[British and American Drama] The murderer is in sight

Lance grinned, accepting Sherlock's unusual compliment, while the man sitting opposite frowned, "Sherlock, I never knew you knew someone..."

"um" Sherlock stretched out his index finger and shook, "There are still many things you don't know."

The man pursed his lips, and turned his gaze to Lance, "I'm Lestrade, the policeman."

"Sheriff." Lance smiled gently, "Do you like Sherlock?"

Sherlock squinted, "Oh, don't ask him such a question."

The curly-haired female police officer sneered even more when she heard it, "Who would like Sherlock?"

Lance squinted, "Everyone loves Sherlock."

"Oh?" Sherlock seemed a little surprised, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Lance took the words lightly, turned to look at Lestrade, "What's your answer, Sheriff?"

Lestrade took a deep breath, "Everyone loves Sherlock."

"Sounds like a compliment." Lance nodded, "especially in this tone."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, "The phone is in his hand, but I didn't find him when he arrived at the appointed place."

Lestrade jumped up almost immediately, "You? Promise? You have an appointment with the suspect? The murderer?! Sherlock, do you know..."

"Oh~" Sherlock raised his hands and covered his ears impatiently, "It's too late."

"what?"

John wiped his mouth, "Because Sherlock said that it was too late to notify the police at that time, and the text message had already been sent."

Lestrade clenched his fists, "SMS? Who sent the ghost text message?! You actually sent text messages?"

John paused as he licked his lips, "um...that, it's me."

Lestrade lowered his head to look at John who was sitting on the ground, and John felt uncomfortable under his gaze.

Lance glanced at them, "If the phone is indeed in the hands of the murderer, don't you have computer trackers or something? Make a call and locate it, if it's the victim's own phone unless he's a good phone assembler public Isn’t the mobile phone you use easy to track?”

"..."

"..."

Lestrade made a move.

"It's just to make sure that the phone is in Danan's hands." Lance blinked, "And whether he will answer the phone."

Sherlock moved his fingers, "You are right, she is not stupid, the name she left..."

Lestrade gasped, "Rachel is indeed her daughter's name."

"Oh~ where is she now?"

"She's dead." Lestrade snorted coldly. "She's an unborn girl, so, Sherlock?"

"Is that mobile phone really in the hands of the murderer?" A man next to him squinted his eyes, and his tone was not very good, "What if he has already lost it? After all, according to what you said, some people sent him text messages. To scare the snake..."

"Thank you for participating Anderson." Sherlock said, "Now please carefully look for the contraband in my house."

Anderson patted the glove.

"What do you think?" Sherlock asked again, his eyes staring straight at Lance, whose flickering light made Lance dizzy.

"I'm just a visitor." Lance sat up straight. "You haven't even poured me a cup of tea yet."

"Now is not the time for tea."

"Oh! 'rachel' is her daughter's name, it must be something very important to her, even life." Sherlock jumped up, "The password for the suitcase is not this, what else? What else Could it be related to this?"

"..." Lance took out his phone and looked at the time. It was already very late. It would be midnight to take a shower if he walked back at this time, not to mention that the weather in London is already very cold.

"Mobile phone!" Sherlock stared at the phone in Lance's hand.

Lance nodded, "The latest model has a positioning system. If you lose it, you can locate it." He paused, "The address will be sent to the bound mailbox."

Now a bunch of people are busy again, Sherlock seems to always have a way to find things that others can't find, the computer is placed on the table, the operation is very simple, Lance looked down at the corner of the text message he just received After bending over, he got up, "John, it's getting late, I'll go back first."

John paused as he was about to walk towards Sherlock, "Are you leaving? You haven't even had a cup of tea yet!"

Lance also paused, and became speechless, "I thought you had forgotten."

John smiled awkwardly, and Sherlock yelled again, "John! Cell phone!"

Then John smiled even more apologetically, and hurried over.

Lance was a little subtle in his heart, and he really looked like a friendly thing was about to happen. Speaking of which, if he hadn't really seen him, he wouldn't believe that Sherlock and John got along well, although it does seem to be the case now, but Who can know the future?

Nodding to Lestrade as a greeting, Lance tugged on the collar of his windbreaker, and then went down the stairs, touching the pistol on his back waist on the way.

Mrs. Hudson, the landlord of Sherlock and John, seemed very worried, and immediately came out when she heard someone going downstairs, she seemed surprised when she saw Lance, "Oh?"

"Good evening, ma'am." Lance raised the corners of his lips, "I'm John's friend, and his crutch just fell on the road."

"Okay, good boy." Mrs. Hudson pursed her lips, "Can you tell me what happened? Sherlock is actually a good boy."

Lance shook his head, "It's just that the police officers are asking Sherlock for help, and the method may be a little too aggressive."

"Then Sherlock is all right?" Mrs. Hudson's eyes widened. "They won't make things difficult for him, will they?"

Lance rolled his eyes, "Of course, ma'am."

"That's great." Mrs. Hudson breathed a sigh of relief. "I like this couple very much. You know John looks very gentle."

"You're right Ma'am." Lang paused, "But now it's getting dark and I have to go back first."

"Okay, okay, young man, you must eat the little biscuits I baked next time you come, they are delicious!" Mrs. Hudson also had a smile on her face, and turned into an enthusiastic Miss.

Lance agreed, and only after exchanging names with this friendly woman did he leave 221b Baker Street.

It was already night and the streets of London were empty, and even breathing was deserted. Lance stood at the door, his gaze paused diagonally, and he sighed suddenly, "If this group of IQs have been Sherlock hit the police officer under the floor and remembers to check inside the fireplace, Sherlock will be in trouble." Then he smiled mockingly, "But it seems impossible, he is escorted by someone."

He strode across the street, stooped and knocked on the window of a taxi.

An elderly driver wearing a hat opened the window. He saw Lance's eyes light up, and then he greeted casually, "You look cold!"

"Yes sir." Lance frowned, "The weather is really bad, I mean my home is not far away, can your car go?"

The driver pursed his thick lips, as if thinking, "Oh, I just want to take a rest here."

Lance looked down, swayed on the operating lever in the car, and then stood up straight, "Are you not carrying passengers?"

The driver paused, and finally nodded, "Okay, okay, it's rare that there is still business at this time!"

Lance smiled, opened the car door and got in, "It's on xx street."

"Oh?" The driver narrowed his eyes, "I thought you would sit in the back seat."

"I'm used to sitting where you are." Lance raised his eyes, he raised his phone to eye level and began to edit text messages, "Your phone is beautiful."

The driver glanced at him, but said nothing.

Lance leaned on the cushion and looked at the scenery outside the window. A few minutes had passed. In his eyes, the street lamps on the side of the road had become a piece, which looked like luminous ribbons, dazzled people's eyes.

"I thought you would take me home." Lance said depressed.

"I thought you wouldn't get in my car." The driver sneered, "I really don't know where you got the courage."

Lance sighed, "Because I think your current target is probably Sherlock, and I'm still relatively safe."

The car turned another corner, and Lance opened the text message while playing with his fingers.

[amazing]

"I'm sleepy." Lance frowned, "You've been looking around and you don't really mean not to send me back. Is it fun to procrastinate?"

"You know?" said the driver, "my target could be Sherlock Holmes, or you."

Lance's eyes widened, looking surprised, "Do you know who I am?"

"..."

"You don't even know who I am, and I'm still your target?" Lance was even more surprised, "Isn't it because I just got into your car, so I just said that for the convenience of doing it?"

"……To shut up!"

"Okay." Lance nodded, and then raised his hand. Before the driver could react, a pistol was already pressed against his temple. His pupils suddenly shrank and his eyes stared straight ahead. There were veins on the back of the hand holding the steering wheel. violently.

"This one of mine is a real guy." Lance's hand was extremely steady. "My luck is really good. I don't know if the London Police Department will give me a good citizen award tomorrow."

The muscles on the driver's face twitched, but he still forced himself to smile, "I..."

"The biggest difference between me and Sherlock is..." Lance looked at him, "Although he seems to be able to fight, he won't be able to overthrow a team by himself like me~"

"..."

The author has something to say: Lance’s profile of the driver was originally written, but I felt that the hatred value was too high. I felt that Lance was smarter than Sherlock. In order not to steal the show, I deleted it , I will paste it here for you to see:

"I'm just a visitor." Lance sat up straight. "You haven't even poured me a cup of tea yet."

"Now is not the time for tea."

"Okay." Lance said helplessly, "I have also read some reports. What I can know is that the known victims come from different classes, and the time of the victimization is also different. His ability to abduct these people shows that he It must be able to approach them without arousing the suspicion of others. This may be related to his profession, a profession that can meet all kinds of people on the streets of London, and then his killing cycle. It has to be said that nearly one One life per month is very regular, he knows that less crime can reduce the outflow of his information, he still retains his sanity, and in the end he uses poison." Lance spread his hands, "He can abduct these people, of course I don't know these people Have you ever been stunned before, but using drugs is the way he can appreciate the victim's death process for the longest time, he enjoys this process, he can get release from it, of course it does not rule out that this is to show his desire to control One kind of manifestation, the source may be life pressure or sudden changes, of course, I think sudden changes can be ruled out, because this kind of murderer will gradually shorten his killing cycle after getting vent."

"good."

"Perhaps these victims also contacted their relatives and friends before they died. If they contact the latest news, they may find common points. You must know that the chances of such common points appearing in these different people are not very high. With a little contact with the suspect’s occupation, it’s easy to have a list.” Lance looked at Lestrade, “In addition to the Rachel you said this time, the lady she left behind, Rachel, she is indeed It’s her daughter’s name. For the love and guilt of her beloved daughter, she should use her in the part related to her life. It’s obviously impossible for the password of the suitcase to be four digits, so she needs to use another one, such as In case she encounters danger, she can carry an insurance method that can be found by others within easy reach."

Feel it, this way there is no role for Sherlock qaq

So let Lance retreat silently... Yuanmu

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