Title: Sausages to the Left of Them, Corn Snacks to the Right
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (BBC)
Rating: G
Length: 703
Summary: Sherlock meets Inspector Stanley Hopkins of the River Police at a Met party, who is able to help with a case.

“Right, Sherlock, remember what I said.  Polite conversation, don’t insult anyone and we’ll leave in half an hour,” John Watson insisted.  “That’s enough time to show our faces and hopefully not long enough to be escorted off the premises.”

“Yes, yes, you’ve said it all before,” Sherlock replied.  “And I’m not to complain to Lestrade I’ve had to come in the middle of a beautiful experiment.  I was listening when you told me that as well.”

“Good, just remember it!”  John privately hoped Mrs Hudson would have time to remove Sherlock’s ‘beautiful experiment’ before it ate any more of the curtain.

As they walked into the room where the Met party was being held, John was hailed by a fellow rugby fan.  He therefore went over to argue about the current Six Nations tournament, once he’d given Sherlock a final reminder about his expected behaviour.

Sherlock looked round the room and dismissed most of the occupants as being inherently boring.  However there was one younger man he hadn’t met before.  At least it might give him a few minutes of interest before either Sherlock turned away in search of a sausage roll to investigate, or the other man walked off in preference to punching him.

The man, who had been looking out of the window, turned at the sound of Sherlock’s approaching footsteps.  “Hello, Mr Holmes,” he said, “we’ve not formally met.  I’m Inspector Stanley Hopkins of the River Police.”

“In which case,” Sherlock paused, discussing a case was probably not what John had meant by polite conversation, but it was too good an opportunity to miss.  And there was always the vague possibility he might receive a little useful information.  He launched into a description of his problem.

Hopkins listened carefully, nodding on occasion as Sherlock highlighted various facts.  Then he said, “The tides make a lot of difference.  And without more detailed places and timings it would be difficult to pinpoint the exact landing place.”

Sherlock had almost written off any help Hopkins might be able to give, when he realised the inspector was looking round for something to write on.  Clearly he was used to explaining such matters on a flipchart.  Sherlock indicated the space at the end of the table where the food was set out.

Hopkins smoothed the tablecloth and started pointing things out with his finger.  Not satisfied with the impermanence of that method, he picked up a plate of cocktail sausages and laid them end to end to indicate the north bank of the river.  Sherlock collected the other plate of sausages and passed it over.

“Now,” Hopkins continued, “the river bed on the other side is not entirely uniform.”  He picked up a bowl of mixed corn snacks and, carefully selecting each piece, outlined the south bank.

Sherlock watched and asked questions to which Hopkins gave careful thought, before selecting a slice of pizza and cutting it into smaller pieces to indicate the probable passage of the boats which would have been on the river at the time.

“So what you’re saying is there are two, no three, possible directions the bag could have taken, each of which with a distinct landing site,” Sherlock said.

“Exactly.”  Hopkins drew a tray of sandwiches closer to his makeshift map.  “Number one, the egg sandwich route.  Number two, cheese and tomato.”  Some of the tomato was slipping out and threatening to contaminate the river.  Hopkins pulled the rest of the tomato slices out and dropped them back onto the tray.  “Number two, cheese.  And number three, meat unspecified.  I have no idea why they even have this type of sandwich; no-one ever eats them.”

He stood back to admire his handiwork, Sherlock standing next to him.

Suddenly Sherlock said, “Brilliant!  Of course.  I know just where I need to look.  Are you coming?”

“Try and stop me!”

John and Greg watched in surprise as Sherlock and Hopkins hurtled out of the room.  They walked over to see what had been constructed on the table.

“Do you think they’ll object if we eat any of their masterpiece?” John asked, picking up an egg sandwich.

“Nah, we’ll just tell them a tidal wave came along,” Greg replied with a grin.