[Comprehensive Classics] Detective Moriarty

Fortunately, Moriarty woke up soon.

"Are you OK?"

As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw the worrying green. He rearranged his tie first, and gently stroked the folds of his suit with both hands, before answering Ciri's question, indicating that he was fine.

"I thought something really happened to you."

Ciri followed her heaving chest, "Are you sure you're okay, what kind of aftereffect is this?"

"I think it's better for you to take care of yourself, my dear miss." The person behind Ciri spoke. He has the brilliance of a young man that the world yearns for, and the face that every other girl dreams of. The little girl next to him The girl had already run away impertinently because she was knocked out, and he didn't chase after her. Instead, he asked with great interest, "Didn't you fall heavily on the ground just now?"

——Why do you still mention this matter? !Now Moriarty needs to know too!

She has always liked to put on a show in front of strangers, and insisted that as long as she is not embarrassed, it is the classic theory of others. She smiled bitterly and said: "I just carried this drunk gentleman outside to get some air. He just needs a sip of wine. Drunk, I think you can also see that our bodies are very different, and the fall was just a moment of carelessness."

Ciri glanced at Moriarty, and the latter who had just stood up immediately touched his lips with the back of his hand, made a really fake nausea and retching movement, and added a perfunctory "uh".

Ciri elbowed him again, and Moriarty immediately leaned over to Ciri's shoulder, looking really dizzy.

"Look, that's it, thank you for your concern, and forget about it."

She wrapped her arms around Moriarty's waist, nodded to Dorian, and left the back garden.

As soon as they returned to the hall, the two quickly separated. Moriarty looked normal and said to Ciri, "How did you meet him?"

Ciri looked at him with an expression of "you ask me, who am I asking?", reached out and patted his pocket, "You must remember to return the other person's pipe."

"What?" There was a trace of confusion in his eyes, but it disappeared in an instant, subconsciously stroking the shape of the protruding pipe in his pocket, and said softly: "...I will."

"Oh, Mr. Moriarty, here you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!"

The voice wasn't very nice, but it was loud enough to draw everyone's attention to her—the host, Mrs. Brandon, who looked to be in her fifties, with a pointed face and a big hooked nose on it , two pairs of eyes protruding a bit, looking fierce.

Moriarty led Ciri to meet him, "I was delayed a little while because of something and I couldn't communicate with you immediately. I hope you don't mind, Mrs. Brandon."

"How can this happen, but you must know that I have some treasures that I just unearthed today. I believe you must be interested in looking at them. It's hard to find a confidant." Brandon said with a smile, and at the same time shifted his gaze to Ciri. , those goldfish eyes shot up and down like searchlights, "Who is this?"

"Let me introduce her. She is my friend, Hillary Bird. I think you who like to read "Daily Literature" must be familiar with her."

Mrs. Brandon's expression suddenly became vivid, and she took Ciri's hand, "I wonder if it's okay to talk later—Miss Bird, you don't know, but I'm your admirer!"

Ciri glanced at Moriarty in surprise. The latter just smiled and pushed her forward a small step. Ciri followed Mrs. Brandon's footsteps towards her friends, thanking Moriah inwardly. Dee, it's better to get to know the host directly than to walk around in front of the guests.

"You must not know who is here, let me reveal it—Miss Hillary Bird!"

Some of the ladies around were suddenly enlightened, while some were thoughtful. It seemed that not everyone had heard of her name, but what she wrote was not a romance novel. In the circle of ladies, Xili had already read it. Very satisfied.

And one of the women wondered: "Why do I feel that this lady is very familiar, where did I meet—oh, I remembered! I saw it at the Savo Theater! She played Venus! You guys Have you seen that show? It’s very popular.”

"Oh, I'm always busy preparing art exhibitions, and I haven't gone to see them yet." Mrs. Brandon became more excited all of a sudden, and she leaned into Ciri's ear and asked, "So is it true?"

"I've also read your news in other newspapers. Are you also an actor in the theater? And those, that Elsa... Don't get me wrong, I don't like that woman, she died It’s good that she doesn’t look at any husband in the right way. But I think it’s just curious—this thought has something to do with your work. Is it really a real thing? Did you kill her? You can tell me Honestly, I promise not to tell anyone, and a writer-killer is more charming than an average writer."

Although it was a whisper, but it was only in place, Brandon's voice was always so loud that everyone else could hear it.

"Ms. Brandon, I think you must also admire the imagination of those writers as much as I do. I used to want to keep myself a little more mysterious, but your appearance has made my sense of mystery less than half." Ciri said. Frowning, he said calmly, "In this case, I will also remove the remaining half of my mystery. I regret to tell you that everything it says is false. For an in-depth exploration of the story, you might as well continue to pay attention to my next works.”

"Oh, it's a pity." Mrs. Brandon and the ladies who were aroused by the interest were a little disappointed, but she continued to ask: "Then what's the next story? What case will Mr. Murray be involved in?"

"Now I can only continue to veil him."

It is very painful to talk to Mrs. Brandon and her good sisters. She always introduces her guests like merchandise, but the ladies who are free at home love to gossip with her. Although time is limited, she has already I heard two or three versions of the big and small love stories in London's West End that I learned from them.

Mrs. Brandon left the table, and when the ladies were about to extend the story to the East End, she came back, the expression on her face was much happier than when she introduced Ciri just now, she took a sip of tea as soon as she sat down, Regardless of whether her glass was cold, she leaned towards Ciri and said, "You must hold Mr. Moriarty well."

Ciri almost didn't drink the cup of tea in his hand, "What?"

"Don't tell me you don't know, Mr. Moriarty has discerning eyes, is rich in money, and is so young and handsome, don't you feel a little bit moved?" Only then did Shirley realize that she was holding a banknote in her hand, slowly into the special pocket of her skirt.

Ciri could see that she was deliberately showing off that she had made a lot of money. This kind of showing off was justifiable. If she had made a lot of money, she would definitely buy a new front page article to announce to the whole city that she was rich.

However, she really knew too little about Moriarty. So he came here because he really liked art?She really didn't see it.

She fudged Mrs. Brandon a few words, but she brought the conversation right to Moriarty, and everyone started talking about the little gentleman, of whom very few anecdotes were known.Ciri really wanted to add a story about how she and Moriarty had a fight over timing of the mountain hike and rolled down the stairs from the second floor to the first floor.She herself is a book of Moriarty gossip.

She held back, she was relying on Moriarty for food now, and she had to thank him very much.

She didn't know how long she had endured, and Mrs. Brandon finally felt tired. The real social art exhibition was coming to an end, and the guests were almost gone.

Ciri saluted all the ladies and was able to walk out of the front hall to the gate of the manor.

Seeing Moriarty looking at her watch, she trotted forward, "Thank you, today is a rewarding day! Mrs. Brandon said that she will ask me to read to them next time."

"Siri, when did you become so polite? The introduction is just a matter of effort, she is easy to embarrass people, but luckily you did well enough."

"She talks a lot."

Moriarty took a step back a little later, stretched his arms, and motioned for her to get into the carriage first, "I'll take you back, oh, and, did Mrs. Brandon mention me?"

"That's really too much, but I kept saying that you bought her collection, and praised you for having a good vision and being smart."

"She does talk too much," Moriarty affirmed, "Are you curious?"

"I'm not asking about your personal affairs," Ciri said with a shrug.

Just as Moriarty was about to say something, a petite lady passed by and bumped into him, and she quickly apologized softly.

"It's okay, ma'am." Moriarty closed the carriage door with one hand, leaving Ciri inside alone, "But, did you leave something behind?"

Shirley saw his coachman step down quickly, grabbed the lady by the back of the neck, turned her around and drove her up!

what happened? !

Ciri wanted to get out of the car to check, but she found that the car door was locked, and the switch of the glass window was actually locked from the outside!

She watched Moriarty with a dagger sticking out of his left waist!

"James!" She knocked on the glass with an anxious expression on her face, and her gaze shifted to the captured woman—that little actress who played the goddess of spring? !

Moriarty pulled out the dagger calmly, the blade was gleaming white without a drop of red.He hooked his finger to the thing that had warded off the attack for him—a cigarette, a pipe? !

She looked silly.

...Is he really all right? !

Moriarty stuck the knife into the flue of his pipe and played with it carelessly.

"You killed my brother—it was you, beast in clothes! You devil!" screamed the captive girl. "I curse you! You will not be forgiven by God! Go to hell!"

"This pipe is well chosen, with a good flue." He ignored her accusation and felt nothing.He just murmured to himself, threw the things in his hands casually, and said to his driver: "Take her away and solve it. I'm really tired of wasting time on such a trivial matter."

where to takeMoriarty, are you a gangster? !