Sherlock Holmes teams up with Det. Jake Peralta in order to solve a serial murder case.
|Based on a writing prompt from Reddit . Hope you enjoy!
This is a work of fiction. I don't own any of the characters from the Sherlock Holmes series or from the series Brooklyn Nine-Nine
The great detective walked into the bullpen of the precinct's detective division, and located the man he was looking for, sitting at a particularly messy desk covered in a mixture of both paperwork and brightly-coloured plastic children's toys.
"You're Detective Jake Peralta, I presume?" he asked.
"Er, yeah. That's me. And who are you?"
"My name is Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective."
"Oh yeah, like that British guy with the weird name. What's his name...Amy likes him...er...Benedict Cabbagepatch or something?"
"Gesundheit. Anyway, how can I help?"
"I'm here in New York investigating some cases that fall under your jurisdiction, as I suspect there may be a serial killer at work. Watson, unfortunately, is back in our hotel with a case of food poisoning after he ordered the chicken from the hotel's restaurant, no matter how many times I told him that the chef was clearly not trained properly, that the food hygiene certificate had expired by several months and the waiter had a habit of putting his thumb on the steak whenever it—Are you Googling me?"
Peralta quickly looked away from the computer screen and put both hands on his lap. "Er, nope. Definitely not googling you. No way."
"You clearly are. I can even see from here that there are newly-made fingermarks on your keyboard, specifically around S, H, E, R, L, O and K. Especially because the K key appears to stick, due to a previous spillage of orange juice."
"It was orange soda, actually, so stick that in your pipe and smoke it!" rebutted Peralta, before realising that he'd ended up proving the detective's point.
"Yes, that would be inappropriate, as smoking isn't allowed in public buildings such as this one."
"Wow, you make even Captain Holt look like a barrel of laughs."
"He's actually quite humorous."
"Whatever! So what do you want from me?"
"I'd just like to review your case files. It would certainly save an unnecessary trip from here to the crime scene, as I'm sure the photographic records taken by your partner are more than able to suffice, especially since he's been taking photography lessons recently with his wife."
"I have!" exclaimed Charles Boyle with the excitement of a ten year-old from his desk on the other end of the bullpen. "It's all about framing him properly and—"
"Yeah, doesn't really matter there, bud!" said Peralta with a friendly smile and wave. "But seriously, how can you tell?"
"Because the photographic records on the desk feature a unique set of framing particular to those who have recently taken photography classes and are still working to improve. It was also taken by a brand new Nikon camera with specialised high definition enhancement software built in, specifically for law enforcement agencies such as the NYPD."
"Seriously! How do you know all that? I can't even remember what I had for breakfast this morning."
"I'm Sherlock Holmes. It's my business to know what other people don't know. And I know you had yoghurt and muesli this morning, as your wife is growing concerned about the state of your teeth from continuous candy consumption."
"Wow. You are good. And how'd you guess that? From looking at my teeth and seeing that I've a candy wrapper poking up the drop drawer of my desk? Or tailing me to see that I went to buy some candy whenever on my lunch break?"
"No, your wife told me downstairs in the foyer. It's incredibly obvious to everyone, including him, and I believe that you'll be in quite a lot of trouble whenever you get home this evening, and your plans for the evening with him are most decidedly cancelled, so I personally wouldn't bother going back to the grocery store in order to pick up some cond—"
"Alright, alright! I get it. Just take the files and go."
Holmes opened the first file and quickly skim-read it before placing it back on the desk again.
"You're looking for a Joseph Phillips. He has dirt on his shoes from the Greenwood Heights area, so I'd suggest checking the property registers there for an address. A dental assistant, British by birth, American by naturalisation, with a rock climbing hobby, you'll find he has the same rope he used to strangle each of his victims."
"Oh seriously, how on earth could you know that?!"
"Like I said, it's my business to know what others don't know. I'd suggest you go and try to get a warrant now before he makes his escape to Canada by bus. And there's a misspelling on that Wikipedia article about me, so I would exactly call it credible." Holmes turned and left.
"So it's elementary then?" Peralta called after him.
"I never said that!" Holmes replied, as he disappeared down the stairs again.