Bad days as neighbors with Sherlock Holmes

After meeting those eyes straight at the door, Elena was a little lost.

She seemed to see the long-lost modern metropolis through those eyes strangely.

And when Elena came back to her senses, she found that she was already holding the box in her arms, holding a note in her hand, and stood at the door a little stupidly.

While waiting for the carriage, she thought about it carefully.

Since this note was left behind, what happened today should be related to what happened last time, that is to say, someone might be following her secretly.

Why are they doing this?

Is it for herself, her mother, or the family and property behind her father?

There are too few clues, and Elena is not very good at reasoning, so she still can't figure it out.

She complained a few words in a low voice, said a few harsh words to the stalker who was far away, and then got into the carriage on her own.

After getting the box, except for a moment when she quietly lost her mind, Elena was still very focused.

She quickly opened the box after sitting in the carriage.

I thought someone was trying to steal her mother's diary, but it turned out to be her diary.

Then Elena remembered that there was a mechanism in this box.

She tried to break the corner of the box, but it didn't move.

She signaled Watson beside her to break.

Although puzzled, Watson complied.

Also did not break.

Does the agency need any hard conditions to trigger it?

Elena thought about it.

If that's the case, so the thief really came for her, and not to use the mother's diary to threaten to expose their family's reputation?The "successor" left in his words is she?

But she didn't know what she was going to inherit.

Elena chose to give up the mechanism of pondering the box.

She opened the box, flipped through the diary twice, and felt that there was nothing in her diary, and there was no note from the mysterious person, so she simply threw the things to Holmes who was waiting for her to calm down.

"Let me remind you first, gentlemen," she said hesitantly, "I don't know why the contents inside were stolen, but I think most of them are of no use to you... If you finish reading it, you can return it to us." me?"

Holmes glanced up at Elena.

"The vast majority of them are my sketches," Elena explained, "I can't figure it out. At most, I draw a sketch of my surroundings every day, and then I complain about my work relationship at most. What's there to steal? My room There are a lot of them. You can’t give them away, let alone no one wants this kind of thing.”

"Could it be used to imply my privacy?" She was completely puzzled, "There is no such thing above."

Nothing on it except work related.

Sitting wobbly on the bumpy carriage, Elena suddenly had an idea.

She is only good at construction, Holmes is a ready-made detective.Or, hire Sherlock Holmes?

Elena touched her purse.

There is no need for anything else, just go back tonight and ask Holmes what he thinks.

Putting aside these clueless things, Elena gestured at the building structure in her palm, read a few more words in a low voice, then straightened her wrinkled skirt after the bumps, and planned to get out of the car.

Instead, Holmes closed the book this time, put it in the box, and stood up in front of her extremely quickly.

Holmes opened the compartment door and jumped down from the side door, the corner of his coat raised an elegant arc.

He stood firmly on the ground, adjusted his clothes, and stretched out his hand to her.

Elena raised her eyebrows, she found that this gentleman can always be considerate in unexpected places.

She said thank you, helped her out of the carriage, and accepted the kindness.

scotland yard.

Holmes acted as her protector while Elena was being questioned in the absence of her father, so as to avoid leading questions.

Dr. Watson followed the forensic doctor who belonged to the Metropolitan Police Department to check the corpse. The forensic doctor seemed to be very interested in Dr. Watson's opinion, and they discussed it along the way.

The dark room made Elena feel a little uncomfortable, and she didn't eat breakfast. Answering questions in such an uncomfortable situation is not a good idea.

She resisted the twitching of her stomach to answer the question. She had already missed her morning shift, and she only hoped to solve this matter quickly so that she could have a meal before going to work in the afternoon.

"Is there your seal on it?" asked the inspector. "Do you think this is the reason for the theft?"

"My chapter is easy to imitate," Elena said, "I generally don't use it for business, most private correspondence. But I will draw a small architectural pattern under the chapter, each time is random, to prevent theft .”

"And your private signature?"

"You can't tear off my name and use it as a check," Elena laughed.

"What about this falsified record of having an affair with you?"

"It's absolutely impossible," Elena replied, "Then they also have to find an architect with steady hands and straight lines."

After going through a series of procedures such as "what's your name, where do you live", I finally came to the final question.

"So you don't know why your notebook was stolen?" The detective next to him asked sharply, "We don't seem to be able to find any relevant clues from your diary, let alone I don't think it's wrong for you to take the risk to go to the East District." Nothing."

"Can I take this as an accusation against me?" Elena suppressed her discomfort and asked reluctantly, "Do you think I must have concealed something, and I colluded with someone to kill a thief? Because of my personal emotions?"

"With all due respect," said Holmes gravely, "Inspector, what you say amounts to accusing Miss Molson of withholding crucial information for personal reasons."

"What are you doing, Grayson?" asked Inspector Lestrade, who knew Holmes well.

"No, I didn't mean that." Seeing Inspector Lestrade approaching, the person who took the notes for Elena had no choice but to reply a little embarrassingly, "If the tone is too strong, please forgive me. It is inevitable that Scotland Yard is a bit of an occupational disease-you can go when you are done writing."

Elena spread her hand towards the inspector, "What about my diary?"

Inspector Grayson wanted to say something, but Lestrade pressed his shoulders.

"I'll return it to you after the procedure is over in a few days, Miss Molson," Lestrade replied, smiling at her kindly. "The part of the diary that involves words should be listed as the same Make a small copy of the evidence and file it, and I will ask Holmes to bring it back to you later. But your sketch really lives up to its reputation, it is very beautiful, miss."

Elena pursed her lips and accepted the compliment.

She followed Holmes out of the small interrogation room and back into the spacious exterior, followed by Lestrade.

"Please don't pay attention to him, Miss Molson," Lestrade said a little awkwardly, "because someone secretly helped, the previous case was solved quickly, I got the limelight, and then Gregson kept It's this attitude—trying to find something to overwhelm me, maybe a little..."

The police badge on Lestrade's shoulder appeared to be new and shiny.

"You have been promoted, Inspector," Elena looked at him, "So it seems that you haven't made that mysterious person public?"

The detective named Lestrade looked even more embarrassed, "Because it would affect the credibility of the Metropolitan Police Department, we did not inform the media of this matter."

Holmes twitched the corners of his mouth, while Elena let out an "oh" and got into the car.

"Please don't pay attention to this." As if remembering something, she pointed her head and said to Holmes, who seemed to be about to send her to the office, "I don't need company, Mr. Holmes, I am not as weak as you imagine. Now I go to the office Go there, you stay here, I think you are more interested in the case than in any building."

Then Elena asked the coachman to drive the carriage without waiting for Holmes' answer, and drove to the center of London.

Only left him standing where he was, looking thoughtfully at the back of the carriage leaving.

It was rare for Mr. Brutt to show off his fashionable clothes. Instead, he was wearing a neat and clean shirt and sat in his seat in an orderly manner.

He poked the rubber with a compasses boredly, trying to pass the time.

He specially asked for a fireplace to be lit in the room. He pretended that the countess was a lady, she was weak and needed warmth, and it was a little extravagant. Anyway, the coal fee was nothing compared to the liquidated damages.

In fact, he wanted to take off his coat and show off his figure a little in front of the countess.

But it was really a miscalculation.

Who would have thought that the Countess did not come to work today.

This simply greatly discouraged Mr. Brut Jr.'s enthusiasm.

He sighed deeply, looking at Hardy next to him, he didn't like it.

That guy who huddled in his place neatly, shouldn't be too obtrusive!

Waiting and waiting but no one came. Thinking about the party with his friends, Mr. Brutt became cruel and decided that if the Countess did not come again in the afternoon, he would devote this useless wasted time to a meaningful party. pleasure.

Although it is really wonderful to be next to a rich woman, having dinner together is also very interesting!

Not to mention his bombast in front of his friends, which is much more fun.

The pointer ticked, and it was two o'clock in the afternoon.

Mr. Brut Jr. sorted out the things on the table resignedly, and went out with his bag in his arms.

But it just happened to bump into Elena who just got off the carriage.

Little Mr. Brut almost felt that it was God's determination to retain him to be with the rich woman.

"Countess, you are here," he asked enthusiastically, "Did something happen today?"

Elena glanced at him in surprise, did she come to inquire about the news?

"It's nothing, I lost something and reported it," Elena said simply.

Well, here's your chance!

It's a technique he's learned from friends, and if something unexpected happens, be the first to comfort him.

"Oh, that's unfortunate," sighed Mr. Brutt Jr., "but don't worry, ma'am, what have you lost? Whatever it is, I dare say I can get the same thing, just tell me it name, I will find it for you again."

Elena watched helplessly as he blocked the door carelessly, preventing her from entering at all.

"I'm afraid you can't buy it," she said. "That's my diary, and I don't think any shop will sell my diary. May I go in, Mr. Brutt?"

Little Mr. Brut smiled awkwardly and made way out of the passage.

"It's something very important, isn't it!" he said indignantly. "Don't let me catch the thief, or I'll show him what shame is! You're the one who stole the theft, the one at Scotland Yard." Helping the rice bucket is really quite useless."

Then he followed Elena into the room, and asked casually, "Didn't your fiancé accompany you for such a terrible thing?"

Although the first trick is useless, there is a second trick.It is quite remiss to imply her inadvertently, ask her if there is a close lover by her side, and imply that her lover is not with her at this time.

"I don't have a fiancé, and I don't have a lover," Elena said, "not to mention that I don't need company. Please, Mr. Brutt, please stop asking me about my personal affairs. Have you finished your work yesterday?" ?”

"Ah, this," said Mr. Brut Jr. "yes, it's on the table. But I thought you might want a cup of tea first?"

He endured the pain in his heart and offered his snacks during work, "Some dried fruit and some dried meat. I think you look bad, and it looks like you haven't eaten much. Is it because lunch doesn't suit your appetite?"

"It's okay." Elena took the dried fruit with a calm expression, "Thank you for your stuff, I'll accept it."

She was too lazy to go into detail about whether she had eaten at noon, and she didn't want to eat something sweet and greasy, so she reluctantly accepted it just to see Mr. Brut's face.

"If there's nothing else, I'm going out?" said Mr. Brutt Jr.

After getting Elena's affirmative answer, Mr. Brut Jr. took two steps, and looked back at Elena.

Then he showed a wry expression.

"There's a party tonight," said Mr. Brutt Jr. "I'm invited too, and I don't know if you know that—"

He looked a bit hesitant, as if he wasn't sure he could impress Elena, "I can't find a partner, if you would?"

"Sorry, I'm not very interested in proms," Elena flatly refused, "I'm not very good at dancing either."

Not to mention that she still has a T-square hidden under her skirt, and if it falls out in a jump, it will be bad.

"But..." Mr. Brutt wanted to say something, but was interrupted by Hardy who broke in suddenly.

"Miss Molson, that's it." Hardy hurried towards the desk with a document in his hand, "I'm very sorry, but I plan to resign."

Little Mr. Brut looked extremely surprised, but Elena didn't seem to be overly emotional.

She just clasped her hands and calmly asked why Hardy suddenly wanted to leave.

"What's the reason, Mr. Hardy?" Elena asked mildly, "The architectural firm is short of people recently, but you are leaving now, at least you have to explain the reason."

He looked hesitant, as if he had something to hide.

Wiping his face, Hardy turned to say, "My book is out of stock suddenly, just today-I think I can write full-time."

He received a temporary notification from the publisher today, and when he learned of this, he felt as unreal as if he had won a million dollar prize.

It is his dream to return to his hometown and write books full-time. When the dream comes true, he is a little worried that if he resigns, he will be too busy.After all, there was already a shortage of people at this point in time, and his departure made things worse.

"Ah," Elena said in surprise, "Then congratulations, Mr. Hardy."

Unexpectedly, this Mr. Hardy realized his wish of becoming famous and returning to his hometown before he realized it.

She smiled and asked calmly, "If that's the case, do you have any recommendations for someone to take your place?"

Seeing Hardy who became nervous again for a moment, Elena smiled broadly.

"Please don't be nervous, Mr. Hardy," she said. "It doesn't matter if you don't have one. It's just to look for another one in the newspaper. You can't find it in such a big London?"

Besides, she can complete these tasks by herself, but it's just a little slower.

After comforting Hardy, Elena got up and went outside to get the lunch box delivered by Mrs. Hudson from the coachman, ignoring the little Mr. Brutt who had a strange expression beside him.

After she finished today's work and prepared the things needed to meet her client, Miss Georgiana Darcy tomorrow, she got up and planned to go home for dinner.

By the way, you can also find a professional to solve the problem about the box.

If she hadn't woken up inexplicably today, which really made her a little panicked, and she was a little worried that the leak of her mother's diary would affect her reputation, she might not have delayed her trip to the East District for so long.

Elena doesn't like deciphering, she only likes to conceive the architectural framework, plan the functional division, and design the landscape structure.

She thought quite optimistically, since her neighbor happened to be a professional counterpart, wouldn't it be good to save this time and do something else?