Bad days as neighbors with Sherlock Holmes

Elena froze for a moment.

"Am I very similar to him?" She asked, feeling inappropriate, and added, "I mean, except for the seriousness of work?"

She knew that Sherlock was often accused by Dr. Watson of being a "workaholic" because of staying up late and working without sleep.

If it's about how focused the two are on their work, then it's pretty similar.

It's just that one person is buried in the construction business, and the other is rooted in consulting detectives.

Mycroft leaned back, looking at her with a slight smile.

In his characteristic lazy tone, he said slowly, "You know it in your heart, don't you?"

Elena blinked.

She watched Mycroft waving to her as a farewell, then met Sherlock who was rushing back, said a few words in a low voice, and left without looking back.

That back figure seemed to contain more things, but Eileen couldn't see more things at the moment, she just vaguely felt something surging in the shadows.

"What are you thinking?" Sherlock asked suddenly, standing beside her.

Elena looked back at him.

"Thinking of your brother," she replied calmly, "he's such a mystery."

Hearing this, Sherlock seemed to laugh a little.

His brows and eyes were stretched, and he looked much gentler than usual, with a bit of youthful vigor that never faded away.

"He is usually very busy," he said slowly, "Many things in the government require him to adjust, transfer, and record."

"No wonder," Elena said thoughtfully, "I think his tone of voice seems a bit special."

"You mean, his ability to read people's hearts?" Sherlock laughed, "I thought you were used to it. Of course, my brother is indeed more direct in his words. To be honest, he is much smarter than me, but He'd rather be lying in a chair than running around checking his conclusions—"

"Even if others don't believe what he said?" Elena asked curiously.

Sherlock nodded.

"Yes," he said, "even if people don't believe what he says."

"That's really amazing," Elena said with a smile, "but of course, what's even better is that after he's gone, there's only one Mr. Holmes left in front of me. At last, there's no need to call me wrong."

Hearing this, Sherlock slowly curled the corners of his lips.

But at this moment, Elena's attention has completely gone away.

This cannot be blamed on her, Elena is not considered a student who often distracted, but the thing that appeared in front of her is really too special.

She looked at the little thing in front of her almost in surprise, and couldn't help reaching out to touch it.

The tiny firefly just happened to land on her finger, flapped its wings, and the little lamp on its tail lit up.

The dangling fireflies landed on Elena's fingertips, as if she held up a small but bright moon.

Elena let out a soft "wow" again, carefully lifted it up, and showed it to Sherlock.

"It's rare," she said softly, "I haven't seen a firefly for a long time."

Modern reinforced concrete covers most of the ground, and fireflies have almost disappeared in the small green spaces between high-rise buildings.

In the past, her life and work burdens were quite heavy, and she was overwhelmed. She was immersed in work, and she didn't have much time and energy for vacations.

After coming here, I was busy with my work, or my career, and I spent all my time all night and all night. I didn't even have time to cook, let alone take a leisurely walk like this.

Sherlock didn't pay much attention to the firefly, but saw her calm and gentle eyes, holding something in her hand and showing it to him as if offering a treasure, with a bit of innocence and excitement.

The night wind blew around Elena's ears, pulling up her slightly curly hair.

"Yeah," he sighed softly, "it's a miracle."

The firefly waved its wings again, and just like that, it left lightly and comfortably under the gaze of the two.

The next day, Elena got up quite excitedly, and after washing up, she picked out some things to bring with her.

Her father had given her quite a few things yesterday, and she happened to take some with her to Norwood.

Yes, since there are already two Sherlock Holmes, she doesn't intend to mess with them there.

She planned to use the count's excuse to say that she was going to visit and appease the fragile housekeeper.

By the way, see if there is anything that can be said.

Therefore, not only did she not refuse little Brut to come with her today, but she also called Lydia, hoping that they would come in handy.

After a few people made up their minds, they planned to separate from the Holmes brothers and Watson as soon as they got off the carriage.

"To be honest," Little Brutt sat in the carriage dazedly, "I thought you would check the accounts with Big Mr. Holmes, Miss Molson."

He has always felt that the countess he is currently working for seems to never let go of any job.

"No," Elena shook her head, "I will only do what I can do. Professional strength must be used in what they are good at. I don't think it will be effective to force myself to check the accounts."

"But you did well the first few times?" asked Brut Jr. "At least you see what's wrong."

He covered his mouth, his face turned pale, "Oops, I'm a little carriage-sick—"

Elena shrugged, "I'm just dabbling. What's more, I don't doubt Mr. Holmes' ability."

She just mentioned it roughly yesterday, and that Mr. Mycroft nodded his head quite clearly, let alone looking through the lists and credentials still kept in the safe today.

Lydia rolled her eyes and said bluntly to little Brutt, "Aren't you stupid? People who are good at what they do should do what they do. If you are asked to design buildings, it will be a waste of effort. That's the reason."

Little Brut choked on her.

He immediately yelled unconvinced, "I—"

"Yes, yes, you are the most pitiful, I was wrong, I'm sorry," Lydia apologized bluntly, "It's too hard for you."

She worked with this little Mr. Brut these days, and gradually figured out a way to deal with him.

Doing the opposite, telling the truth directly is enough to make people get stuck.

The two started arguing with each other, while Elena, who was sitting on the side watching the children's quarrel, was somewhat absent-minded.

She rubbed the initials engraved on the bottom of the necklace, a little distracted.

The carving on the restaurant's door and her necklace seemed to be made by the same person.

And those imitation necklaces were also from him.

In this way, there seems to be some eyebrows.

However, it is said that Elena's necklace was custom-made by her mother herself. Usually, this carpenter is just doing his own work.Why did he take those fake necklaces?

When Elena went in, she didn't see Lestrade.

Instead, his guards stood at the door dutifully, driving away the children gathered nearby.

Although it was a visit, Elena wore a rare elegant outfit that looked very unsuitable for work. At first glance, she looked like a noble lady with a lot of money and noble temperament.

So there was no one to stop her, she took the two of them, and went in calmly.

I ran into a solemn housekeeper wearing a black veil head on.

Although she was a little afraid of Elena's aura and saluted, she squinted her eyes rather unkindly, looking at Elena.

Elena nodded, "You are Mrs. Lexington, the housekeeper of this house?"

The housekeeper nodded.

"Yes," she asked, "are you..."

"This is Miss Molson," Little Brutt said quickly, "I'm Hank Brutt, and the one next to me is Miss Lydia Bennett."

He continued to answer, "Miss's father, Earl Molson, has an old friend with your host, Mr. Oldecke. Hearing this sad incident, he came to visit and planned to visit his relatives and friends."

"Mr. Oldecke has no friends or relatives," said the housekeeper. "He was alone all the time."

She glanced at a few people, "I'm afraid everyone came to the wrong place."

Elena raised her hand.

"Ah, that's really sad," said Little Brut at once knowingly, "but I don't think we've come to the wrong place—Miss Molson thinks we should probably put things down?"

He said implicitly, "After all, I think you also need a little comfort."

"No, I just hope that no one will disturb the master's long sleep," the housekeeper said bluntly.

The three looked at each other.

The housekeeper didn't seem particularly coaxable.

"I want to see Mr. Oldek's residence," Elena said, "just walk around, I won't stay longer - my father often warns me to observe the artistic attainments of my predecessors with humility, this time In addition to wanting to condolences to his relatives and friends, there is still a little selfishness."

"Yes," echoed Lydia, "I really hope to see such an exquisite building!"

She folded her hands and looked at the housekeeper, begging coquettishly, "Please, Mrs. Luxington—"

After Lydia spoke, it seemed that the housekeeper's expression softened a little.

"Okay, I'll take you up," she said still a little stiffly, but much softer than at the beginning, "Turn around a bit and come out."

After they said hello, they followed the housekeeper to the back.

"The backyard is where the fire is," said the housekeeper. "I didn't know it was until I heard the fire alarm. Well, I didn't expect such a disaster."

"Yeah, how sad," echoed Brutt Jr. "Who would have thought it would have happened."

He said regretfully, "Mr. Oldacre was such an outstanding architect during his lifetime. He was kind and outstanding, but the sky did not follow his wishes. What a pity. He will rest in peace in the kingdom of heaven, and the Lord will bless him."

The housekeeper glanced at him.

Little Brut looked back with more sincere eyes.

"I'm a little puzzled," Elena interjected at this moment, "Are there no fire facilities around here?"

She pointed to the vicinity and asked suspiciously, "There is no tool directly used to put out the fire? As an architect, Mr. Oldek shouldn't make such a mistake, right?"

"When the fire alarm sounded, the fire was already very large," the housekeeper explained dryly. "I was sleeping soundly at the time. We didn't expect such a disaster to happen."

Elena shook her head.

What she actually wanted to ask was why the fire was not discovered in the first place.

In fact, this place is not far from her bedroom that the housekeeper just mentioned. According to the wind direction here, if there is a fire, you can smell the smoke and put out the fire.

On the contrary, not only did the housekeeper not smell the smell, but there were no fire extinguishing facilities nearby, and she did not try to put out the fire herself.

It's like creating such a scene, removing all the fire prevention tools, and waiting for the firefighters to come and put out the fire.

At this time, little Brutt saw the abnormality with sharp eyes.

At the top of the house, in what appeared to be a window, the curtain moved.

"It's all the fault of that nasty vicious criminal!" Little Brutt rolled his eyes, pretending to be heartbroken, "It's definitely not the fault of Mr. Oldecke who didn't take precautions! Who would have thought that such a thing would happen later? ? People who are knocked out can't help themselves to put out the fire."

The author has something to say: Little Brut: May Mr. Oldek rest in peace.

Oldek: ?Who are you cursing? ?

These two days I've been seriously following the relationship line orz

Mycroft's lazy characteristics come from Sherlock's description of Mycroft in "Sherlock Holmes"

感谢在2020-09-0620:59:30~2020-09-0721:09:20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 irrigation nutrient solution: A Zheng 1 bottle;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!