[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

……

Sherlock stared at her slightly flushed face (because of anger), and her stubborn look of never giving up (fog).

This time, he didn't avert his gaze.

His gaze fell on Ludwig's face, and he couldn't help but glue it together.

For a second, as if attracted by the light blooming there, unable to leave.

And the next second.

Slowly, slowly, as if awakened with a start, he blinked.

Another second.

With lightning speed, he forked a piece of steak, and with lightning speed, he stuffed it into his mouth.

Ludwig put away his smile:

"Just kidding, don't mind, because I don't really want to continue discussing with you how many problems with my personality-let's talk about the case."

Whenever she wanted to change the subject, talking about the case was the most effective way:

"Following what we said before we quarreled...how did you find out that Anna Takemura who came to London is actually Xiangzi Sakuma herself?"

She uninterestedly stirs the soup, mixing in the ingredients until the clear salmon broth turns into a viscous sauce:

"You said I only answered a quarter, and you answered a quarter—and what about the other half? What was it?"

Sherlock: "Arguing? When did we quarrel?"

Ludwig: "...Yes, you did not quarrel with me. I was the only one who yelled all the time-I don't want to discuss this issue with you. Please continue to talk about the case."

Sherlock's jaw tightened and he paused before speaking:

"Aren't you not interested?"

Ludwig couldn't help but slander in his heart.

... How vindictive you are, Mr. Holmes.

In fact, what you want to say is incredible, right?This arrogant tone has already exposed you.

But in order to change the subject, she still cooperates with Sherlock's psychology of older children:

"Suddenly I'm interested again, you are so smart, satisfy my curiosity, OK?"

Sherlock, who was successfully groomed, translated the expression on his face into words, roughly saying "Since you asked the question sincerely, I will tell you mercifully".

... so flat.

"If Sakuma Saiko died in Birmingham, the murderer wouldn't need to do so many risky things."

Ludwig: "You mean, he transported the piano to the real crime scene in London, put the body in the piano, and sent the whole process to the Covent Garden Theater?"

"That's right, the more links there are, the easier it is to miss clues—he just needs to hide the corpse directly to deceive people."

Sherlock smiled slightly:

"After all, being missing is much safer than directly exposing the body."

Ludwig frowned: "But what if he wanted to make people think that Sakuma Saiko died in Birmingham to create an alibi?"

"It's wonderful, but it's a pity that it can't stand."

Sherlock straightened the last steak that had been precisely cut into the same portion, and now there was a long row of steaks in front of Ludwig.

He wiped his hands with a napkin, stopped switching channels with his left and right hands, and began to eat gracefully in the normal way:

"To make it look like a dead body was in the piano when it was being transported from Birmingham to London, other heavy objects would have to be placed in the piano."

Sherlock didn't pause.

Ludwig even had a feeling that these details had been automatically entered into his brain when he first arrived at the crime scene.

But now, he was just telling her.

He continued:

"And when the road is bumpy, heavy objects hit the piano, and the strings inside the piano vibrate to make a sound. In addition to being easy to find, it will also greatly damage the timbre of the piano."

"It doesn't make sense."

Ludwig bit his lip:

"After the piano is delivered to the body, it is considered scrapped. Why does the murderer care whether the heavy objects will damage the piano?"

"This involves criminal behavior analysis - do you remember the scene photos of the bodies?"

Ludwig carefully recalled the scene photos of the corpse in the record book, and said uncertainly:

"Sakuma Xiangzi clasped her hands in front of her chest? Is this—a prayer?"

"In addition to praying, this posture also has the meaning of asking for forgiveness in religion-remember Leibo's description? The flowers placed on the corpse are Casablanca, and the words of this lily are death."

Sherlock smiled, childishly, as if he'd just managed to get candy for Halloween:

"I'm sure that this piano has a special meaning to the murderer, and it may be closely related to the murderer's motive for killing. Putting the corpse into the piano is a metaphor—he will not allow the piano's timbre to be damaged by other things."

Ludwig: "Maybe he was negligent? After all, it's possible that the first murder was not thoughtful enough, and the technique was not skilled enough, isn't it?"

"Oh, Vichy, think about it with your head."

Sherlock sighed:

"Casablanca is not a common lily variety - Killer Company is obviously a perfectionist, an artist, the whole crime process is methodical and perfect - the possibility of making such an obvious mistake is too low."

The knot on Ludwig's brow was nearly beaten to death.

From Sherlock's narration, she drew an unbelievable conclusion——

"So, you mean..."

She blinked:

"Is the murderer not alone?"

Sherlock's eyes were bright, like lighting a bonfire.

Obviously, this well-planned case excited his brain cells that had been hungry for too long.

"That's right, this case is full of two completely different styles of tactics. The real perpetrator doesn't care about being discovered, or even about death. The one who cares about these is another one."

Ludwig tapped his index finger on the table, meditating:

"The other is an assistant, a person who will make the illusion of moving a corpse at the cost of destroying the piano? ——However, how can a perfectionist murderer tolerate such a teammate?"

She seemed to have figured something out, stood up, and excitedly slapped the table:

"They must have not colluded before! Everything the assistant did was spontaneous—to divert attention and cover up the murderer—not everyone can do such a risky thing, which shows that they have a strong relationship!"

Ludwig turned his head to look at Sherlock, propped his hands on the table, bent down, his eyes sparkled:

"So, the next step we're going to do is to screen out people who don't have an alibi and investigate their relationship, right?"

Sherlock stared at her suddenly enlarged, close-in face, startled for a moment.

Only then did the corners of his mouth slowly bend.

A stunning smile, like a white stone that gradually emerges from the shallow bottom of a stream when the river is dry.

On his face, little by little, little by little.

He sighed softly like an aria:

"I knew it...you enjoy this kind of life, yearning for this exciting, not smooth road...I knew it."

I knew it……

you are the same with me.

……

Ludwig frowned: "Here again, don't interrupt, just keep talking."

Sherlock smiled again:

"That's right, but we still need to investigate the source of this piano—I've already checked. This piano belonged to a German named Schmidt. He committed suicide by jumping into the sea half a month ago. The piano was sold at the auction." Someone bought it anonymously."

He paused, then spoke:

"Actually, I roughly already know who the murderer is."

"..."

Ludwig was taken aback.

"Who?"

Sherlock: "Who do you think is the artist in the troupe?"

Ludwig was silent for a moment, silently going through all the characters.

Leibo who speaks like a poem, Tsubaki Watanabe who is obsessed with Japanese mythology and same-sex relationships, Jiro Uehara who wears a Japanese yukata and smokes Marlboro in London, and... the singer Anna Takemura who is always teary-eyed.

She covered her face silently:

"I think...they're all artists—at least performance artists."

Sherlock gave up and fell on the chair:

"Forget it, when your IQ gets better, it's better to wait for the violin at the Wellway Restaurant to stay out of tune..."

The general manager who has lost his sense of existence for a long time: "..."

Sherlock said slowly: "The person who is most likely to be the murderer, so far, seems to be Jiro Uehara."

Nani!

This unscientific!

Ludwig's reasoning mode hadn't persisted for a minute, and he entered a state of confusion and complete shock.

But she didn't want to show her intelligence just like that, so she raised her chin and winked at Sherlock:

"reason?"

"Casablanca is a Spanish variety. In addition to death, the flower language also has eternal love and silent waiting."

Ludwig vehemently retorted:

"This doesn't explain the problem! Lei Bo also claimed to love Sakuma Xiangzi forever! Watanabe Tsubaki can also be called silently waiting! - You also said that at least four people had an ambiguous relationship with the deceased - why? Mr. Jiro Uehara?!"

Sherlock stared at her face, pursed his lips, and said slowly:

"Why are you so excited? And...you didn't add 'Mr.' before Leibo and Watanabe Tsubaki. Why did you call Uehara Jiro 'Mr.'?"

Ludwig almost blurted out: Because Mr. Jiro Uehara looks like Takashi Natsume!Because Mr. Jiro Uehara smokes like Tony Leung!

My gentle Natsume's Book of Friends is absolutely impossible to be a perverted murderer!

She calmed down: "I just think that Mr. Jiro Uehara cannot be identified as the murderer based on this."

"Then I can tell you that he himself has made very little secret of his being a murderer."

Sherlock still stared at Ludwig closely:

"During the interrogation, he mentioned that the time he met Xiangzi Sakuma was in May [-]—and Casablanca, in Spain, happened to be the 'May Flower'."

Ludwig frowned: "But he is Japanese... Flower language or something, maybe it's just a coincidence-you have too much imagination."

Sherlock looked out the window nonchalantly.

London at night is like a bright castle.

"Let's wait and see."

He glanced at her with a calm tone:

"In addition, I want to remind you a little bit. You are now, my personal assistant. Please analyze the case objectively and bring personal emotions into it. It is stupid."

Ludwig shrugged indifferently—so what?

Sherlock: "Since you have not refuted my last sentence - then I will assume that you have voluntarily agreed to be my assistant."

"Pay attention to the wording, sir. Consent is forced."

"There is essentially no difference between forced and voluntary."

Sherlock raised his fork: "People's initial values ​​are imposed when they don't have the ability to discern, then the values ​​and decisions based on these values ​​cannot be said to be voluntary..."

"... Mr. Holmes."

Ludwig interrupted him slowly:

"The plate of sirloin steak in front of you was taken from me—and I spit into it when you weren't paying attention."

Sherlock: "..."

The expression on his face was wonderful.

Ludwig admired Sherlock's rare and changeable expression.

After three full seconds, she let out a long breath, and then smiled with her head propped up:

"...It's unbelievable that you actually believed it. I can see the day when Sherlock Holmes' IQ was fed to the dog, and I finally feel that being your assistant is also beneficial."

"..."