sherlock holmes brother

Speaking of this question, Michael calmed down a bit, "I told Susan that it was impossible for us, and she said that nothing is immutable. So we made a bet, if I can get used to using my right hand within half a year, then I will Gotta go out on a date with her."

Sherlock nodded and stood up directly, turned and walked out.

"Sherlock!" Watson and Lestrade followed closely behind him, especially Lestrade's face was a little stiff, "You can't just leave without saying anything, you must know that it will make you How many times have I violated by showing up here..."

"The only reason I'm here," Sherlock stopped abruptly, with strong confidence in his tone, "is because of your inability to solve the case, the second body in the cemetery, the Miss Anonymous just confirmed her identity , I thought that besides following me, what you should do now is to confirm where the person named Susan last appeared!" After speaking, he tied his scarf on himself and walked straight out.

"Sherlock!" Watson stood there helplessly, "Don't mind, you know that's what he is."

"I know," Lestrade wiped his face wearily, preparing to arrange for people to investigate the name Susan, "John, as a friend, I have to remind you, don't let Sherlock get too complacent, one day he will Make an inch of it."

"We're not..." Watson was about to give up always explaining his pure roommate relationship with Sherlock, "John!" The detective never cooperated, at least every time he wanted to explain, the other party always had something Get his attention.

He made an apologetic gesture to Lestrade again, and Watson hurried to catch up. Lestrade saw that the obviously impatient detective listened to all Watson's complaints despite his expressionless face.Then he lowered his head and saw that on the top report was an alarm from Professor Fitzwilliam, which stated that his house had been invaded illegally, and he had also received death threats.

"Whoever meddles in their own business will die", the familiar sentence jumped in the report, and then thinking of everything that happened in the interrogation room, Sherlock obviously had something to hide. "Damn Holmes..." Lestrade closed the report fiercely, and glared viciously at the direction of a certain probe he knew. , It's hard for Wilton to live with them for so long.

On the other side of the probe, a certain government official touched his nose innocently, took a sip of the black tea next to him, oh, it's terrible that there is no sugar in it.

"Serbinia, the report I want." Mycroft didn't mind his subordinate's "little hobbies" within the appropriate range. The name was just a code name.

"The video of 221C has been sorted out. The report shows that the target person left yesterday afternoon and never returned. Before leaving, he put a letter in the mailbox. After 10 minutes, the postman passed by normally and the letter was taken away." Today Miss Blackberry named "Serbinia" quickly completed the report without any subjective guesswork.

"Recipient." Mycroft began to check the data feedback with the number "WH3780".

"Sorry, boss, we didn't see it because of the angle," Sabinia's tone remained unchanged.

"You guys did a great job." Mycroft took another sip of black tea. How could his little brother not know, since the MI[-] agents couldn't see the recipient of the letter, it can only mean that Wei Wei Wilton didn't want him to know, and considering the agreement they reached when they met at home last time, Mycroft was more than [-]% sure that the recipient of Wilton's letter would be the one named "Mary" .

"Reply, Wilton is busy, keep an eye on your doctor." After confirming that the data feedback remains in the same position, Mycroft told Sabinia, "How is the investigation on that matter going?"

Sabinia's fingers tapped on the blackberry keyboard, "One of the three suspects for arson has been ruled out, and there are two more. The last trial tonight."

"Very good." Mycroft nodded, and after finishing a cup of tea, he looked at the empty cup in his hand, "Sabinia..."

"Boss, you have run out of your ration for today. Inspector Lestrade told me that you have already made an appointment with the dentist for the weekend." It was rare for Sabinia to just stare at the screen of her phone without moving. In fact, she wanted to look directly at her boss's face. Yes, but she really didn't dare.

"Has anyone ever said that you are really a good subordinate?" Mycroft said after being silent for a long time.

"Inspector Lestrade said so." When the alarm was lifted, Sabinia compared herself to a V in her heart. Everyone has someone who can't resist, and the one from her own boss has appeared, which is really good Is not it?

She checked her edited message one last time and hit send.Ten seconds later, a text message sounded in the living room of 221B.

"John, text," Sherlock yelled.

"For God's sake, I'm taking a shower, so can't you look at your phone yourself!" Watson's voice came through the sparse sound of water.

"Boring." Sherlock wrapped himself tightly. He had already identified the murderer, but there were still some details that would take time. He hadn't got the most important evidence yet. .

"God!" When Watson packed himself up, he saw the detective lying on the sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling, "Why on earth have I put up with you for so long?" It was more of a complaint than a question, Watson still picked up the phone, "Your brother's message, he said that Wilton is busy, and he is optimistic about me, what are you optimistic about me? Xia..."

His mobile phone was suddenly pulled away, and then Watson saw Sherlock tap the phone a few times quickly, and then he found that the text message had been deleted.

"Are you worried that something happened to Wilton?" Reluctantly connecting the detective's performance in the interrogation room with the text message just now, it was the first time Watson clearly felt that Sherlock didn't care about people.

"The servant of the Great Demon King?" Sherlock waved his mobile phone like a sword, "Who knows that he is not helping to plan a war, doctor, as an ordinary person, you should be vigilant!"

Watson rolled his eyes. Well, it's not the first time he's seen Sherlock's awkwardness. He obviously cares about his brother, but why does he feel so indebted?

"Wilton is a good man," Watson emphasized, "and a gentleman."

"The gentleman who brought a strange lady home?" Because of the action just now, Sherlock happened to be standing next to the window. It was also a coincidence that he saw his little brother walking on Baker Street like every day, in his arms He was holding a lady on his arm, and the wide-brimmed hat prevented him from seeing her face clearly, but there was always a familiar feeling that made some nerve of him warn him.

"Come on, Wilton is an adult." Watson, who was also standing next to the detective, also saw this scene. He patted Sherlock's forearm amusedly, thinking that his roommate's mental age might really be only 12 years old. "There will always be someone." When the last words came out, Watson thought of himself.

Before Sherlock understood what his instinct was warning him, he saw Watson's loneliness. His mind froze for a moment, and a stupid face with his mouth open but unable to say anything was reflected on the glass. "Ring——" the phone's ringing suddenly shattered the solemnity of the room. Watson answered the phone and called "Sarah" in a low voice, then opened the door and went out.

Watching the doctor leave without an explanation, Sherlock irritatedly put three nicotine patches on his arm to make his mind work again. After such an interruption, he also forgot what happened to his little brother and that woman just now .

In the living room of 221C, Wilton made himself a cup of tea, then sat in an armchair and watched his boyfriend strip himself naked without any scruples and put on a men's sportswear. "Do you know someone on this street?" The white smoke rising from the hot tea curled up, and Wilton remembered the behavior of the other party they had observed when they walked into Baker Street just now, "You have never been more like a person than you were just now." A real lady." It stands to reason that they already knew each other very well, so there was no need for any pretense.

But his boyfriend had not only put on long skirts before entering Baker Street, but had intensified his manners, either for him or someone else.Wilton had never felt that his special ability was so easy to use, and the adrenaline secreted by his boyfriend when he passed 221B downstairs was about to catch up with the time when they were talking about his own death.

"I know you." Moriarty put on the hat that came with his sportswear, changed his walking posture, and looked like a hippie youth on the street.He giggled and left a kiss on Wilton's forehead, "I'll go first, honey, this date is great, see you next time."

Wilton smiled, watching his boyfriend who didn't know his real name opened the door and walked downstairs very naturally, without even leaving a phone number. "Who the hell are you? What's your relationship with my second brother?" With a low voice like talking to himself, Wilton thought of everything he had experienced in the past few days, and pressed a button hidden on his body. Now that he is back, There is no need to worry his elder brother too much.

☆, Mycroft VS Moriarty

"Crack", after Professor Fitzwilliam returned from Scotland Yard, he opened the door of the living room, turned on the light next to him, and warm yellow light filled the entire space.

"Good evening." The unexpected voice startled him, and Professor Fitzwilliam took a wrong step back, "Why are you in my house!" His exhaustion seemed to be ignited by anger No, he looked just savage after losing his gentlemanly demeanor.

"An invitation, I received such an invitation." Sherlock put his legs down from the sofa, and his posture was light as if he was in the living room of 221B, "Meddler dies, you will not be unfamiliar with this no?"

Professor Fitzwilliam's face changed for a moment, and then he straightened his neckline as if nothing happened, "If you mean the report to Scotland Yard, yes, but this is not the same as your illegal trespassing on me without my consent. There is no direct contact with my family, right? Let me remind you that, except for my life being threatened, no one has given me an explanation about my mother's matter so far, and the efficiency of Scotland Yard is not ordinary."

"Mother?" Sherlock half turned to face Fitzwilliam, "Are you referring to the poor Mrs. Jones who was not recognized by you after her death, or Mrs. Fitzwilliam who once depended on you?" Say yes." Poor," there was no sympathy in the detective's tone.

"I respect her choice, even if I don't agree with it." Professor Fitzwilliam narrowed his eyes, "I thought it was my private matter."

"There are no pictures of you in the house, not a single one. Buzz your resume mentions that your mother got married when you were 12, and that your stepfather died six years later, but he still gives You have left a lot of property." Sherlock didn't pay attention to Fitzwilliam's precautions, "Your sofa doesn't match the decoration style of the coffee table; the square mirror hanging in the hall is a bit crooked, and you can see it from the dust on the side It’s been a while, and you’re not a meticulous person.” His voice was not loud, but it contained a strange force, “But your bookshelf is very well organized, every book is sorted alphabetically, Strictly, what makes you so different inside and outside the study?" Interrogative sentence, not a questioning tone.

"If you don't leave, I will call the police." Fitzwilliam's face was extremely ugly, and he opened the door directly.

Rarely, Sherlock didn't bother too much, "Poor lady, she must never know what her son is hiding from her, God bless her." A polite smile that had appeared on Wilton's face was dismissed Sherlock has done it, and if Watson was there, he would have discovered that Wilton is really Sherlock Holmes, and they are very similar at certain times.

Leaving Fitzwilliam's house, Sherlock began to quickly edit text messages, and at the end, he wrote, "Let Michael go, your murderer needs him." The light from the phone screen illuminated Sherlock's face slightly Bai, he put his phone away. The biggest difficulty in this case is that there is no direct evidence. The murderer did it too cleanly before.But this is not a problem for him, as long as the monster's anger in the murderer's heart has not subsided, he only needs to give the other party a fuse.

As for whether his actions will induce the other party to commit another crime and hurt the innocent, honestly Sherlock doesn't care that much. In contrast, he is more willing to think about where his doctor went tonight, the deserted living room of 221B, Xia It was rare for Locke to think about anything. Before meeting Watson, he never felt that the space of a person was too empty, but now he felt it.

Grabbing the violin irritably, almost the next second, the piercing sound of the violin came from the window of 221B. As for whether it would torment his little brother's ears, Sherlock said that he just simply likes to play the violin with the window open.

Sherlock knows Wilton, and Wilton also knows his second brother.The harsh sound of creaking and sawing wood came into the living room of 221C. Wilton, who was grading student papers on parchment, grabbed his pen tightly. If Sherlock was willing, that violin would become one of the instruments that played the most beautiful music. one.But in this situation, Wilton sighed rarely, his brother was trapped.

Simply putting away the parchment, Wilton poured himself a cup of tea. He admitted that he didn't like the doctor that much at first.For the enthusiasm, justice and kindness exuded by almost everyone, Wilton does not approve of everything the other party has shown.But Sherlock liked it, so he didn't care so much.But he didn't expect the doctor to go so far in Sherlock's heart. If he only thought they would become lovers before, now he has to consider another possibility.

Rubbing his temples, Wilton felt that it was a bit stressful to accept such a "second sister-in-law".As for his own problem, oh, he and the gentleman who doesn't know his real name are just boyfriends. The word boyfriend limits Wilton from letting him have more contact with his family. "Pork" is All he could have. As for "Sherlock Holmes", Wilton showed a smirk. Although he didn't mind finding a man to go home with him, he did mind that the man didn't have all his thoughts on him.

If there is one thing that Wilton admires Watson, it is undoubtedly the other party's wholehearted dedication.The identity of a doctor in Wilton's view makes Watson too weak at certain times, but he will stand firmly on his side when Sherlock needs it, no matter what happens.

From the previous life to this life, what Wilton recognized was the only recognition of something, or it could be called... paranoia.

The harsh noise continued, and Wilton slowly drank the tea in the cup. If it was Sherlock's final choice, he would regard the doctor as his family, just like he began to learn to treat Lestrade As his own family, Wilton respected and valued his family, which was the only thing he insisted on in this life.

The two young Holmes of Baker Street had different minds, and on the other side of London, Mycroft, still in his three-piece suit, was sitting in an armchair, with the black umbrella he had never left, in front of him. There is a computer, and there is nothing on the clean desk except the computer.

"Identity." Mycroft gently rubbed the handle of the umbrella, and the other party finally couldn't bear it and began to show his tail.

"An office employee under the Ministry of Defense." Miss Blackberry did not provide a name, and the name is meaningless to this kind of person. "On the day of the fire at the inspector's house, he stayed in the bar he often went to for half an hour. , because of the secrecy, he did it himself."

Mycroft said nothing, his eyes narrowed slightly.He had been investigating the Moriarty since the swimming pool incident, and to be honest, he wouldn't have taken part in his brother's "little game" if he hadn't threatened Sherlock's life.

It's just that the more he investigates, the more complicated the whole thing becomes. It's not surprising that there are several forces behind Moriarty's huge underground world, but there are also several layers of wrestling from the government that need to attract his attention. Pay attention.Looking at the heraldic ring on his finger, Mycroft thought of what his father had told him before he left, that Holmes represented a balance.

It can't be said that from the first generation of Sherlock Holmes, they swore allegiance to the queen. When they entered the government, their super high IQs ensured that they were trustworthy no matter what position they held.Of course, this also ensures that Holmes chooses positions with little exposure, and the surname itself has weight in the long run.

Mycroft is one of them, Sherlock is covered in thorns, Wilton is reckless, and there is always a need for a Sherlock Holmes.But Mycroft didn't wrong himself at all. It's true that it's his little hobby to balance the forces of all parties and let everyone have their own position in the game and achieve their own goals, and he can take care of him while working. Two younger brothers, Mycroft had no dissatisfaction with his work.

It's just that if the flowers bloom for a long time, they will attract bees, butterflies...or maybe flies. As Mycroft's power grows stronger, there will be some people in the government who don't like him.The secret was stolen, and Moriarty's provocation was just a test. They were testing Mycroft's bottom line and trying to find a way to destroy him.

So what Mycroft cares about is never Moriarty himself, it's a game between him and Sherlock if he doesn't dig his heart out, but when someone is eyeing the surname "Holmes", he has to pay attention .That's why Mycroft called his younger brother back from the United States. He knew Wilton's ability, but it was safer to keep him under his nose when the enemy was in the dark.

"Ding——" the computer in front of Mycroft suddenly rang, and then a dialog box automatically popped up. Inside, a man with a radiant look was staring at him. With just one look, Miss Blackberry left the office in a hurry. Since the other party can connect to their computer, more loopholes will be left.

"Mr. Moriarty, good night." Mycroft's face remained unchanged, as if a head popping out of a computer meant nothing to him.

Moriarty's mouth pouted, and he muttered something quickly in a low voice, probably complaining about Mycroft's boredom.This is an interesting change. Mycroft looked at the naked Moriarty in the video, and he knew why the other party didn't cover up - anyway, both the voice and the appearance of the swimming pool were almost exposed that night, and it would be too much to cover up. Means nothing.Of course, this also showed his absolute confidence in his ability from another aspect, which Mycroft appreciated.

"What do you want from me?" Mycroft asked while thinking.

"Just to see if you're doing well. Your little brother doesn't seem very happy recently~ Maybe he doesn't like the presents I prepared so much, but don't worry about presents with flaws." If it was Moriarty himself, He had no interest in talking to Mycroft at all. In a black suit and an office, Mycroft was as boring as every force behind him.

But Moriarty had no choice. It is not the nineteenth century anymore, and the king of the underground world without any background almost no longer exists. He also had to compromise when everything was tense.Who made him not plan to give up the profession of "consulting criminals"? There are gains and losses.

"I noticed that you seem to have a new interest recently." The person who knows you best is always your enemy. There are spies in MI[-], and there are also Moriarty, but this kind of people are always around them. Can't touch the core secrets.

Moriarty, who thought of Wilton because the other party mentioned it, directly showed a sweet smile, "I'm just in love, oh, you should tell Sherlock that I forgive him for offending me, love is really in this world The sweetest thing~" Yes, so interesting that Moriarty felt second only to him as a consultant criminal.

"Oh, congratulations." Mycroft didn't believe it or didn't believe it. People like Moriarty couldn't use common sense to judge. Maybe his younger brother could... Mycroft thought of Wilton's ability , seriously thinking about whether to ask Wilton to help the next time he has a chance to get close to Moriarty.

"Okay, since you're in good health, I'm relieved." Moriarty even blew a kiss, "Although you're not my type, I've found that I like strong men recently~" The video is in the next second It went black, Mycroft caught a clerk, Moriarty gave a warning, and no one took advantage.

"Boss, the source of the signal was cut off before confirmation, so we can only know that it is in London." Miss Blackberry replied quickly.

"Increase the monitoring level on Baker Street." Mycroft directly ordered, "And the ones near Scotland Yard." It is his habit to plan for a rainy day, and his family is his bottom line. I hope that Moriarty will not be so serious. stupid.

☆, Abandoned factory area

Michael left Scotland Yard, only feeling that the experience of the past few days had made him exhausted, and when he returned to his home, he was not surprised to see Professor Fitzwilliam sitting in the living room of his home.

"Are you okay? Arthur?" Upon seeing Michael, Professor Fitzwilliam walked into the kitchen naturally, poured a cup of hot tea, mixed it and put it in front of Michael, "After I heard about you Come to think of it, we'll be leaving in a few days."

Michael raised his eyebrows, the temperature of the hot tea calmed his restless heart well, "I thought we discussed it, Seth, you said you prefer London."

"Not now." Professor Fitzwilliam smiled. "Remember that photo you mentioned? I want to take it to my mother, you know her..."

"That's not my mother!" Michael interrupted him, "The only reason I kept that picture is because of you, it has nothing to do with that woman!" He said bluntly, "Okay, I've already I'm very tired, and you know where the guest room is." After speaking, Michael staggered into the bedroom, behind him, Professor Fitzwilliam showed a relaxed smile.

A few days later, in the living room at 221B Baker Street, Sherlock jumped up from the sofa, "John, there is news about the murderer." On his mobile phone, a red dot representing the GPS location of another mobile phone was flashing.

Watson stood by Sherlock's side without hesitation. Although following Sherlock might be dangerous, it was impossible for him to let the detective alone.As for the small red flannel box in his bedside table, let's talk about it later.

The two of them drove around half of London in a taxi and arrived at an abandoned factory area. The taxi driver looked at them suspiciously, and Watson smiled gently, "This area has been deserted for a long time, maybe it's a good idea to redevelop it. "

"John!" Sherlock was impatient with those people, even though he knew it was necessary sometimes.

The taxi driver left quickly. Sherlock led Watson through the empty buildings like the wind. Looking at the black coat in front of him without hesitation following a certain route, Watson sometimes wondered if the other party was Printed all the maps of the city of London in my head.

"It's not the city of London. There are planning and design drawings for this factory area." Sherlock stopped at some point, and Watson slammed into it.Then the detective, as if he knew what Watson was thinking, replied in a low but clear voice, "We're here." He put the phone into his coat and pressed a button before that.

Watson closed his eyes and counted from one to ten. This is a method he learned in Afghanistan. He adjusted his breathing and tried to relax as much as possible. He opened it again, nodded to the detective, and every nerve in his body was excited. Get up, he's ready.

Sherlock couldn't help showing a small smile. Whenever he saw his doctor change from a good old man to a real soldier for himself, he felt uncontrollable joy, which even exceeded his desire to win against Mycroft.

The door was gently opened, and the tall detective and the half-step doctor behind him walked into the ground like cats. Because the factory building was half-repaired and abandoned, the basement only had high and low doorways, and it was empty without knowing the location. The corridor and the uneven ground that can be felt when stepping on it are all they can see.

"Sherlock." In such an environment, if one could see a white wooden door, even a fool would know there was a problem.

Sherlock didn't speak, just leaned down and touched a threshold near them. In order to keep quiet as much as possible, his breath almost blew on Watson's face, "There is no threshold in a factory without decoration. And this..." He stretched out his hand upwards, and Watson vaguely saw that it was a woman's high-heeled shoes. Although the pink leather was a bit dull, it didn't look like something old.

"God!" Watson let out a small exclamation. He understood what the detective meant. No matter what was behind that door, the layout of this basement was man-made, with darkness, obstacles on the threshold, and unevenness. The doctor quickly understood the ground and women's high heels, and this understanding made him even more angry, "Pervert." The murderer imprisoned those poor women here, oh, maybe it's like playing a game , he watched them struggle and fear in the dark, and enjoyed the process.

"I thought you would say freak[Note 1]." Sherlock's expression was a little strange.

"He can't compare to you." Watson gave him a sideways look, his face full of knowing questions.

Sherlock touched his nose, and the two continued to move forward carefully. The delicate white wooden door was installed on the rough gray concrete wall, which seemed very inconsistent.

"Rome..." Sherlock said in a low voice, stroking the sign of "she-wolf sucking babies" on the wooden door. If there was no notch on Mrs. Jones's desk, Sherlock might have another idea.

"Safe." Watson didn't think so much. He sneaked in through the gap in the wooden door, and white light leaked out in the darkness.Sherlock followed without hesitation. If there is anyone in this world that he trusts unconditionally, then Watson is definitely on the list.

There seemed to be no difference between the outside of the wooden door and the inside of the wooden door, except for the incandescent lamps shaking above their heads every few steps, as they walked forward holding their breath, all Sherlock and Watson could hear seemed to be their own heartbeats.

"This way." Sherlock said hoarsely after his nose twitched, and Watson followed closely.

After walking nearly fifty yards[Note 2], Sherlock made a stop gesture, and then he listened.Watson observed the surrounding environment vigilantly. There was almost no place to cover them, only a narrow gap less than [-] centimeters was relatively hidden, but the prerequisite was that the other party was not so careful.

"John." Sherlock moved suddenly. He followed Watson's gaze to see the narrow slit, and then he wrapped people in his coat and stuffed them in without thinking.

"Sherlock." Watson was shocked at first, and then suddenly realized the dangerous situation they were in. The gun was firmly held in his hand, and his thinking had never been clearer.

"You don't fear the battlefield, you just miss it." Mycroft's voice echoed in Watson's mind, he looked up at the detective, and Sherlock used the long black coat to almost blend the two of them into the gap , in order to minimize possible reflections, Sherlock even lowered his head as much as possible, hoping to achieve the best concealment.

One lowered his head, the other raised his head, and the breaths of the two were entangled, forming an ambiguity, but none of them had such thoughts now.

"Boom", "Boom..." first the sound of the door being opened, then the sound of footsteps, and then the sound of singing. Both Sherlock and Watson knew that it was the murderer himself, just as Watson wanted to do something At that time, Sherlock stopped him. Although he didn't know the reason, the long-term tacit understanding made them quickly reach an agreement.

Maybe it was really because of good luck, or maybe it was really because the other party was too complacent, the murderer's footsteps skipped over Sherlock and Watson who were close together, and the distance between them was less than 1 yard at the nearest time.

The singing and footsteps gradually faded away, and finally there was a muffled sound from the direction they came from. Sherlock and Watson knew that the murderer had left.

"Sherlock." After the danger was gone, the exhaustion caused by the sudden relaxation of the nerves made Watson almost spread on Sherlock's body. He also just noticed that there was no distance between them at all, shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, Sherlock wrapped them together without a gap.

"Sherlock." Watson felt his blushing, "Should we go out?" His voice became smaller and smaller, because he found that the breath he brought out when he spoke hit Sherlock's face and immediately stopped I was sucked back by myself.

"Wait a minute, there is no shelter around here. If he comes back, we will be in trouble. We can't catch him today, so...be patient." Whether it was intentional or unintentional, Sherlock still spoke as much as possible. Lowering his head, even though he has no reason to lower his head now, but the doctor buried in his coat looking at him blushing, Sherlock felt never satisfied.

"Then we... now... can we leave..." After some time, Watson swore that this was the most difficult time in his life, even more than when he was lying on the Afghan desert waiting for the task When the signal starts.

"Okay." Sherlock finally said, although he didn't want to leave, but he had to ensure the safety of the possible person in the room, he would be the biggest witness for them to catch the murderer.

The door of the room was opened again, and Watson noticed a small room with glass walls on all sides in the middle, and a man in a wet sackcloth robe was lying in the middle, his face covered by the same sackcloth.

"Muscle relaxants." Watson lifted the wet sackcloth covering the man's face. The man's ugly face showed many problems, especially the fact that he was conscious but unable to remove the sackcloth that hindered his breathing. As a doctor, doing It is not difficult to make such a judgment.

Sherlock slapped the other person's face unceremoniously, "Professor Michael, do you remember me?"

"A small amount of sedative." Watson revised his judgment again. The principle of sedatives is to slow down the excitatory response of nerve cells, in other words, to weaken the opponent's thinking ability.

"Professor Michael!" Sherlock hit a little harder, "I need you to stay awake." He didn't look back, and Watson called the police after he came in.

In less than an hour, all Scotland Yard police officers arrived again, preventing the usual debate. Michael, the victim, had already boarded the ambulance. According to Sherlock's request, no one said anything. Everything was ready, just wait Then he came to the door by himself.

"Sherlock." Under Lestrade's command, the Scotland Yard police officers have already begun a comprehensive forensic investigation of the room. Normally at this time, Sherlock would either pick on the thorns, or