Silent guardian

The car was stuck in the middle of the road, surrounded by hundreds of cars.

"There seems to be an accident ahead." The driver said apologetically, "I'm afraid we won't be able to make it through today."

"It's okay, I'll just play here."

Mora opened the car door and walked out. She wanted to go through the crime scene, which was a shortcut to Jasmine's house, but she was stopped by a policeman within a few steps.

"Sorry, miss. This is the scene of the crime, and you can't pass through it at the moment."

The dazzling red lights flickered in the distance, and police cars parked in twos and threes in the open space in front of the high-rise buildings. Police officers in uniform and medical personnel walked back and forth, some were maintaining traffic on the road, and some were holding reports and whispering to each other.

"What happened?"

"The mysterious suicide incident has been solved, and now we are cleaning up the scene, which may delay your time for a while."

"Anyone hurt?"

"Sorry, this is still in the confidential stage."

Mora took out the forensic identification work card of Bats Hospital, imitated Sherlock's tone, and spit out a long series of clear and fluent words, "There are wrinkles on the collar, and there are still inferior perfumes, and there are unwashed hair stains on the temples. Massage essential oil, the crystals are covered with blood, and the eyes are lax. At first glance, it is a symptom of excessive indulgence, or you happen to meet someone on the street, and you happen to go to the hotel together, or even stay there overnight... Do you want me to go on?"

"No, there's no need." The young policeman looked embarrassed, and felt his forehead start to sweat, "No one was injured, except that the criminal was shot dead."

"So can I go in now?"

The policeman took a serious look at the work permit in her hand, and immediately turned away.

"Thank you."

This trick is really easy to use, not only saves time but also saves effort, no wonder Sherlock likes to use it so much.

I hope that the police will know if she is making up the words and whether she will vomit blood.Of course, the premise is that they will meet again, but that kind of probability is comparable to the destruction of the earth.

This is a huge cycle, but also a butterfly effect.

Mora passed by the center of the field and looked up. Sherlock was standing in front of the ambulance, with a red shawl on his shoulders, his hands wrapped around his chest, his mouth was moving quickly, and Lestrade nodded from time to time.Watson, on the other hand, stood beside the police car outside the blockade line ten meters away from the ambulance, looking thoughtful.

"John?"

"Hey, Molly, why are you here?"

"Oh, by the way, I just saw you here, so I came over to say hello."

"Really?" Watson looked into the distance, where several policemen were clearing the cordon. Thinking of Mora's job status, he nodded with some epiphany.

Mo La took a few steps closer and found that there was something missing from his body, and his body was standing more straight than when he saw him at noon.

"Your crutch?"

"Oh." Watson was startled, and only then realized that he had lost the belongings that he must have brought with him since he retired, "It may have been left in the restaurant, yes, it must have been during the meal earlier Forgot to take it away. But," he changed the subject, "Why are you here? Do you live near here?"

"My house is right in front." Mora pointed to a residential building in the distance.

"Do you have to walk so far after get off work every day?" Watson said slightly worried, "Try to go home as soon as possible in the future, the nearest London is very unsafe."

"Really?" Mora laughed, "Thank you for reminding me."

At this time, Sherlock's eyes also turned around, swept past Mora, and stopped on Watson. Watson glanced at him and turned his head away uncomfortably.

It's really ambiguous. If Mora didn't know the inside story, I'm afraid she couldn't help but fantasize.

"Just pretend I didn't say anything, I was frightened, and I was talking nonsense." Sherlock tried hard to prevaricate.

"Okay, but you have to come to the police station tomorrow." Lestrade issued the final "ultimatum", patted Sherlock on the shoulder and left.

Sherlock walked over, the red color of the shawl diluted the black elements all over his body, and softened his water chestnut to a certain extent, his curly hair matched his steps, trembling slightly in the air.

As Maura watched him approach slowly, feeling that the brand of Sherlock Holmes was gradually fading, she began to question the definitions left over from the sensory world of those distant third parties.

She really knows Sherlock Holmes well?

"Jasmine? You want to go back? But you don't usually go this way."

"Oh, I just went shopping and wanted to take a shortcut home." Mo La opened the convenience bag, and there was still a trace of heat left in the fresh egg tarts, she took out a box and handed it to Sherlock, "It's still a little warm, if you don't mind if."

"Oh, of course." Sherlock took it without hesitation, and passed one to Watson, "Cpelisling's latest green grape flavor, um, I haven't eaten it for a long time." Sherlock glanced at the label, a little surprised Looking at Mo La, "You get off work at five o'clock, and it's almost 09:30 now. Excluding the one and a half hours you took to eat and take a taxi, don't you tell me that you have been waiting in line for egg tarts for the remaining three hours?"

Watson took a bite, heard Sherlock's inference, and stopped chewing. He stared at the egg tart in his hand, and then at Mora, wondering whether he should continue.

"Hmm." Mora smiled, "Is there something wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong with it." Sherlock took a bite and raised his eyebrows, "It's just that you never liked eating these things before."

Mora froze for a moment, then said with a smile, "Today I suddenly felt like eating, there is no special reason."

Sherlock glanced at her silently, then concentrated on eating.

It's no different, Sherlock who is eating is the same as most ordinary people, his eyebrows are slightly raised, his eyes are covered, and he even has a little childishness. But it makes people inexplicably happy.

Yes, joy, Mo La looked at him, as if seeing J drinking green soda, the slender and long lips outlined a poppy-like smile, which was irresistible, but also impossible to get close to.

But unlike Sherlock, J has someone he wants to protect. He is not a person occupied by reason, but his reason is all based on a weak feeling, which is often ignored by people. Feelings even ignored by himself.

"this is for you."

At the fork in the road, Mora handed Sherlock the remaining large bag of egg tarts.

"Oh, thank you." Sherlock took the convenience bag and threw it to Watson.

Mo La's eyes darkened, and without saying anything, she waved at the two and left.

"She gave it to you. You should take it yourself. Why did you throw it to me?" Watson looked at Sherlock with some headaches, just like a father looking at a naughty child.

Sherlock raised his head with some kind of contempt, "What else? You want me, a man dressed like a gentleman, to carry a bag containing food? Besides, I just took the pills, and I haven't washed my hands yet."

"Then you still ate just now?"

"Didn't you eat it too?"

Watson sighed, "Sherlock, are you always like this?"

Sherlock answered irrelevantly, "Don't equate your IQ with mine."

",,,,,," Watson was at a loss for words. He remembered that some people said that Sherlock was a high-intelligence anti-social personality. Although he did not lose his ethics and morals, he did lack normal emotions.

The author has something to say:

Jin Jiang convulsed so badly that the previous chapter could not be revised.