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The hallway was dark compared to the bright sunshine outside. Sherlock stood for a moment letting his eyes adjust to the change in light.
“Come back! I can’t reach you.”
The door to 221C was ajar and Petra’s voice was drifting up.
“I’m trying to help you! Come here, darling.”
Who was she trying to help?
With furrowed brows, Sherlock made his way down to the basement flat. Inside it, Petra was standing in front of the unlit fireplace, a clear plastic cup and manila file folder in her hands. She was staring at a round, black speck partway up the wall looking quite exasperated.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
Petra startled and whirled around. She quickly recovered upon seeing him. “Yes. I’m trying to rescue a bumblebee.”
Sherlock took a closer look. The speck was, indeed, a bumblebee. “So you are. Can I be of assistance?”
“Please?”
Sherlock knew he wouldn’t need the plate and cup. Slowly, he reached up, and caught the bee in gently folded hands. It tickled his palms as it moved.
“To the park?”
“Yes. I know just the spot.”
Sherlock motioned for Petra to lead the way.
“Should we name it?” he asked.
When Petra laughed and turned around with a bright grin, he paused and braced himself. He knew what was coming.
“Beevice.”