“You’ve stuffed an entire body into the fridge this time,” John accused. “What happened to the milk? The leftover risotto? My bloody jam?”

Sherlock opened his eyes at that. “As a doctor, it should be readily apparent to you that there is only a partial body in our refrigerator. Popular horror stories notwithstanding, it’s rare for an entire corpse to fit into one this size. I had to cut it up into several parts to pack it in, and there is still only seven eighths of it there.”

John stared at the ceiling. “That’s... not better.”