Chess and Goldfish

Anyone who is jealous is cruel

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"John, hand me my mobile phone." The curly-haired man lay on his back on the sofa, the purple shirt just covered his smooth muscles, his slender hands were tightly together, fingertips lightly pressed against his chin, gray Blue eyes stared straight at the ceiling.

"It's in your right trouser pocket! Sherlock!" John Watson came out of the bedroom angrily. Even so, he resignedly pulled out the phone and handed it to Sherlock, "For God's sake for the sake."

"A cup of coffee and two candies."

"..."

"Thank you." The man withdrew his exaggerated smile in an instant, flipping through the messages on his phone expressionlessly.

Watson shook his head, he would never be able to refuse Sherlock Holmes, this person could always let him see his latest bottom line.

He brought out coffee from the kitchen, put it in front of the long man, and rubbed the space between his brows tiredly, "Sherlock, can't you clear the contents of the cup?!" God, when he looked Heart stopped by the eyeball - well, he should get used to it.

The curly-haired man sat up lightly, picked up the coffee and took a sip. He glanced at the stains on the rim of the cup, his eyes rolled, "You should break up with Sophie."

"Sophie?"

"Your new girlfriend, or date 1, since you didn't tell me with much fanfare."

The blond man's eyes straightened, "It's Sophie! Dating date, oh no, where did you learn the words? When did I make a big fuss, no no no, Sherlock, stop, I don't want to hear it!"

Sherlock curly-haired genius consulting detective Sherlock Holmes was blocked back, he squinted his eyes, sank back into the sofa, and fiddled with his mobile phone, "She had sex with three men other than you, at the same time. "

Watson: "..." He said he didn't want to know.

But soon, he found out that something was wrong, "Are you following me?"

Sherlock glanced at his cohabitant with dissatisfaction, "This is research."

"Including you looking through my phone?" He remembered that the name he saved for Sophie was "sofei".

"She always had condoms in her purse, given the odd stamp on her cheap leather purse; she had a fight with you last night, and you've been thinking she's reluctant to make the relationship public. Because of your profession, but in fact it is because she is reluctant to part with her other three men who all know each other. She wants to turn you into the fourth, but it turns out that this is impossible; her earrings are new Bulgari, obviously not Probably something a woman wearing an old coat from the previous year could afford, which was given to her by her second man. Also, her goal is not money, but to become the 'Queen of the Courtesans'."

Sherlock used his deep and soothing voice and finished a lot of words quickly, elegantly like a cat waiting for praise, he lifted his chin indistinctly, waiting for the heartfelt admiration from his admirer and cohabitant.

but--

"God, you actually know Bulgari's new style?!" Watson indeed exclaimed, "I mean, Sherlock, I never knew you were so knowledgeable about luxury goods. It's really...unbelievable!"

The curly-haired man opened his eyes slightly, frowned, threw his phone aside, and stopped looking at Watson.

The latter shrugged and went downstairs to open the door—Mrs. Hudson was out today, and he had just seen Inspector Lestrade's police car through the window.

Sure enough, the man's hurried footsteps sounded, "Sherlock——"

Sherlock moved his nose, sat up immediately, his eyes skipped over the gray-haired inspector, and fell straight on Watson behind him, "John, we are going out!" Then he tilted his head, " good afternoon."

"I haven't said--" Lestrade hesitated for a moment, his big eyes showed some confusion and understanding.

Sherlock glanced at him impatiently, and quickly took out his standard black windbreaker and suit jacket from the room, as well as the blue scarf hanging on the hanger, "The oil painting smell on your body tells me everything, okay Now, tell me what it is this time? Ya thief? Stolen? ——Oh, the gypsum powder and cereal under your feet are not what the National Gallery should have. There is no news and information. , who died?"

Watson also put on his coat and came out of the room at the same time, "Greg, let's go?"

The Inspector sighed and made a not-so-funny joke, "Looks like Mrs Hudson isn't here, poor me I can't even have a cup of tea." He shrugged, "David Blair, graduate of the University of Arts London , is preparing to participate in the No.13 British Youth Oil Painting Competition."

Sherlock was gone.

Watson was the last to go downstairs and locked the door.

He knew Sherlock didn't like riding in police cars, and that black taxis were his favorite, which happened to be his Big Boss's preference.

#####

"I live alone, I haven't traveled far for a long time, and maybe I don't often go nearby. I love oil painting. Since he participated in the "Color Theme" oil painting competition, this one and this one," Sherlock pointed to the easel "Sunflower" and "Starry Night" on the ground, "are his latest research objects. There is a younger brother or younger sister who has a normal relationship and a girlfriend. The last time they met was in the bedroom."

They stood at the door, Lestrade nodded, got into the seal, and Donovan and Anderson walked towards him, "Hey, the freak is here! It's so strange, how can I see you everywhere? "

Sherlock glanced at them casually, and then got into the scene of the seal, "If it wasn't for your low IQ, Gavin wouldn't interrupt my afternoon tea. By the way, your deperspirants really don't change. One? This one is already bad, and it seriously affects my thinking."

Donovan's eyes widened, "I just bought this yesterday! Ladies' model! Are you stalking me? Freak, are you a stalker and a pervert now? Ha! I knew it..."

"What do you know? Do you know that Anderson is upset with your increasingly clumsy technique after you spent the night with him last night?"

"God—what are you talking about?!" Anderson yelled, his pupils shrank suddenly, and serious disgust and embarrassment appeared on his face.

Sherlock impatiently walked towards the innermost part of the room, "Shut up Anderson, turn left when you go out, your deperspirant has already spread your low IQ to every corner through molecules, don't make me say it a third time!"

Watson nodded embarrassingly at the two who were cursing and complaining, and hurriedly followed Sherlock's footsteps. He might never be able to get used to the small fights between Sherlock and his "old friends".

Inspector Lestrade stepped aside a bit, and there was a coffin, the lid of which was not closed tightly, and it could be seen from the gap that the body of David Blair should be inside.

Sherlock strode forward, and when he was still a few steps away from the coffin, the accident happened.

The corpse inside passed by in a flash, and disappeared under the eyes of everyone.

"Damn——" Lestrade was shocked, and he immediately stretched out his hand towards the coffin.

A black shadow suddenly flashed outside the window, very fast.

Watson yelled, and Sherlock immediately attracted his attention, and ran out of the room after chasing the black shadow. Detective Lestrade froze for a moment, and then ran out, "Anderson! Follow! Quick! Don't let him get away!"

Someone stole the body? ?

——This must not be a small case!

Anderson proudly raised his head. While the other police officers were evacuating, he returned to the room and was about to approach the coffin when there was a heavy impact inside.

He turned pale with fright, kicked the coffin violently and ran out of the house quickly.

This is the real bloody hell!

#####

"—There are always people who like this way, Moran." The little brown-black curly-haired man turned the door key in his hand, with his mobile phone tucked between his head and shoulder, he took out two banknotes from his leather jacket and handed them to him. Gave it to the taxi driver, and the light blue jeans had some odd marks on them. "I respect all habits and quirks."

He patted it lightly, and it was quickly cleaned.

"I'll see you later, baby. I start class tomorrow." He hung up the phone, his big deep eyes bent into crescents, and he opened the door with a smile and walked in. The copper house number was 222b.

The man stretched casually, took out a can of Coke from the refrigerator that had been prepared and had been waiting for him for a long time, pulled the ring with a "stab" sound, drank most of the can, and then put the Coke back on. He returned to the original place, then wiped his mouth and walked into the bedroom.

at the same time--

A black taxi parked on Baker Street, and two men got out of it. The taller one was wearing a black coat, and his curly black hair remained motionless in the wind. The lower one had a helpless expression on his face, "I'm sorry Sherlock, but I thought it was a prisoner—you didn't see that it was a sack, did you?"

"Shut up, John." Curly was in a bad mood, with impatience written all over his long face.Tiaohulishan played very well, and there was no trace of it before. When they caught up with that person, they realized that it was no longer the person who broke into Blair's room, just a student.

Moreover, he almost didn't get any useful clues - the other party seemed to understand his deductive method very well.

"It's too late today, Greg said that he will go there again early tomorrow morning."

The car they got off at the intersection, Sherlock's gray-blue eyes swept over, and settled on the door next door.

"What's the matter?" Watson asked curiously when he saw him stop.

"When did Mrs. Hudson leave?"

Watson raised his eyebrows. "She's been gone for three days—I thought you noticed."

"Actually, no. I have already automatically blocked what she said, so she has been silent in my eyes." Sherlock said quickly, his voice as elegant as ever.

"It seems that she is back."

"That's impossible!" Watson retorted. The time between their departure and their return was only three hours.

But when he returned to 221b, Mrs. Hudson had already greeted him, "John, you are back! Sherlock has encountered a wake-up case again, right?"

Before Watson could speak to her, Sherlock had already taken off his windbreaker, revealing his suit jacket, "Mrs. Hudson, you'd better prepare some black tea—by the way, a cup of coffee, two pieces of sugar—your new The tenant is coming to visit."

"New tenant?!" Watson was surprised, "So you asked that question just now?"

"Oh, Sherlock! I'm your landlord, not your housekeeper!" Mrs. Hudson said dissatisfiedly, "But Gent probably doesn't like black tea, he's an American!"

What responded to her was Sherlock's wind-like back.

——*——*—*——*——*——*——

——Little Fatty’s toy?

——Holmes was never afraid to declare war, they trembled because of excitement.