Bad days as neighbors with Sherlock Holmes

For a moment, all three looked at Holmes in unison.

"I am," Lydia asked in a bad tone, "what's the matter?"

She seemed to have completely forgotten that she was not the owner of the place, and instead acted arrogantly, "If you have nothing to do, please leave, Miss Molson and I have something to talk about."

"No, not at all," said Watson. "We are looking for Miss Elena. Miss Elena, please..."

"You go back first, Watson," interrupted Holmes. "The client seems anxious, and he needs to be accompanied—"

"I'm the one who came first!" Lydia said impatiently, "What's the matter, you can talk about it after I finish. Do you understand that first come first?"

She put the document on the table with a snap, "I'm here this time to discuss something important with Miss Molson."

Elena ignored her, but instead looked at Little Brutt.

"I'll go down for a while, and I'll be back later," she said, "If you're tired, take a rest, it's hard work."

"But you should first—" Lydia stomped her feet in dissatisfaction, "I was the one who came first."

Her slightly curly hair bounced and jumped with the movements, and against her young and beautiful face, she showed a bit of innocence.

"An uninvited person, with all due respect, is not a serious guest," Elena glanced at her indifferently, "As for you, miss, you'd better know how to behave, otherwise I don't mind teaching you and me What are you talking about. She's bothering you too, little Brutt."

Then she took her small bag and her notebook.

"Let's go," Elena looked at Holmes, "You said this matter is urgent."

Holmes led her downstairs. "Indeed, he told me as soon as he came that he was involved in a murder."

"Murder?" Elena frowned.

Walking down the stairs that were too high, she lifted her too long skirt slightly, "About the building?"

"Yes, he was accused of murdering the retired architect who lived in Lower Norwood," he said very quickly, and pushed open the door by the way.

Standing in front of him was a young man with a pale face and disheveled clothes. He was holding a stack of documents and was still panting heavily.

Seeing Holmes coming, he greeted him as if seeing a savior, "Mr. Holmes—"

"This is my new client, Mr. McFarlane, a lawyer," Holmes introduced. "This is my neighbor, Miss Molson, a female architect. I ask her to come and listen. Are there any clues that can be observed in this case?"

"Oh, hello," the young man seemed a little surprised, and smiled reluctantly, "Nice to meet you, Miss."

When he had finished, he turned to Holmes. "I beg you, Mr. Holmes, to trust me and accept my commission. I have never done it. I knew nothing about it until I was in the train. On my way to my law firm in London, I saw the newspaper—”

His voice is clear and clear, with a bit of a lawyer's unique sense of chewing on words, and he speaks quite methodically.

Holmes stood by the window, motioning for him to continue, while observing the movement downstairs.

Elena took the newspaper and quickly browsed it.

It briefly printed an incident about a fire in a small lumberyard in the backyard of a certain residence in Lower Norwood. Not only did the hut where the timber was piled up be burned down, but a charred corpse was also found inside. It was suspected that the deceased was the owner of the house. The famous construction engineer Jonas Oldek.

The deceased died of a severe blow to the head, and a cane was left at the scene, which happened to belong to the present client, Mr. MacFarlane, who happened to be there last night.

Elena frowned.

As an architect, even if there is a fire in the backyard, you should set up a water tank close enough for disaster relief, or near the water, so that the fire can be extinguished in time.

Designing fire exits and fire-fighting equipment is not a necessary choice for architects, but as a famous architect, he must find that there is something missing in the layout of his home.

Had it never occurred to him that his house might be on fire?

But now is not the time to talk about this. Although it is strange, if there is any temporary reason, there will inevitably be omissions.

Elena turned her pen, recalling the terrain of Norwood.

Even if there is no systematic sorting out of the fire safety of buildings in this era, it is not unusual for the fire to not be extinguished until the end of the fire, but to be resolved after the firefighters arrive.

Downstairs came the sound of hoofbeats, and then the neighing of a reined horse.

Elena put the newspaper back on the table, and saw Mr. McFarlane sigh nervously, his lips were almost trembling.

Then there was a crisp knock on the door.

Mr. MacFarlane took a deep breath and looked at Holmes.

"Mr. Holmes—" he begged.

Holmes raised his hand and lowered it a little, signaling him not to speak yet.

Since the door was locked in time when Elena came in, people outside couldn't open it all at once.

The knock on the door hastened again.

Watson wanted to open the door, but Elena stopped him.

She put the notebook on the small table supported by the slender legs, stood up, and stepped forward to open the door.

Lestrade, who was pacing anxiously outside the door, grabbed his gloves and knocked on the door vigorously again.

The door creaked and opened.

"Holmes," said Lestrade in a low voice, "I have to—"

He wanted to warn Holmes about leaving the suspect behind without authorization, but he didn't expect that it was Elena who came to open the door, so he got stuck.

"Miss Molson?" Lestrade's tone softened immediately.

"Come in, Inspector Lestrade." Elena directly opened the door, motioning for Lestrade to go in. "We happen to be waiting for you."

Then sat back on the chair.

Lestrade didn't realize what happened for a moment.Could it be that this young lady has encountered new troubles?

He froze for a moment, and then the men beside him came forward.

"McFarlane," the men whispered.

Oh yes, he's here to catch people.

Lestrade had no time to think about it for a moment, he walked into the door with his hat on, waved back, and motioned for his subordinates to come in as well.

For a while, this small and messy living room seemed a little crowded with so many people coming in.

But Lestrade didn't have any other ideas, anyway, he caught people and left.

When he walked straight in with his cane, he saw the suspect, John Hector McFarlane, sitting on the side of the window. Although he was very uncomfortable, he still tried his best to keep smiling.

Lestrade looked at Elena in a daze.

He knew that there was a capable person beside this lady, who was always eloquent. Last time, he even provoked the suspect's anger repeatedly to divert attention and delay time.

Could it be that the old trick was repeated this time to educate the criminal and make him a new man?

No wonder he had to lock the door and let him wait for a while.

Holmes, on the other hand, stepped in front of Lestrade in three steps and two steps.

He said aloud, "Why, Inspector Lestrade—"

Lestrade took off his hat a little helplessly and put it in front of him.

"Mr. Holmes?" he echoed, turning to the others. "Dr. Watson? Mr. John MacFarlane?"

McFarland nodded subconsciously: "Yes, it's me."

Then little Brooke was not seen.

He looked around, but still couldn't see it.

"And me," Elena added during his pause.

"Oh, yes, yes," Lestrade nodded, "Why don't you see Mr. Hank Brutt?"

Was his guess wrong?

"He's upstairs," Elena said. "Do you have anything to do with him? Shall I call him down?"

Oh, it looks like I finished my education and went back upstairs to rest.

"No, no, nothing," said Lestrade, "I'm just a little surprised."

He looked at McFarlane again, and walked towards him quickly, "Then I am arresting you in the name of deliberately murdering the architect Jonas Oldeker. You should have no objection, Mr. McFarlane?"

McFarland subconsciously wanted to open his mouth, but Holmes stopped him.

"No, wait a minute," Holmes quickly stood beside the two, "you only need to wait another half an hour to an hour—"

"What?" Lestrade asked subconsciously, "Haven't you educated him enough?"

Are they going to do some more enlightenment to make McFarlane more convincing?

"What?" McFarlane asked in confusion, "What education?"

Lestrade looked at the faces of several people, and finally realized that he seemed to have made a mistake.

"Okay," Lestrade put his hat on his other hand, "tell me first, why did you lock the door?"

"I took it with me," Elena said bluntly, "it's just my hand."

She looked at Lestrade. "Do you think I'm harboring criminals, Inspector Lestrade?"

This sentence is quite a harsh accusation.

Who would dare to say that a rich and well-connected countess, whose father is not only alive, but also extremely talented, would do something that deliberately harbors criminals?

"Oh, nothing," Lestrade waved his hand, "I'm just asking casually. But this Mr. McFarlane, we have to take it away."

He took the handcuffs out of his pocket again, "I am now officially—"

"Excuse me, Lestrade," said Holmes. "May I have a moment?"

He looked at his watch, "It doesn't delay your business, just a little time, I want to hear what this Mr. McFarlane has to say."

"Thank you, but I think the facts are clear enough, Holmes," said Lestrade, "that I shall now—"

"If you don't mind," Little Brut walked in with Lydia swaggeringly, "I also want to hear the story of this gentleman, Inspector."

He walked over to Elena and stood still.

Lestrade sighed.

"Well, Holmes," he had to say, "I will give you half an hour because of the selfless service you and your friends have given to Scotland Yard."

The corners of Holmes' lips raised, and just as he was about to walk to the door and close it, he saw the guard standing at the door forcefully shut the door, while he himself stood by the door and looked around warily.

Lestrade quickly took out the notebook from his pocket, raised his eyebrows and looked at Holmes.

Of course he was going to record it here.

Who knew what Holmes would say to MacFarlane in private?It would undoubtedly be a disgrace to Scotland Yard if he were acquitted.

"Oh," said little Brutt again at this moment, "what, Inspector Lestrade thinks we will cover up this criminal?"

He sighed, "How could we do this? You make me so sad, Inspector Lestrade. How many innocent people are you speculating like this. I will never do good deeds again."

He looked at Elena, and Elena nodded cooperatively, then looked at Lestrade with a condemning look.

"No, I don't mean that," said Lestrade hastily. "You know, Mr. Brutt, I'm just going through the necessary procedures—"

He used to see how little Brutt looked, but now once this person stood on the opposite side of him, and there was someone behind him to support him, he couldn't help gnashing his teeth, hoping that he would shut up quickly.

"I understand, serving the public," Brut Jr. took a breath, "The main reason is that we feel that some key points in this case have not been cleared up, and it may be a bit premature to draw conclusions now."

"Not to mention, you also know that Dr. Watson's detective collections serialized in newspapers are quite famous, aren't they? If it ends like this, there is no story at all, which is not good for you, us or the readers. That's great," he tilted his head, "I know you're a big fan of Dr. Watson, aren't you?"

"Just for a little necessary study and research..." Lestrade said dryly.

Damn it!How did he know!

Elena sighed, and pressed little Brutt's shoulder, signaling him to stop.

"Well, you will sit here, Inspector Lestrade," she began, "and you will take Mr. Macfarlane away after we have heard his statement. As for the record, of course, you can take it."

Lestrade put away the notebook, "You are right."

He still took a step back.

Holmes sat down next to MacFarlane.

"You may proceed. But let me remind you, Mr. Macfarlane," said Holmes with emphasis, "that you yourself are a lawyer, and though you have not practiced this kind of defense, you should have common sense. You speak from now on." Every word you say may be used as evidence against you."

MacFarlane gave the general idea in a low voice.

All in all, it was the old architect who came to MacFarlane one morning and said that he couldn't get over his old lover and that he was a bachelor, so he planned to give the property to her only son, which was MacFarlane himself, and made an appointment with him in the evening. The young lawyer discusses the details.

Then McFarland not only believed this set of arguments, but actually went there at night, left his stick there when he left, and found that the newspaper had already said that he was going to be arrested the next day.

Elena pursed her lips, but said nothing.

She felt that there were many doubts in this case, especially the part about the architect, but these things had to be seen on the spot.

But before that, she had to do something.

"I think," Elena asked, "then the document in your hand is what the old architect gave you at that time?"

"Ah, yes," McFarlane replied a little surprised, "That's true."

He handed Holmes the will written by the old architect, then put the document on the table and showed it to Elena.

"Some properties, and then land deeds," he said, "some of them were built by himself, and some of them were old houses that he bought."

Eileen turned it carefully, the more she looked, the heavier her heart became.

The case looked solid, but if her suspicions were true, things might be getting serious.

"Is there a problem, Miss Molson?" asked Lestrade, "but I don't think it has anything to do with this case?"

"Maybe," Elena said, "Sorry, this may involve some other issues, and I may need to confirm further."

She tidied up the things on the table and handed them back to McFarlane, "That's all I need to know for now, thank you, Mr. McFarlane."

"What about you, Mr. Holmes?" Lestrade looked at Holmes who was still holding the will. "Do you have any questions?"

Holmes smiled and shook the will in his hand, "Not for the time being. Lestrade, if you wish, I would like to borrow this will for a period of time, about a day, and return it to you tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Oh, no, of course not," said Lestrade, "in that case, gentlemen, we shall take him away for the time being."

"Of course," Elena said.

She glanced again at the innocent-looking, pitiful young lawyer. Macfarlane was looking imploringly at Holmes.

Lestrade still didn't relax until McFarlane was brought into the four-wheeled police carriage.

He called his police officer, "I want to ask you something. Why did you let those two people in?"

The policeman swallowed nervously, "Inspector, who are you talking about?"

"That young man and that young lady," said Lestrade impatiently, "do you want me to teach you one more time, as the idlers are not allowed to enter?"

"But..." the policeman stammered for a long time, "That, that lady threatened me, if I don't let them in, she will yell at me to moleste her."

McFarlane on the side couldn't help laughing, which relieved his tension a little.

It also allowed him to escape from the fear a little bit, even if he was about to face the gallows.

Lestrade fell backwards slowly, resting his forehead on the carriage.

"My God," he lamented.

He had a bad premonition, and this premonition was experienced very quickly.

Because the next day, Elena walked into the gate of Scotland Yard with little Brutt and the woman who was present.

The author has something to say: Lestrade: Oops, the boss of the trouble came to the door with two troubles!run!

This chapter is threaded into "Norwood's Architect" in the Sherlock Holmes episodes

However, it is the magic change line, and it does not affect reading if you haven't read this article.

感谢在2020-09-0220:15:47~2020-09-0320:54:39期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angel of the irrigation nutrient solution: 30 bottles of Yuqi Chuanfengzao; today Dr Roman ate 10 bottles of strawberry cake; thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!