[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

Ludwig stared at the lamb chops in front of him, feeling pain in his ribs.

The table next door was eating chicken breasts, she took a glance and looked away... Chest hurts.

And Sherlock just watched her quietly, as if waiting for her to speak.

a long time--

"I do not believe."

She picked up the coffee and drank it in one gulp:

"Even if Shakespeare is related to the extremists in Egypt, I don't believe that Erich is one of them... No one created false memories for me, and Erich's approach is not a conspiracy. He has no problem."

She thought about it, and added:

"Even if there is a problem, it is a serious physical problem... I will explain it to you bit by bit when we have a lot of time."

"..."

Sherlock stared at her for a long while:

"reason?"

"I said I can't explain it now..." Duan Anhe couldn't wait for her to come out of the mental hospital.

"No, it's because you have no reason to believe in Erich."

"No reason, I believe Erich... completely, without reservation."

……

Besides An He himself, who could write that handwriting?Besides An He, who knew that she had stolen his "The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes" when she was a child?

Anhe can't be a false memory...unless all her memories of China are false.

Who Erich was, she didn't know, nor had she seen it.

All she knew was her little neighbor Duan Anhe.

……

Sherlock paused for a while, then said slowly:

"The magic of an old flame?"

"I said he wasn't my old lover... You handled the Shakespeare case?"

"Only Lestrade... I don't need to take action on such a case with no points."

Ludwig was silent for a while:

"You withdraw the foie gras that will be served later... I can't eat this kind of thing now."

Sherlock was expressionless:

"I think foie gras is good."

"Change."

"It's silly to change the menu in the middle."

"Change."

"..."

So the foie gras was replaced with beans and tomatoes.

……

Ludwig has no preference for tomatoes, and to be honest, she's not in the mood to eat at all right now.

She took out her phone.

Before she inquired about the French real estate transfer procedures... the time to sign the contract was still too long, and she could only sell a few other things.

When she was walking on the road just now, she had already posted information on Ancient Goods.com, and while she was talking to Sherlock, a buyer had already contacted her.

... She seldom has such a mood against every second.

It's just that when she was racing against time, the mobile phone in her hand was suddenly taken away by a slender hand.

The blue screen light, and lines of characters, were printed in Sherlock's gray eyes.

"I thought... I had already analyzed it clearly with you."

He looked at the query results on the screen, and there was no emotion in his tone.

"Your first love doesn't exist, it's a lie, Erich is inseparable from this lie...you're still selling the house?"

Ludwig: "Because I also said that I don't believe your conclusion, and I plan to try harder to borrow money from you...and after borrowing money, I have to pay back the money."

Sherlock was still flipping through the formalities guides she had looked up.

He scrolled down one by one, reading one by one... very patiently.

"From your search records, you originally planned to sell the apartment at a low price?"

"Ah."

Sherlock looked calm... He even raised the corners of his mouth and smiled.

……

This feeling reappeared.

It's hard to say that there's something wrong, it's just a layer of vague... feeling out of control that diffuses from the bottom of my heart.

She felt the same way when she asked Sherlock to borrow money before Sherlock told about Shakespeare.

……

"You said you knew each other since childhood, and he lived next door to you, but you couldn't find any trace of him in your biographical records... When the Egyptian religious terrorists appeared, he also appeared, suggesting to you that the cause of his future death is in Egypt ... At this time, he himself was confirmed to be related to the extremists of Egypt."

Sherlock said calmly, still flipping through her phone:

"And under such a coincidence...you still choose to believe him, but not my conclusion?"

……

The coffee was cold, but none of them cared.

"That's because your conclusion is also unreasonable."

Ludwig stared at her mobile phone, wanting to get it back - more than 30 search records, Sherlock actually looked at it for so long, she was terrified.

"I know what you mean, you think someone made up a memory for me when I was a kid, making me think I had a neighbor I had a crush on...and then after more than ten years, they made Erich appear to act as this image."

She put her hands on the cold table:

"But don't forget, those religious people are targeting you, not me. Before I came to Baker Street, I had nothing to do with you... Who of them is so prophetic, knowing that my father will die, knowing that I will come to Baker Street , laid out the chessboard more than ten years ago?"

"It's not a prophet."

Sherlock said lightly:

"Do you remember your parents' field of study?"

……

Her... parents?

Ludwig was stunned, caught off guard for a while.

Her mother has been missing, and her father in this life has never shown up since she came here, and has been staying in Egypt to do research.

In the end, he also died in Egypt.

Yes, her parents, are said to be outstanding experts in Egyptian archeology.

Egypt... Egypt again.

……

"Looks like you've figured it out."

Sherlock was still looking at Ludwig's mobile phone, and he flipped through the short search records of more than 30... Then he flipped back to the first page and started again.

"Judging by how you reacted to that café owner, they reinforced your memory before you set foot on Baker Street...you remember what happened to you on the flight from Romania to London Heathrow people?"

"How do I remember things from so long ago?"

Ludwig clenched his hand and smiled:

"Now religious criminals are starting to take the route of psychological suspense? Are they all graduated from Cambridge University?"

……How to do?

She has no way to convince Sherlock that her past exists, because he has already used psychology to deny the existence of Erich before she opened her mouth to explain the space-time theory of physics to him.

His evidence is so strong, his logic so strong...he is Sherlock Holmes.

When he opened his mouth...does she still have room to argue?

……

"Not Cambridge, but I know several of them graduated from Yale."

He didn't look at Ludwig all the time, but kept staring at the phone screen.

His eyes became more and more... cold.

"It seems that you are not only looking for houses...the ruby ​​necklace your mother left you, the antiques your father left you..."

Lines of search results fell into his eyes, and he flipped through them over and over again.

However, there are only 37 entries, but they are so... dazzling.

"And those precious books... You are looking for their market prices, and you want to sell them all? I see that you have already contacted the buyer and made an appointment to call at eight o'clock tonight."

"Because selling the house is too slow, and I have to leave tomorrow morning at the latest."

Ludwig raised his head, his eyes were clear and firm:

"And I said, I believe him."

"..."

Sherlock is still swiping the phone screen, but the movement is getting slower and slower...

Then, stopped.

"I didn't want to tell you so early..."

His face was calm, even with a slight smile:

"But now it seems that you have sunk deeper and deeper into the quagmire of nothingness...so I have to tell you, lest you can't distinguish between the past and the present, love and infatuation, the living and the dead."

Ludwig clenched his hands again.

... That feeling of being out of control came again.

Sherlock said softly:

"The human brain can't tell the difference between dreams and reality. You can distinguish your own dreams because there are irrational things in the dreams. If the logic of the person who fabricates the memory is strong enough, it's easy to put someone in your past... …Similarly, it is not difficult to wipe out your original memories and remake a childhood."

Ludwig stared at the wood grain on the table, his fingers were cold.

...She had vaguely guessed what Sherlock would say.

……

Sherlock looked at her long black hair and said softly:

"Vichy, who are you?"

He sat there casually, with his fingertips touching... This was his usual posture when he actually started the interrogation.

"Or to put it in a more understandable way... Who do you think you are?"

……

Before he really asked, she was afraid.

But after hearing that he really asked, Ludwig raised his head and smiled:

"Are you asking who am I? So you're in a relationship with an unidentified woman? Sir, I never knew you were so edgy..."

"I'm afraid in the eyes of this woman, it is indeed the case."

Sherlock picked up the cold coffee and took a sip gracefully.

...he never drinks cold coffee.

"Why don't we get to know each other...your first name? Last name?"

Ludwig paused:

"Actually, my name is Harry Potter, sir. If you don't mind, I want to settle the money issue first..."

In this world, except for her, An He, and Sherlock Holmes, everything else is no different from her original world.

Of course JK Rowling also exists, but this kind of magic novel writer should not appear in Sherlock's hard drive.

……

Sherlock watched her silently.

"lie."

The second time he saw her, Mrs. Hudson was there, and he called her by her short name, as an experiment.

Although it was only for a very short time, he still caught her momentary trance... In the name she thinks, there must be the pronunciation of "Vichy".

……

"Lie... so what?"

Ludwig laughed, she stood up:

"It's the same sentence, because I didn't commit any crimes, so I don't accept any form of interrogation and questioning. As for whether you think I'm lying... Sorry, Idon't

care. "

Sherlock said lightly:

"Forcing questions? If I want to press for questions, I don't need to waste my tongue like I am now. I just need to inject you with a little pentobarbital sodium, and you will quietly, obediently, and honestly... tell me yourself."

His white and slender fingers crossed, placed on the side of the white coffee spoon, nails, skin, and light blue veins... more delicate than the carved coffee spoon.

He smiled slightly:

"Sit down, Vichy... don't force me to use drugs."