[Comprehensive British and American] Write Lei Wen in the name of Super Reverse

Baguoxia stood outside the restaurant, waiting for the elevator with a group of people.

The elevator door opened, and there was only a man in a windbreaker standing inside.

His windbreaker was covered with sticky dark brown liquid, the original color could no longer be seen,

The liquid kept dripping down the hem of the clothes onto the floor.

At the same time, he was still smoking a cigarette unscrupulously, so that the elevator was full of smoke.

All the people waiting for the elevator took a step back or protested loudly, only Baguoxia walked in.

No third person came in until the elevator doors closed.

"Where are you going?" The man glanced at him, smoking a cigarette, and asked slowly.

"I don't know," Baguoxia thought about it, and replied, "maybe go back to the room—do you need help?"

He looked into the other's blue eyes curiously.

"What? Have you taken a fancy to me?"

"No," Bei Guoxia blushed, shook her head, and clarified herself, "I like black hair and blue eyes... Ah, it's not that blonde hair and blue eyes are bad..."

"Stupid thing." The man muttered, holding the cigarette end and waving it around, as if he was fighting wits with the air.

"Sorry……"

"What are you apologizing for? I didn't mention you," the man looked at him inexplicably, and said rudely, "You should roll to the seventeenth floor, there is a club event there."

Talking to himself, he helped Baguoxia press the "Seventeen" button.

The elevator door opened again, and Baguoxia was pushed out.

In front of him was a red door with a sign "Tea Party After Dinner".

There is a register book on the table by the door.

He turned to look at the tightly closed elevator doors, shrugged, walked to the table, and wrote a name in the registration book.

Then, he opened the door and walked in.

There are a few sofas scattered around the room, and some people are sitting there.

There was one corner with the most people—three.

Therefore, Bei Guoxia walked towards them in line with the idea of ​​"joining the fun in crowded places".

Baguoxia: "May I sit here?"

The old lady who was knitting looked at him and said with a smile: "Of course, my dear, you can eat whatever you like on the table. Would you like some tea?"

Bei Guoxia sat on the single sofa beside her, looking at the other two.

Facing him was a tall man in a turtleneck with eyes piercing like a hawk.

The man sitting between the tall man and the old lady has a round head and a straight mustache on his upper lip.

Baguoxia sat for a while, and found that their way of chatting was a bit strange.

As long as the round head moved his eyes, the tall man immediately said, "I understand, but—"

Then he made some more movements, and his round head immediately showed a bored look: "Hmph, probably so."

Bei Guoxia asked in confusion, "Are they communicating?"

"Of course," said the old lady kindly, "they are very clever men.

"The tall man was Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and he said something deductive.

"And the other one, Mr. Hercule Poirot, of course he was against it, so they contested..."

Bei Guoxia turned her head and looked at her: "Then, who are you?"

"Alas," said the old lady, "I forgot to introduce myself, I am Jane Marple.

"You can call me 'Miss Marple,' I'm never married. What about you, lad?"

"They all call me 'Ben'," said Baguoxia.

"Ben," Miss Marple said softly, nodding, "you look a bit like a distant nephew of mine.

"He is a programmer. Sitting in front of the computer for a long time has given him a bad habit of shrinking his shoulders and arching his neck when he sits down."

Baguoxia immediately straightened her neck, relaxed her shoulders, and explained at the same time: "I'm not a programmer, I'm a writer."

His words attracted the attention of the other two people.

"So, you're here to collect material?" Polo asked, his eyes also round.

"I've never been good at writing detective novels," Baguoxia said. "I can't make a layout. I mean, I can set up a murderer, a criminal, and a detective, but I can't make up the reasoning process in between."

"I don't think 'made up' should be used in detective stories." Holmes interjected, "It should be to restore the truth."

"Use your deductive method?" Poirot immediately yelled at him, "Mr. Holmes, when a person fidgets and arouses your vigilance, how can you tell whether he has a guilty conscience or just has hemorrhoids?"

"By observation," returned Holmes, "I will observe the difference between 'terrified' and 'embarrassed.'"

"But everyone's emotional expression is always different..."

"Mr Poirot is a little nervous in this room, I think," whispered Miss Marple to Baguocha, "I understand him.

"Every detective has his own style and it might not be fun to hang out with your peers."

In order to ease their dispute, Baguoxia took a plate of snacks and brought them in front of the two detectives:

"Do you want to try these..."

Staring at the colorful three-layered round cakes on the plate, he suddenly got stuck.

He only remembered the French description of these round cakes, but he completely forgot the scientific name.

what's going on?

"Would you like to try these 'girly breasts'?"

——Do you really want to say that?

"Macarons." Miss Marple answered seamlessly.

Immediately, Bei Guoxia's gratitude to her was beyond words.

"Do I look like I have a sweet tooth?" Polo asked back.

Holmes and Baguosha nodded together, and Poirot immediately blew his beard and stared.

Once again, Miss Marple's emotional intelligence saves this awkward situation.

"Trying new products has nothing to do with whether you like them or not," she said euphemistically. "Macarons should be made into the colors of the starry sky, and different flavors should be used to reflect their meaning."

They all took a macaron.

Bei Guoxia put down the plate, picked up the exquisite porcelain cup and teapot, and poured himself a cup of tea.

"Why are you here?" He asked curiously.

With problems, the detectives began to complain, or pour out.

"This is the most ridiculous case I've ever had," said Poirot, "I don't want to complain, but you should all hear:

"A local tyrant who likes to reason bought an independent island and invited many friends to a party.

"In just a few days, homicides continued to occur on the island, and everyone didn't know where the murderer was, but they all liked to act alone.

"The police told me that the island was isolated and after layers of scientific investigation there was no evidence to charge anyone.

"When I got to New York, they told me..."

He cleared his throat, imitating what the police said: "'No need to come here, Mr. Poirot, the murderer has been brought to justice.

"'The murderer swam from land to the island at nightfall, killed someone, and then swam back to land to obtain an alibi.

"'Neither the host nor the guests noticed that the murderer was more among them at night.

"'That's because the murderer has a twin brother who was invited by the master.

"'Until the last victim was killed, the murderer could no longer sustain the high-intensity swimming every night these days, sank into the sea and drowned'."

With that, he turned away, as if sulking into the fireplace.

Miss Marple took care of the needlework in her hands, and continued calmly: "My distant niece has a younger brother who married a wife.

"I went to their wedding and the girl was so pretty.

"The young couple moved to New York together, but unfortunately the husband died of a serious illness not long after.

"His widow inherited all the property and settled in New York with her children..."

"Is there anything strange about her husband's death?" asked Holmes.

"Oh, what? No," said Miss Marple startled, "don't let something so dreadful happen, of course not."

"Their child grew up in New York and was admitted to Harvard University," continued Miss Marple, "and soon made a girlfriend. I must say, the child's vision is a little worse than his father's..."

They listened to Miss Marple babbling on about complex relationships.

Baguoxia admitted that he was a little dizzy.

But Miss Marple spoke very carefully, and she couldn't fault it if she listened carefully:

"...Then my niece's younger brother's widow's son's girlfriend's mother's cousin's cousin's son went to jail not long ago.

"He was accused of murdering his girlfriend.

"My distant niece writes to me, half complaining, half inviting me to New York for Christmas."

"You must already know the murderer?" Baguoxia asked.

"Oh, I'm afraid I've had the same experience as Mr Poirot," said Miss Marple sheepishly, "and I found out that the girl killer was a habitual voyeur.

"For three years, every night, he would crawl into the girl's room, hide under the girl's bed, and wait until dawn when the girl went to work before leaving.

"After the girl had a boyfriend, he was under the bed listening to her having sex with her boyfriend.

"Jealousy ate at his heart until one night he crawled out from under the bed and killed the girl.

"And hypnotized the boy, falsified the scene and the testimony.

"He was in and out of the girl's room for three years.

"The reason why it was not exposed by anyone is because he was wearing the same dress as the girl."

"..."

After hearing the two cases, they silently doubted life.

"Surely Mr. Holmes has more exciting stories?" asked Miss Marple.

"I have received a letter from my old friend James Bond," replied Holmes, "about the investigation and results of the Slumby family murder."

Although Baguoxia didn't know about the Slumby family.

But Miss Marple's exclamation, and Polo sitting upright all of a sudden, told him that this family must be very unusual.

"Speaking of which, the patriarch of the Slumby family, Harlan Slumby is still traveling with you, Ben."

Miss Marple did not forget to explain to him:

"Harlan was a famous novelist who was murdered the day after his 85th birthday, leaving behind a bunch of poor children."

"There are hundreds of millions of inheritance." Holmes added.

"This is a murder case that has caused a sensation in the United States." Poirot asked thoughtfully, "Mr. Bond has uncovered the truth, Mr. Holmes?"

Holmes replied: "Yes. Bond has lost his enthusiasm for his work and is going to take the opportunity to change careers. So he took the case.

"But judging from the handwriting on the letter paper, he must be very angry."

"What happened?" they wondered.

Holmes said: "The old lady of the Slumby family, who witnessed the murder of her son.

"She kept saying, 'This is a murderer's trick, this is a murderer's trick!'"

"Poor old man," sighed Miss Marple.

"Other than this one sentence, the old lady never said another word." Holmes took a sip of his tea.

Polo stroked his beard: "I heard that both the nanny and the grandson of the Slumby family are very suspicious?"

Holmes was noncommittal: "Well, but don't forget what the old lady said, it's very important, it's about the truth—

"Of course, it wasn't until Bond found out the truth that he found out that the old lady had told him about the murderer from the very beginning.

"Seeing the truth, I also understand why he would be so angry."

They became more and more curious and asked eagerly:

"what happened?"

"Who is the murderer?"

"Trick, pay attention to this."

Holmes explained to them, "The murderer is a ghost, and the old lady has said, 'This is the murderer's plan'."

"..."

"After finding out the truth, Bond returned to the Secret Service on the second day of solving the case and asked for reinstatement." Holmes said, "He told me that he finally recalled the good feeling of being an agent."