me and my vest

The light in the bathroom was bright yellow, and Watson stood in front of the mirror and drank a handful of water, trying to wake himself up.

In the days when he came to Gotham, he had tried his best to adapt himself here. Although the technology was indeed much more advanced than London in the nineteenth century, and life was more convenient, Watson still preferred the house on Baker Street.

He even thought a little bit about the wall where Sherlock shot out the word Victoria.

The clear and cold water spread out along the sink, drew an arc and then flowed downward. Watson turned off the tap and looked up.

He suddenly saw another person's shadow reflected in the mirror.

"boom."

After a muffled sound, Watson collapsed to the ground.

The clanging sound followed, and Jonathan Klein, who was wearing a waiter's clothes, threw away the iron pipe in his hand and took out a mobile phone, "Come here, some people, I'm on the second floor."

Less than 5 minutes later, scattered footsteps sounded, and several men in suits appeared at the bathroom door.

"Boss, how to deal with it?"

"You put on the waiter's clothes, pretend he is a drunk customer, and help him out." Klein said, "Take him back to Arkham first, and if someone comes from Falcone, take him out." give him."

"clear."

After waiting for a few people to go out, Klein waited for more than ten minutes to make sure that there was nothing abnormal outside, then took the staff elevator down, and then walked down the aisle of the back kitchen.

hall.

"Mr. Paltrow, what do you think of Falcone?" Rachel took the wine but didn't drink it. She took this party as a good opportunity to make friends with the police.

"For me, I care more about whether there will be interesting obstacles in the investigation process." The detective said, "But as a current Gotham citizen, putting him in prison as soon as possible is the most important thing."

"Do you have any evidence?" Rachel asked impatiently, "I can help with the prosecution, and I can figure out what to do next."

"Of course, the investigation on his drug trafficking has been carried out..." Shi Li suddenly stopped when he said this, and he took out a brass pocket watch from his pocket, "How long has John been gone?"

"About ten minutes?" Rachel replied in a daze. She didn't quite understand why the detective asked this question suddenly.

"Ten minutes? No, no, half an hour has passed."

The detective stood up immediately, and the chair made a harsh sound on the tiled floor, instantly attracting the attention of the surrounding guests.

"Gordon, adjust the monitoring! The monitoring near the bathroom on the second floor."

"Wait, why not the first floor?"

The detective had already run towards the stairs, and Gordon could only see his black back, "The bathroom on the first floor is being renovated today!"

"Sometimes I really don't understand how he knows so much." Gordon muttered to himself, grabbed the police badge and gun on the table, and rushed to the security room in a hurry.

"I'm going to see what's going on, too. Sorry, Rachel, go talk to someone else."

Bruce followed suit, and Rachel was the only one left on the table. Although she vaguely understood what had happened, she was not in a position to help.

When Shi Lu entered the bathroom on the second floor, he saw something lying on the ground at a glance. He took out the gloves from his pocket, put them on, and quickly picked up the iron pipe.

It's not from the hotel, it looks like it was picked up from a construction site.

A high-power magnifying glass can see that there are many messy footprints on the ground, covering each other.

But the size and shoe prints that belonged to his partner stayed by the sink and never went out the door.

He was dragged out, or carried out.

After Shi Li stood up, he quickly glanced at the sink, there were still drops of water in it.

It was taken captive.

After confirming this fact, Shi Li started to go to the security room. After he stepped into the door of the security room, Gordon happened to adjust the monitoring.

All the people here have been kicked out by him, only the computer with the faint blue light is left working.

The detective looked at the screen with an ugly expression - the man in the waiter's clothes followed Watson all the time.

"I've already looked at it, and a few people came later and took Dr. Hardwick away."

"Klein, Jonathan Klein." The detective pointed to the paused picture, "His height and hair color exposed in the hat are the same as Jonathan Klein."

"Did he do it?"

"Although there is no evidence, the suspicion is the greatest." The detective said calmly, "Recently, we have begun to threaten their core business."

"Is this a warning? Or a hostage for negotiations?" Gordon asked. "What are we going to do? Take the team to Arkham?"

"Jonathan Klein is not yet capable of doing these things. I think it is Falcone who is really pushed."

"I'll go over there."

A low and hoarse voice suddenly sounded, and Gordon turned his head to look. Batman had already stood there at some point.

Covered in a black cloak, the Guardian of Gotham is like a silent statue.

"Okay, Gordon and I will lead the team to Arkham, and you go to Falcone's side." The detective replied immediately, "I will contact you as soon as I find someone."

"learn."

After listening to Shili's arrangement, Gordon turned his head to look at the original place, and Batman had disappeared.

Turn your head away, inherent skills.

------------

"Damn it, Paltrow, wait, hit the brakes!" Gordon grabbed the handle on the roof, staring at the wall passing by with his eyes wide open.

The buildings on Naihe Island are too crowded and the buildings are so high that it is impossible to think about drag racing here.

"My technique is very good, you don't have to worry too much."

The detective hits the clutch and engages fourth gear.

"What are you doing? Be safe!" Gordon felt that his stomach was starting to feel uncomfortable. Fortunately, he didn't eat anything at the dinner today.

"It's fine if you catch it well. I have recorded all the forks and traffic lights on Naihe Island." The detective slammed the steering wheel, "We will be there soon."

Gordon was also very eager to foil Klein's conspiracy and save Watson, and he had always been a very, very responsible sheriff, so he suppressed his frightened expression.

Barely suppressed.

Accompanied by the sound of sharp brakes, the destination finally arrived. The Arkham logo outside the car window lit up pale in the night, complementing the cold concrete floor in front of it, like a classic scene in a horror movie.

What's more, this is indeed a lunatic asylum.

"I'll go in with you."

"No, you're going to get in my way."

"You wait outside for someone to come, and come to me when they are all here."

"Is the gun with you?" Gordon asked hastily.

"Of course." The detective stopped at the moment of closing the door, reopened the door and picked up the cane that was leaning next to Gordon, "It will be more useful."

There was no big noise in Akam. Shili was walking in the corridor with a cane, and he could only hear slight crying and whispering in the rooms on both sides, and occasionally nervous laughter.

The noisy patients here have all been "treated" by Jonathan Klein with hallucinogens. Even if they wanted to yell, their nerves would not allow it.

The fear from the deepest part of their hearts choked their throats to speak.

Since he had never been here before, the detective could only walk slowly, and Watson was probably locked in one of the rooms.

If he was really caught in Arkham, he must be found before being sent to Falcone. Maybe Klein would only use hallucinogens on him, and the gangsters would just use the knife directly.

There is a gap lined with iron railings in the middle of all the iron doors, which is used to observe the patient's condition, and it is also convenient for regular spraying of hallucinogens.

All kinds of people in hospital gowns were lying or standing, and some were holding onto the railing and smiling at Shilu.

Of course these were not Watson, and the detective walked over without squinting.

pat.

The sound of water dripping came from the depths of the corridor.

There seemed to be a terrible monster hidden in the darkness, staring at it with scarlet eyes.

"Haha, hehe, huhuha..."

There was an eerie, frightening laugh, louder than all the patients' whispers.

"Ah, let me see, which cutie came to this place?"

A man in a hospital gown looked at Shi Li in the front room, "Hahaha, hello, good evening, or is it daytime?"

"Sorry, I'm a little confused. You know, it's too dark here." The clown stroked his green hair, "The treatment they give is terrible, don't you think? It's still leaking when it rains .”

The detective watched him silently.

"Why are you ignoring me?" The clown suddenly grabbed the railing, with a hideous expression on his face, as if he was about to tear it down, but the next second he became a gentleman again, "I know you—my dear, detective, right?"

"Detective, what a dramatic profession." The clown laughed, "When I lived here, Gotham seemed to have a lot of interesting people, you, and that black bat, so interesting! I love you all!"

"Would you like to play with me?" asked the clown. "I like games, and it would be even better if I played with you!"

"...Do you know where the person who was arrested is?"

"Of course." The clown licked the corner of his mouth. Since there was no hair gel he liked in the ward, his hair could only hang loosely in front of his eyes, "Basement, Doctor Klein, um, doctor, actually I also wanted to be a doctor when I was young ..."

"Oh, my God, I'm off topic, I hope you won't be impatient."

"Usually in the basement."

"Thank you."

"Mr. Detective! Is there any reward for me?" The clown's eyes were shining, but that was just his desire to ruin the detective's performance. "It's a reward for a good boy! I helped you, right?"

The detective looked at the iron door, and the clown had almost opened it by some method.

"How about a cane for you?"

"Cane?" The clown was actually thinking seriously, "I like the purple one so it can match my suit. Do you have a purple one?"

Shilu smiled, and inserted his cane into the latch.

The door that the clown was about to open is now stuck firmly again.

This is produced by the system, the hardest thing in the world.

"I'll give it to you like this. You can buy the purple one yourself."

The detective looked around and headed in the direction of the stairs.

The clown, however, was very happy. He tiptoed forward, leaned his head against the door, and glanced at the cane, which was hard to see, "It's so beautiful!"

"Oh, my God, it has little patterns, so—cute!"

"I'd love it even more if I could get my hands on it."

"Hahahahahaha... When I go out, I will thank you very much! Sherlock Paltrow!"

"Why so serious? Aren't you willing to play a game of three?"