector grumbled, not really in the mood for an official diner of any sort but yet, he was still a little flattered that the official had wished to show his better-half at a diner, something he didn't often do.
"Clarence House at 8." a new text read.
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