Bad days as neighbors with Sherlock Holmes

"Peacock?" Watson laughed. "It must be a beautiful enough peacock."

He put the things aside, "Miss Molson was surprised. I will go and have a look in a few days."

"Maybe," Elena sighed, "whatever."

She got up and made a pot of tea, "Do you need it, both of you?"

"Maybe you'd like some more dessert?" a female voice said.

Mrs. Hudson poked her head out of the kitchen, holding a plate that seemed to be full of hot biscuits.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," Watson happily took the plate, and then looked at Elena, "Miss Molson, would you like to sit in the living room on the second floor? Tea and biscuits go well together. What do you think, Holmes?"

Elena looked at Holmes who was taking off his hat.

"Of course," said Holmes, sensing her gaze, with a gesture of invitation. "I am always at your disposal, my dear lady. We happen to have something to ask you."

Elena raised her eyebrows.

She followed the two upstairs, and then unceremoniously sat on the most comfortable chair on the side.

The fireplace was burning again, dispelling some of the night's chill.

After taking a sip of tea, Elena leaned back comfortably in the chair, chatting with the two of them.

"Where did you come from, gentlemen?" she guessed. "Scotland Yard?"

"Exactly," said Holmes. "Where do you find that?"

He looked at himself, "Smoke?"

Elena shook her head.

"Maybe it's mud spots on the clothes?" Watson guessed.

"No, I guessed it casually." Elena crossed her fingers and casually placed them on her knees, showing a somewhat smug smile. "After all, such a big case came out. You must be very interested."

In fact, she is not interested in reasoning about details, it's just based on one person in charge's guess about another person in charge.

For example, Inspector Lestrade must have invited foreign aid.

Watson couldn't help laughing, the beard on the corner of his mouth was almost piercing his cheeks.

Holmes also shook his head with a smile.

"And you must have come back from a new office. After staying there for a day, don't you feel good? Do everything by yourself?" Holmes approached Elena and looked at him. "There may be a man in extraordinary clothes and makeup, Must be a trendy person?"

He plucked a feather from the ground where Elena walked, "How fashionable! It must be that the economic conditions are not particularly good, but I love these luxury things."

"Not bad at all," Elena was a little frustrated, "I found myself taking over a mess."

She sighed, "Although I have seen how bad a stall can be, I didn't expect that there are bad hands in the bad."

Not very used to complaining about work, Elena threw a biscuit into her mouth, changed the subject altogether, and looked at Holmes.

"Is there any progress on the case?" she asked. "You seem to be in a strange mood?"

"Actually, there has been some progress," Watson stammered.

He went to the window and pulled down the curtain that was blowing around due to the wind, as if he didn't know where to start.

"There may be a point where the progress is not particularly accurate," said Holmes, clasping his hands together, leaning back.

Elena tilted her head noncommittally.

"Why?" she asked, "What difficulties did you encounter? No one was caught?"

"Actually, they were caught," said Watson, "but there was something strange about the scene."

He also sat down and took a sip of tea, "Scotland Yard caught some people who participated in the siege and interception that night. Then the next day, like a miracle, these villains who escaped that night were trapped in a room In the house that caught fire, I had to call for help outside, which led to the firefighters and the police, and it turned out that the so-called fire was just fake thick smoke.”

"Whoa," Elena said approvingly, "that's pretty cool. But why?"

The why here obviously refers to why these villains are so unlucky to be trapped in a room.

"That is where the problem lies, Miss Molson," asked Holmes, rising abruptly. "A strange note was left on the spot."

He reached out and took out the piece of paper from the inner pocket of the coat, and put it in front of Elena, "Look at this, Miss Molson."

Elena took the piece of paper in confusion.

"What's this?" she read. "Looks like it's written to a loved one, 'a small gift for my lovely successor.' Is it a hint about the unsung heroes?"

Taking another biscuit from the plate, Elena added sugar and thought for a while.

"Successor? Are you referring to the little baby?" She said thoughtfully, "No wonder they were exterminated like this yesterday, and they were so rampant that they left no room. So that's how it is."

"Actually, we suspect a question," Holmes asked inquiringly. "Miss Molson, I would like to know, besides your father and aunt, do you have any other relatives?"

"No more," Elena replied bluntly, "Except for my father and aunt, the rest are living happily in the kingdom of heaven."

The countess had no relatives at all, not even distant nephews, so she was not worried that after her father passed away, a nephew whom she had never met would inherit the estate and be sent to a lunatic asylum for the rest of her life.

"What about my friends?" Watson also came over, "For example, old architects, knights, assassins or witches and other mysterious characters with inheritance?"

He said obviously jokingly, "Don't worry, if this is the case, we will never say it."

Eileen looked at the serious expressions of the two, and suddenly thought of teasing them a little.

"If I tell you, will you keep a secret for me?" She lowered her voice with a mysterious look.

"I will," Watson nodded, "and so will Holmes."

He turned his head to look at Holmes, and Holmes nodded solemnly in cooperation.

"Then it's the same for me," Elena still replied softly.

Then she laughed.

Watson was stunned.

He turned his thoughts around, and finally came to his senses, and couldn't help laughing too.

"I really don't have any secrets," Elena thought for a while, and replied, "My mother's side doesn't have any relatives anymore, and neither does my father's side."

She pondered for a while, "As for the successor—"

Watson pricked up his ears.

"I am the successor of socialism!" Elena replied loudly.