Silent guardian

"Hmm." Mo La raised her eyebrows, "I have to thank you, if you didn't blow up my house, I wouldn't be so lucky to live here."

"To each other, I jumped Waterloo Bridge once, you jumped the window once, and we are even." The voice paused, "However, I still regret it, it was not a wise decision, although I found it a little interesting things."

Mora didn't answer, just picked up the violin in her arms and tuned a few notes, then put it down again, repeating the action of writing.

Quiet, unbelievably quiet.

If it weren't for the Arman perfume that occasionally wafted to the tip of Mora's nose, she would have almost forgotten that there was another person here.

"Arman? You changed the brand? You used to only use BVLGARI."

"I chose this specially for you, how about it, do you like it?"

Mora turned her head, and turned away just to take a look, but was completely stunned.

It was a slender man with a completely unfamiliar exquisite face, a thin layer of pomade was smeared on the jet-black hair, he was wearing a black coat, and his leather shoes were polished brightly, shining like the watch on his hand , except that the voice is still James King, but there is no shadow of the past anywhere else.

"Is this what you look like?"

"No, this is Kim, Kim Moriarty."

Kim Moriarty!

Criminal mastermind, Sherlock Holmes' nemesis, Kim Moriarty?

In the original play, Moriarty and Sherlock met for the first time at Bats Hospital. At that time, Moriarty was Jasmine's boyfriend, and deliberately approached Sherlock pretending to be gay, but now, because of her, the two The meeting has been brought forward, but the relationship with her, the copycat version of Jasmine, is still complicated. Is this the so-called changing the soup without changing the medicine? What really serves the plot is not the appearance of the characters, but the intricate relationship between the characters.

Mora's mind was racing, her expression remained the same, but she frowned regretfully, changed to a brand new paper, and wrote again.

"Your real name?"

"Of course,,,,,, no." James shrugged, "It's just my name, but I still like your name James, in order to highlight its uniqueness, so I let James King die. "

"Oh?" Mora dragged out the end, "My pleasure."

Hearing what Mora said, the smile on James's face deepened, "I read John Military Doctor's blog, dancer, a good name, so I came to see you."

"Oh, thank you." Mora thanked politely, and said very sincerely, "I just hope you don't bring anything here, don't take anything away, and don't leave anything behind."

"Oh, of course." James put his fingers on his forehead and said with a smile, "I'm just here to meet an old friend, of course I won't do these rude actions, but," he changed the subject, "I'm here to see you It's really not easy. First of all, we need to get rid of those people from MI[-] and England Square, then there are homeless people who live there, and finally there is an old lady with a bad hip bone. Still come to visit the prison."

"You don't have to go through so much trouble. If you come in openly, they won't stop you, and they won't stop you. Even if you blow up the entire Baker Street, they can only watch."

"Thank you for your compliment." James showed an ambiguous smile, "However, it's not the end of the script yet, although I don't like irrelevant people appearing in my territory, especially for such an important meeting, but in order to accompany you more Sherlock can still bear it after playing for a while."

Mora stood up, feeling some pain in her feet, and couldn't help frowning. Before she could react, James' left hand had already supported her arm, and his right hand blocked her right shoulder. This action It reminded Maura of Sherlock, and suddenly, the strength on her shoulders increased, and the pain of the past emerged from memory again.

"Don't think about him!"

Mora looked up at him, smiled and said, "You can't control my thoughts."

"Then I will make you never see him again."

Mo La smiled again, with a touch of sarcasm, "You don't want to take me away, imprison me, or kill him. You probably wouldn't do such stupid things."

"Of course." James put his arms around Moura, put her on the sofa, and then squatted down on one knee in front of her, "You know, I must have a way, maybe it's not as simple as designing those cases before, but If you want to drive a wedge between you and Sherlock, there is no way, if you take Watson under the knife, guess how he will react."

Mora didn't speak, but just stared at James' hand, which was still so slender, but no longer warm, stroking her fingertips with incredible gentleness.

"Tell me, what was the answer in the hole last time? Why did you choose to interrupt the plot at that time? Why didn't you wait until he made a choice?" His hand began to move towards the wrist, like a snake With the cold of ice and snow, Maura felt that she could not breathe. She knew that this was James' psychological tactic, but she still couldn't help thinking, if something happened to Watson, what would happen to Sherlock, and what would happen to her? How, if all this has something to do with her, then she will definitely lose him forever, and when she thinks of Sherlock's back, her heart aches unceasingly.

With a cold face, without revealing the slightest emotion, she whispered, "Your words are poison!"

"You're scared!" James quickly grabbed Moura's wrist that was about to withdraw, his eyes locked on Moura's dilated pupils, and he smiled proudly, "Look, I caught your lifeblood. Feelings? That's a fatal wound, that's how I lost to you last time, so, this time it's your turn."

For the first time, Mora felt that her momentary soft-heartedness was a mistake. She shouldn't have shot at the darkness, and she shouldn't have given up that once-and-for-all opportunity, so that now, her lifeline is controlled by another person, and the feeling of being controlled by someone is absolute. It was uncomfortable, and it was like torture for a person like Mora who habitually controlled others. The humiliation and remorse weighed on her heart together, making her wish to shoot James in the head immediately.

James let go of Maura and sat back in Watson's chair.

"Do you regret it?" James asked, "You regret letting me go."

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" James was a little surprised, "I thought you would say yes."

Mo La looked at him steadily, "Don't give me a reason to kill you, James King."

It's a statement, like saying the sky is blue, and no one will question its truth.

James laughed disapprovingly, "Okay, I'll wait."

Mora's eyes froze.

James went on to say, "Don't worry, I'm reluctant to let him hang up so soon. I like to see him dancing. The world is too boring. He is a good toy."

"Toys?" Mora smiled sarcastically, "Just don't play with fire."

"Accept your good words." James smiled and said in an indifferent tone, "I don't like variables, and I don't like having you participate in our battle. If you choose to stand on his side, then Bear the price of the choice." Then he stood up and looked out the window.

Big Ben had struck eleven, and the morning had passed in a blink of an eye.

"It's getting late, I should go."

James took out a rose from his bosom, which was as bright as it had just been picked from the garden, and there were even a few drops of dew on the petals. He put the rose in Maura's hand, and then placed a kiss on her forehead, "Goodbye, Mora, my beloved girl, thank you for your kindness that allows me to live to this day, I believe that the next meeting will be even more exciting."

It was a lonely kiss, lonelier than the clouds in the sky.

Mora stayed in place in a daze, listening to the footsteps downstairs gradually receding, and finally disappeared into the roaring engine.

She was silent for a long time, and then her eyes lit up, and she stood up suddenly, but because she maintained a posture for too long, her muscles were paralyzed. This movement was fast and urgent, so she fell to the ground tragically.

"hiss!"

The rose was crushed by her palm, and a thorn went into her palm.