[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

The lucky one asked: Why does the tree that bears golden apples no longer grow leaves?

The devil said: Oh, that is because there is a mouse living under the root of the apple tree.

--"Grimm's Fairy Tales"

"There is a Music Research Institute on the ground floor south of the Center Pompidou."

Ludwig touched his chin:

"The mouse is under the root of the apple tree. Does that mean we have to go underground to find it?"

Sherlock took out a slender brooch from the pocket of his kaleidoscopic coat:

"With all due respect, we are now standing at the gate of the underground research institute south of the art center. It's meaningless to be an afterthought."

Ludwig: "..."

In his hand, the pin seemed to have lost its rigidity and was easily bent into the desired shape by him.

Ludwig praised:

"Sir, you are a real thief."

Sherlock: "..."

He had just inserted the pin into the keyhole, and suddenly pulled it out again, messing up the bent shape again.

Ludwig: "What's wrong?"

Sherlock put the needle in her hand and said deadpan:

"You just learned the traditional lock opening method with three beads a few days ago, now let's challenge the four holes."

Ludwig held the needle: "...I am a serious prospective college student, sir, and I will never do such dishonest things."

"A serious would-be college student wouldn't exchange a diagram of the internal structure of an electronic lock with me about washing shirts."

Sherlock looked at her.

In the dark, he smiled slightly:

"I don't need to remind you, I'm a serious doctoral student at Cambridge University, but I'm still letting you out in this dark and damp underground building."

Ludwig: "..."

This must be the golden finger given to him by the plot master, obviously in the original book he is just an undergraduate student at Cambridge or Oxford.

The difference in height doesn't matter, the difference in education is simply unbearable!

Resignedly, she inserted the long needle into the keyhole—the doctoral students are all gone, so the high school students don't have to struggle.

Sherlock raised his hand and looked at his watch: "I'll give you 30 seconds, count down now."

Ludwig: "..."

In the future, if something is lost on Baker Street, the first thing to track down must be 221b. Sherlock has definitely been a professional lockpicker for 20 years.

She licked her dry lips, and with the help of the light from Sherlock's phone, she held her breath to deal with the small hole.

"It's counting down, Vichy, this determines whether our travel plan for June this year will be made by you or by me."

Sherlock said calmly:

"three two……"

"Two past five."

- Click.

Ludwig pulled out the pin and straightened up:

"That's what you said. I will make the travel plan for June this year."

She was able to pin the brooch on Sherlock's skirt triumphantly, and suddenly realized something:

"No, sir, no... When will I promise you to travel in June this year?"

no respond.

The door opened, and Sherlock had strode into the thick darkness ahead.

"Most of the research institutes here are about music...I didn't know your father was also proficient in music."

"I don't know either, but I guess Ms. Isabel-Caroline might."

Isabel Caroline.

The real Ludwig's mother.

"While I was cleaning the house, I found several of them...I mean my parents' tickets to the French Philharmonic, and a pre-booked ticket to Vienna that Ms. Caroline hadn't had time to use. , I usually listen to classical music when I go to Vienna.”

Ludwig stepped forward and stuffed Sherlock's wallet back into his coat pocket:

"Give it back to you."

Sherlock glanced at her:

"Don't you keep it?"

"I'm not very used to taking money from my pocket every time when I'm with a man, even if the wallet is yours, but the direction of the money is wrong."

Ludwig shrugged in the dark:

"It always makes me feel like my charisma has dropped."

Sherlock: "..."

He didn't make any further comments on this, but said lightly:

"So your parents also knew something about classical music? That would explain why you know how to play the piano."

"My dear sir, I said, don't brainwash me."

Sherlock's logic is too meticulous, no matter what it is, it is usually difficult for her to maintain her position in front of Sherlock's remarks.

Ludwig's eyes scanned the rows of signboards—there is also a coffee shop underground.

But Sherlock didn't stop because of her refusal:

"If the talent is high enough, it is not impossible to learn the piano at an intermediate level before the age of seven..."

Ludwig couldn't bear it anymore and reached into Sherlock's coat pocket again, and took out the little black ecstasy wallet:

"You have nothing to do with your wallet, sir, I'll make a sacrifice and keep it for you for a while."

"..."

Sherlock raised the corners of his lips slightly, looked at the black figure who had already walked in front of him, and whispered:

"Exactly...that's exactly what I wanted."

Although it's only temporary, but in this temporary period, he doesn't have to take care of the credit card himself, does he?

Passing through these research institutes, in front of it is an underground place for tourists to entertain and sell souvenirs.

Turning a corner, in a rotunda, Ludwig tugged on Sherlock's sleeve in disbelief:

"Old...mouse."

Sherlock looked around the hall with a low voice:

"Where's the mouse?"

Ludwig pointed to the sign ahead——

mortimer's box

"That's the mouse."

On the huge black and white signboard, the mouse appeared majestically in front of them.

Mortimer.

There are many people named Mortimer in the world, with different faces, different ages, and even different genders.

But one of them, Mortimer, was a household name.

— Mickey Mouse, have you heard of it?Of course you have.

Most people are familiar with Disney's Mickey Mouse Mickey, but few people know that Mickey's earliest name was Mortimer.

……

This kind of souvenir shop is not the Bank of Zurich, and there is no strict anti-theft system. Sherlock and Ludwig easily opened the old copper lock.

Sherlock walked into the dark room and flicked on the lights in the shop.

Ludwig frowned: "Won't any patrolling security notice the lights?"

"There are no windows here, and it's underground, and there's no light to peep through the walls."

Sherlock walked to the center of the hall without hesitation:

"Museums need strict defense. This is just a research center. They only work one shift a night, just three hours ago."

Ludwig: "...So you stepped on it better, right?"

"There is no need to step on the spot. The duty mode of most museums or art centers is the same, and France almost all follows the security measures of the Louvre."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, looking at the hundreds of - boxes before them.

Starting from the left end, the boxes are arranged in alphabetical order, along the circular hall, and then from the floor to the ceiling.

—Mortimer's box, well-deserved of its name, is of course a box.

Ludwig walked up to the box:

“These boxes are rented for music lovers to store letters, send to their favorite musicians or keep memorable items like an ex-boyfriend’s ring. Boxes are charged for the number of years they are rented, and there are also permanent ones.”

Sherlock frowned:

"Why would such a place be named after a mouse?"

"Mortimer is not just the name of Mickey Mouse - the owner himself is also named Mortimer."

Ludwig looked at the self-portrait of the fat boss on the counter, with a slightly sentimental tone:

"Mortimer's coffee is superb. He can microwave instant coffee to taste like cocoa beans. I know him very well ... I feel sorry for him for prying his shop."

She walked to the counter, squatted down, opened a cabinet familiarly, and took out two bags of coffee beans from it:

"I wouldn't have done it if he hadn't been refusing to tell me where he got his coffee beans... Mortimer forced me to."

Sighing, she swiftly emptied the coffee beans collected by Boss Mortimer, packed a bag, and threw it to Sherlock:

"Take it, remember to take it with you when you leave."

Sherlock: "..."

A doctoral student at Cambridge has finally become a thief.

This is really a sad story.

……

"Here you can be real-named or anonymous, but most of them are anonymous, and my father must be anonymous."

Looking at the huge number of boxes in front of him, Ludwig felt a headache:

"Shouldn't we be looking for them one by one? Mortimer, are we looking for boxes beginning with m and d?"

"No, your father wouldn't come up with such a straightforward puzzle."

Sherlock's eyes flicked across the lines of names:

"You can tell by the style of his previous questions. He won't give you a maze that you can get out of once. There must be a bend in the middle-you said your mother went to Vienna to attend a concert?"

"Ah."

"When's the concert?"

Ludwig smiled:

"How can I remember what happened so many years ago?"

"No, you must remember clearly."

Sherlock turned around and tightly covered her eyes with one hand, and Ludwig immediately sank into darkness.

"Where did you see the ticket?"

"what?"

Ludwig blinked, his eyelashes scratching his palm like butterfly wings:

"In the short drawer."

"What color is the ticket?"

"……blue."

"How many flights are there?"

Ludwig thought about it carefully for a while... She opened the low table and saw the ticket on the low table...

"Triple."

"Triple."

Sherlock's deep cello-like voice permeated the ground five or six meters deep:

"Think again, what did you write in the first couplet?"

"Paris to Vienna."

"anything else?"

--and also?

Ludwig slowly took Sherlock's hand off.

The shape of the ticket, the letters, and even the creases of the folded corners all came to her mind clearly.

She affirms:

"On May [-], [-], at [-]:[-] noon, I flew from Paris to Vienna."

Sherlock immediately picked up his mobile phone and quickly searched for the concert held in Vienna in May [-].

"After May NO.16, there are a total of seven concerts in Vienna. The one near NO.16 is Beethoven performed by the Royal Symphony Orchestra..."

Ludwig raised his head: "Beethoven?"

If Professor van-Ludwig really used Ludwig-van-Beethoven as a clue to crack the code...

Probably not just because his wife Lady Caroline loved Beethoven.

Tuoma, her guess about the three generations of her father's family who are deeply in love with Beethoven's time-traveling ban on young love, is finally going to come true, how can it be broken!

……

"You look up Beethoven's b, and from there, I'm in charge of l and v."

Sherlock quickly assigned the task:

"Split up."

……

5 minutes later.

"I found five Blakes, twelve Bryants, seven who thought they were Beethoven Seconds, and one who called himself Beethoven."

Ludwig moved closer to Sherlock:

"So what am I supposed to do, sir? . . . Oh, you've got a lot of people calling themselves Rachmaninoff here, and they'll do anything for l."

"None of those."

Sherlock stared at the name on a grid:

"As I said, your father doesn't like straightforward riddles, he likes to go around mazes... From this perspective, I'm more inclined to this box."

Ludwig looked over his shoulder, and paused at the box where his eyes rested.

"This is……"

She said in disbelief:

"Leonora?"