The Blog of Gregory S. Lestrade (canon)

[GREGORY LESTRADE]

The Blog of Gregory S. Lestrade

Untitled
5 October, 2011

So, to the population of one that is reading this blog (yes, I mean you Elliot) I’ve finally broken down due to my brother’s constant wining that I don’t tell him enough about anything, and so I’m writing a blog. Anyone else who’s actually bothering to read this? Well, I have no idea why you are, it’s going to be painfully dull I suspect, but… Enjoy.

Anyway, before anyone thinks to ask, yes I have a middle name, and no I am not telling you what it is. Let’s say it has to do with plants breeding and leave it at that. Elliot, do not doubt for a second that I will not murder you if you tell anyone.

Gee, I almost wrote a swear word there. I probably shouldn’t do that though, seeing as this is the internet… Keeping it clean and all. After all, I do have some of my own men trollingpatrolling through random sites just looking for reasons to fire their coworkers. Anything for a promotion, I suppose.

…I’m not really sure what people write in blogs. I know it’s supposed to be like a journal, but I’ve never written a journal before, and this seems so much less personal that it would be if I was writing this down on paper… I must warn whoever’s reading this: I’m not the best writer. Most of my writing skills has come from writing pages upon pages of dull case reports. Bear with me.

Off-topic. See, I’ve already derailed myself and I’m not even interacting with anyone else. What was I saying? Oh right, what people put in their blogs. So far with a six second Google search (oh that magical tool) I’ve found out that people make the titles their names. That’s about it.

I guess I’ll just put cases in here, seeing as nothing else really happens in my life… See, more dullness.

Um… I busted some kids for doing graffiti at uni, that was not fun. Oh! And I’ve taken care of some really interesting petty crime because some subordinates think being hung over is a good excuse for not coming to work (it bloody well isn’t!). See, this is sort of why I don’t like writing on a blog… You can’t convey sarcasm into the words. Well, not that well. Not that I’m extremely sadistic, but… Still. You get my point. Hopefully.

Anyway, that’s enough for now; I’m honestly stumped about what to write/what’s worth reading. Um… have a nice day…?

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[GREGORY LESTRADE]

The Blog of Gregory S. Lestrade

 
Introduction
8 October, 2011
 

I guess I should make an introduction, shouldn't I? I also realized I never gave my first entry a title. Gee, I'm off to a positively smashing start with all this blogging business.
 
Right, so I'm Gregory Lestrade, detective inspector. I'm from Dublin, Ireland, and I moved to New York City about a week and a half ago, the twenty-fifth of the ninth. Not much of an introduction, I know, but what else am I supposed to say? Um… I've got a beautiful daughter, Dolores, and prat of a brother, Elliot (they both live in California), and a few others siblings and a mam and dad living in Ireland still that don't really give a donkey's arse about what I'm doing out here.
 
So far, New York's been… interesting, to say the least. The traffic's awful and the air smells, and the people can be pretty rude, specifically on the tube, but not all of them.
 
I got a library card, met a pretty nice young woman there who apparently recognized me from work. I also met some guy named Alfonso in an alley way at night who, for some reason, I let myself be persuaded into a date by. I mean, am I really that stupid? Really.
 
I've already managed to embarrass myself quite epically too: Last week I'd gone for a few at the local pub, just to relax a bit (shut up Elliot, I didn't get totally smashed) when I met a really beautiful woman, who simply called herself… The Woman. Not that hard to guess what she did for a living. But she was incredibly nice, and intelligent, and so I ended up talking to her. Which, of course, turned into drinking with her. Which, somehow, ended up with me waking up in her flat.
 
Now, before you make any judgments, NO, I did NOT have sex with her. I was a bit freaked out when I woke up in her couch that'd I'd done so myself, but I wasn't sore anywhere, and given her profession, I assume I would be after sex with her. She assured me that we merely talked until I was too drunk to make my way back home without being hit by a car, and so she let me sleep at her place. So it's innocent enough… I suppose. I'm lucky she didn't take advantage of me really.
 
Finally, the last thing that's happened is an investigation, the one that's been covered by professional journalists (http://www.ynn.com/museum-break-in/d50dkw304fjk). Some psychopath broke into the mummy exhibit and made a total fool of the display, before murdering and placing some other people there. That’s not nearly the most interesting thing that happened though: I met there a Mr. Sherlock Holmes. The man is, quite simply, completely distracted, unprofessional, and very Aspergerish. Apparently he helps out on a lot of the police cases around here. And I have to admit, his level of genius is… astounding. Not that I like him, though.

 

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[GREGORY LESTRADE]

The Blog of Gregory S. Lestrade

Another Strange Meeting
19 October, 2011

The are a lot of interesting people in this city. Remember how in my last entry I mentioned meeting Sherlock Holmes? Well, I met his brother too. I know right: There's two of them! But then, I must say… Well this meeting went a lot worse.

So I was at this little Chinese restaurant I've been going to for some food. I'd ordered and was turning to leave when WHAM! I ran right into another man. I spilled my soup all over him (and me), ruining the guy's phone and jacket. Now, I have to say, the guy may have called me something like "stupid copper" before running off to the bathroom.

I followed him where, as we cleaned ourselves up, we had a bit of a conversation. Now, unless memory fails me, it went something along the very abridged lines of:

Me: "I'm sorry!"

Man: "Don't cry, and you look like a kicked puppy."

Me: "I do not! Your accent, are you from England?"

Man: "Yes. Also I'm an amazing lawyer and can easily sue you."

And then he proceeded to sort of… deduce my life story based on my own accent. It was equal parts impressive or horrible; I felt a little too much like a specimen.

While this whole conversation took place, I… Well, I did sort of burn myself on my chest, and Mycroft helped me by… Um… Well, let's just say, the man doesn't have much modesty when it comes to ripping another man's clothes off in a public bathroom. Basically, he gave me wet paper towels (literally, that's NOT a metaphor for something).

I learned that the man's named was Mycroft Holmes, and everything immediately clicked info play. Dear God, there's another one. Anyway, we left the bathroom and I told him that he could call me at the station sometime to arrange for me to pay for the damages I'd made to his phone and jacket. He agreed and said he'd have his secretary – his secretary - do so.

So far, I've been lucky enough not to face the absolute wrath of Mycroft Holmes, but what I have faced, well… In comparison to his brother, he seems a bit like a more composed and yet also looser than Sherlock, if you know what I mean. Anyway, he hasn't called me yet, but I'm expecting to pay a fortune for what I've done. That makes me sound like a criminal, doesn't it, what I've done? Ah, the power of words.

On a side note, I've been reading in the paper about some event called New York comic con. I'm not really sure what it's about, but apparently it's really big deal around here. But the thing that intrigues me the most? Doctor Who! I didn't even realize that old show's been started up again. Kind of fascinating really; I remember growing up with it. I did a little research and the new episodes actually seem pretty interesting. Perhaps I'll find the time to watch some… someday. Okay, probably never, but I still find the idea that the show's back kind of incredible.

Also, apparently there's a Halloween party for anyone who wants to go in the city held at the mayor's soon. I probably won't go, I'd have no idea what to do there or what to dress up as, but I do find it rather hilarious that the person hosting it is the mayor, of all people. The guy certainly seems like a character.

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[GREGORY LESTRADE]

The Blog of Gregory S. Lestrade

Drowning on Dry Land
2 November, 2011

So yesterday, I was on a case with Sargent Barney. We were called this morning; apparently some idiot had driven their car into the water. When we got there, there were two very strange things happening. One: was that there was absolutely no car in the water, but a car in fact parked quite still on the dock. And second, there were two men dead inside. There was no evidence of the car even touching the water, and yet examination showed that the men had, in fact, been killed not through drowning, but serious decomposition and burning in their lungs.

Naturally, we checked the water for another car, but there was none. The person who called the station had left a very quick message:

“Help me! Please, we’re drowning, our car is in the lake and we’re drowning!”

I didn’t know what that meant, but we identified the men as 32-year-old Carl Huston and 28-year-old Mark Banes. Neither had any reason to be in the city. Their families both lived in Florida, which suggests that they made the trip together, and for a specific purpose. Further questioning of the families revealed that the two boys had never been friends, rather, had gotten in trouble several times for street fights.

Puzzled? I was too.

It took a while, but we finally figured it out. The two boys were part of a suicide pact. They had gone to both high school and college together, and Carl had always used Mark as a personal and forced assistant. Mark had never been happy to do the work, but did it anyway. However, Carl suffered from severe manic depression and out of the blue decided to end it. A close friend of Carl’s, Nancy, told us this. It didn’t take too much questioning for her to admit that Carl had told her that she didn’t want his parents to think it was suicide, and had gotten Mark to get in on the plan with him to disguise it.

Mark obviously refused, but we learned that he had always lived in relative poverty, one of the reasons for his teasing in school. Carl, on the other hand, was very rich, and must have promised Mark that he would give his family a lot of money if he accepted. Mark did.

Carl had Mark call the police this morning, and then both men proceeded to consume large amounts of dry ice. Neither of the boys realized that consuming dry ice does not result in drowning, but rather, a type of burning. However the end result is the same: both boys were dead. However, true to promise, Mark’s parents did find a large sum of money in the bank accounts this morning. As there was really no one perpetrator – though Nancy was arrested - the case is practically closed already. It’s a sad one, really.

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[GREGORY LESTRADE]

The Blog of Gregory S. Lestrade

Happy Veteran's Day
11 November, 2011

To all the men and woman who have served or fought in any war, whether it be as a soldier, mechanic, doctor or other: I solute you in your duty. To the young people still fighting today: God be with you.

I was thinking of all the courage these people who go out and fight for their country must have. When I was younger, I briefly thought of joining the army; looked it up and everything. But even that was too much. I could never fight like that. Perhaps in another time, in other circumstances, but in this life, no. Especially now that I have my daughter. I don't know how people who have children can stand to do it.

My dad was in the army during the last stretches of WWII, but not nearly long enough to come home with major honors. However I can't help but still be impressed; the amount of training and discipline any person needs to get through in order to make it in that brutal world deserves respect in and of itself.

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[GREGORY LESTRADE]

The Blog of Gregory S. Lestrade

New Case
30 November, 2011

Here’s an interesting and admittedly rather disturbing case the team and I were called in to investigate two days ago.

Thirty-two-year-old Mary Kimberly was at her small house with only her ten month old baby, Charles, when a man knocked on the door. He said he was a newspaper salesman. After Kimberly declined his offer to sell her a subscription to his magazine, he asked for a drink of water. Kimberly tried to ask him politely to leave when he suddenly pushed past her and marched into her house. He took out a gun and removed what turned out to be a wig. Kimberly recognized him as a Mr. Ted Dawson, suspected terrorist.

Dawson was showing highly suspect actions and twitching, obviously high on something . He told Kimberly to make him a proper breakfast and held her at gunpoint as she quietly complied and made eggs. Dawson then asked to use her bathroom. Kimberly showed him to the bathroom upstairs and quietly nicked his gun, saying that the toilet upstairs was roomier than the one downstairs. It was the only bathroom with a lock on the outside of the door. Kimberly quickly stopped the door and ran to fetch her baby out of his crib. In a few seconds of deft thinking, she gathered a few of the family’s valuables and then raced downstairs.

Being high, Dawson took much longer in the bathroom than average and had trouble opening the lock, which Mary had made sure to tightly chain. Kimberly went outside and put her baby safely on the porch of their close friend and neighbor’s porch before making it back into the house. Kimberly went upstairs and held her body against the door, ignoring Dawson’s enraged knocks. Kimberly had lighter fuel from the outdoor torches she used in the summer which she had gotten and poured it over the door. She then set the door on fire with a couple of matches and then ran downstairs as the room quickly caught on fire. Safely outside, she retrieved her baby and called 911.

Dawson was unable to escape the fire and perished.

Most are unsure about what to think about this case. Though it was the death of an illegal terrorist and horrible man, it was still in many ways murder, and so the court is having trouble defining this case. Kimberly has repeatedly stated that she did what was right for both her child and the state. So far, no charges have been made.

In all honesty, I don’t know what to think of this case. The woman was just trying to protect herself and was incredibly cunning in the way she did it, but she still killed a man, albeit a terrible one. I have the feeling that Kimberly will get out of facing any major charges, but it’s still quite the spectacle.


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[GREGORY LESTRADE]

The Blog of Gregory S. Lestrade

Bookshop Theft
15 December, 2011

Since the case with Mary Kimberly, it’s been pretty dull around here. Just a few minor crimes and some slightly interesting but overall disappointingly-easy-to-solve murders. Perhaps I shouldn’t say that like it’s a bad thing – it completely isn’t – it’s just dull for me.

I met a very interesting girl when I was walking home from work today though. I had gone into a café because it had started raining when I was walking home, and she was working there. The girl’s name was Fiona Price. She was very kind and served me some delicious tea. What was interesting about her, though, is that she seemed to have a keen interest in two unusual things. First, was that she seemed to actually want to know what my story was, I’m not sure why. Second, was that she seemed half intent on spilling bits and pieces of her entire past to me. Not that it was annoying, but it was peculiar.

Anyway, while I was drying off and enjoying the tea – it really was very good – I got a call that some stupid kids had broken into this little obscure book store called The Corner, which was owned by a Miss Kelly. They’d just taken a few random books and the money from the cash register – not much, only around a hundred – but Miss Price overheard and was worried about the owner, whom she said she knew very personally. I let her come with me to the scene under a few strict rules, and she accepted.

Once we were there, I took care of business. It wasn’t very interesting, the case, just petty theft, but Miss Kelly was rather admirable. The boys hadn’t done much except rob her, though one did flash a knife, but she was stiff and strong, not a quiver to be found. Both Miss Price and I were very impressed.

Afterwards, Miss Price and I talked for a little while. I won’t say much on her, since that might seem a bit creepy, but she is commendable, being so bold. I’d like to see her again sometime.


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