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Summary
As if on cue, a solid thump and groan sounded from upstairs. Mrs. Hudson winced.
"Do make them stop that, would you? Before I have to raise the rent again?”
Lestrade nodded. Only the Holmes brothers would find something to violently row over on Christmas Eve.
He went silently up the stairs, yielding to the police instinct to approach and assess before acting. The noise had stopped, but that didn’t mean that things had ended amicably.
The door was ajar, so he carefully peered into the flat. What he saw made his eyes pop and mouth go dry.
Mycroft had Sherlock pressed against the wall. But Lestrade could see immediately that they were not fighting.