Bad days as neighbors with Sherlock Holmes

"Shipyard?" Lestrade asked subconsciously, "What shipyard?"

He shook his head, "Miss Molson was kidnapped, we don't know who did it for the time being. Have you ever had a conflict with the shipyard because of something, so they took the risk of kidnapping Miss Molson?" ?”

To be honest, Lestrade didn't believe the earl's mention of the shipyard.

He mainly did not feel that the shipyard had such action and confidence.

If that's the case... Lestrade thought for a moment.

What kind of ship must be built then?A ship of the British Royal Fleet?Fighting Spain or Portugal?

He said the words unconsciously.

"I don't know, I just think it's them," the earl shook his head and put down the biscuit. "I knew they were very confident. They wanted to monopolize."

But no matter who it is, the disappearance of the daughter is the top priority.

"Is it possible that it was for money?" the count asked, "Our family is still very rich. Did the kidnappers ask for the amount?"

"Actually, only one person was kidnapped," Lestrade said with a wry smile. "Does Miss Molson have a lover?"

Could it be that the stubborn Earl obstructed their love and led to their elopement?

"No, no," the count denied quite confidently, "it should be pure kidnapping."

He pulled a book from the shelf, turned it upside down, looked at it twice, and threw it aside.

This was an address Yvette had told him to find a big man who had once owed her a favor.

"I know someone who can find them. I will take you to him," said the Count.

He wasn't talking about Uncle Ben.

On the other side, Mycroft flicked a stack of papers in his hand.

"What do you think?" He asked the person beside him, "This is a gesture of goodwill."

Mycroft did not accompany Sherlock to track down Elena's whereabouts.

He knew who the person who took her was, he was not worried about her safety, and he was not surprised that the person from France would do so.

In fact, since that "Eric" entered the country, someone has been secretly observing his movements.

But there are always more important things...

What Eileen found was exactly the evidence of the wrong decision made by his predecessor. Such a big thing is enough for that guy to become notorious after publicizing it.

This kind of thing was able to get into his hands smoothly, and it happened to be this time, so it was undoubtedly that the behind-the-scenes was showing favor to him through this method.

Perhaps he also hoped that he would not intervene, and by the way, take care of his younger brother, and also do not intervene if he is held back.

It's a good idea, the utopia in the dream.

He pondered for a moment, then asked again, "What do you think?"

"I don't know, my lord," the subordinate replied with trepidation, "You..."

He tentatively asked, "Why don't you promise him?"

"No," Mycroft laughed instead, "We don't need to agree to this kind of thing."

He threw the evidence in his hand on the table, "I know what he wants, but I just do it the other way around."

Picking up the coat and gloves from the chair, Mycroft's eyes showed a trace of coldness.

"He is very good at reading people's hearts," he said lightly, "It's a pity he found the wrong person."

Just as Mycroft was walking out slowly, the sound of pulling the trigger sounded behind him.

Except for a click, nothing happened.

The subordinates kept trying, almost in fear, but the gun seemed to be broken, and there was no response.

He almost shook his hands to remove the bullet/clip from the gun.

Sure enough, it was empty inside.

"Oh," Mycroft turned back with a smile, "don't be in such a hurry."

He lightly took out a full magazine/clip from his pocket, and threw it away, "You're looking for this? Are you?"

Looking at the young man being pushed down, Mycroft shrugged.

"What a shame, it's a pity," he said indifferently, "Thank you for the gift from the people behind the scenes."

He happened to take this opportunity to clean up the people around him.

But this time, we have to get that lady back first, and give her a little convenience by the way.

It's been such a great help.

Fortunately, the person is not far from his place, so it is easy to find.

He casually put on his gloves, put on his overcoat, picked up the gentleman's staff and walked out.

At this time, the door on the other side rang.

It's so late, are you here to deliver urgent business?

Mycroft felt a little reluctant at the thought.

He leaned against the door and listened, and it seemed that they were two middle-aged men with upper-middle status who were looking for something to do with him.

this point?Is it urgent again?

Mycroft opened the door somewhat unexpectedly.

Standing outside the door was an embarrassed Lestrade and Miss Molson's father, Earl Molson.

"Mycroft Holmes?" the earl asked in a deep voice.

In fact, he didn't know what was going on in his mind, and it went smoothly all the way in, but this was the first time he came here to find someone to do something like this.

But for my daughter, it's worth it, it's worth it!

Take courage, you can do it!

"Well, what's the matter, Lord Molson?" asked Mycroft.

He thought that these two people were busy looking for someone, so why did they appear here?

Don't show cowardice!Yvette said that you have to put on airs to find this person, otherwise he won't be serious.

"My wife helped you once ten years ago, and you said that you would repay the favor in the future," the earl said with a cold face. "Now, it's time to use it. My daughter was kidnapped."

Mycroft laughed instead.

"It seems that my favor will be owed for a while. Follow me, Earl Molson," he greeted, "Oh, and the inspector, come together. They are right below."

Cold sewers.

The two sides confront each other.

As soon as the leader's words came out, Eric subconsciously stood in front of Elena.

His mask had returned to his face at some point, facing the moonlight leaking from above, it revealed a bit of gloom.

"Moriarty," Eric spat out a name.

"Fear, huh?" The old man straightened up, and it was only then that people realized that his aging and rickets were just appearances.

With just one movement, the air of twilight gradually dissipated from his body, revealing a bit of carelessness.

"No," Eric snorted coldly, "it's just contempt."

Elena didn't understand at all, but she caught a key message.

"So, you are my uncle?" She raised her face and asked.

There was no curiosity or fear in his eyes, let alone inferiority complex.

It was a kind of scrutiny and evaluation, and Moriarty couldn't think of how to describe this look.

If Elena knew what he was thinking, she would definitely tell him that it was up for grabs.

To put it more simply, looking at him is like looking at pork, and finding out how many catties it weighs.

"Yes," said Moriarty, and opened his hand to Elena, "Elena, my dear niece, I have been waiting for you for a long time. Come quickly, let me take a good look at you."

He used a tone that was a little too sticky for him.

"I don't," Elena replied succinctly.

He didn't even give the certificate, and he recognized relatives casually. Could it be that he came to inherit her future inheritance?

Then what greeted her was the gun slowly raised behind Moriarty.

"I'll give you a chance," Moriarty said, "you can say it again."

"All the answers are one word, no," Elena replied.

"Eileen, aren't you worried about your life?" Moriarty asked, "What about the person next to you?"

He said slowly, "Your father, the housekeeper, your two neighbors...what about their lives?"

"I'm not intimidated," Elena shrugged. "If you're going all out just to take my life, then you might as well just mix belladonna in my meal, wouldn't you?"

She yawned, "That's much simpler. Stop talking nonsense, what do you want?"

At this moment, Moriarty laughed.

"There is still a bit of my shadow," he smiled and praised his left and right subordinates.

Elena coughed.

She felt that there was something wrong with this person's brain, and maybe there were not enough things.

"Your mother once left you a treasure," Moriarty said softly after taking a few steps closer to her, "It's the one she entrusted you to carry with you and never took it, and she stole it from you." Treasure. Now it's time to return it to its rightful owner—give it to me."

It turned out to be for something like that.

"I don't know." Elena pretended to be nonchalant, "Please explain in more detail."

"Should be a trinket," Moriarty said.

He thought for a while, "Maybe it's close-fitting. Your mother told you that it's very cherished."

Elena thought for a while, "I probably have an idea."

At this moment, Elena bent the corners of her lips, and they looked a little softer again.

"It's a secret," she whispered, "and I don't want them to hear."

As Moriarty moved closer, the cold barrel was aimed at him.

This is by no means a safe distance.

"I have always had a question," Elena asked calmly, "Why do you think that I am a good boy and will listen to you obediently?"

She held the gun and aimed it steadily at Moriarty, but saw Uncle Ben approaching and gesturing to her to stop.

Although the muzzle of the dark gun was aimed at Moriarty's eyes, he was not nervous at all.

"Come on," he unhurriedly withdrew his hugging posture, and said jokingly, "shoot."

Elena really hesitated as he thought.

She lowered the gun slowly, even stopping Eric beside her.

Moriarty could clearly see the wavering in Elena's eyes.

"Don't you dare?" Moriarty approached Elena, "You and your mother are so similar. They are exactly the same weak, emotional, pathetic—"

He let out a cry, "You are a bit like your father, pitifully stupid."

Elena thought, if her father was here, maybe she would bite him on the spot.

But this is not the point.

The point is, this man named Moriarty seems a bit weird.

He kept saying that he was her uncle, but he didn't care about the blood relationship at all. His attitude towards his mother was mixed with disgust. He came for the treasure, but she easily diverted his attention to another topic...

But it all seemed to irritate her.

wanted her to shoot.

why?

"So, what are you looking for me for?" Elena changed the subject and asked him casually, "Aside from venting my emotions with me, is there anything else? Apart from what you have in hand, there is nothing else." Is it done?"

Complain about how bad her mother is?

Moriarty was a little surprised by her attitude, but the subordinates behind her seemed a little too calm, and the calm seemed a little too much.

Elena's confidence also seemed a bit too much.

He looked back subconsciously.

Sure enough, the two of them fell to the ground.

And his old acquaintance, Weston Ben, was pointing straight at him with his gun.

And whistled.

"Seeing is believing," said Uncle Ben coldly, before throwing the gun to Eric. "You look beyond my expectations, Moriarty."

Moriarty shrugged, still showing no fear, "You're about the same, old guy."

He waved his hand and said calmly, "Come on, shoot!"

Uncle Ben sneered, he will not be merciful.

He pulled the trigger without hesitation.

The accident happened again.

A delicate rose jumped out from the muzzle of the gun, which seemed to have a little dewy luster.

He looked at Eric and saw the same with Eric's gun.

"A little surprise," Moriarty said with a laugh.

He swiftly avoided the joint attack of Uncle Ben and Eric, and rolled into the hidden passage.

Uncle Ben stepped forward and pulled it, but he didn't get it open.He slapped the wall weakly twice.

"It's useless." Eric picked up the gun on the ground and fiddled with it. "It should be a one-time passage. I tried this, and it will be destroyed if someone enters."

Uncle Ben cursed.

"Can't we find an exit based on this?" He said unwillingly.

"No," Eric said coldly, "let's go, it's time to go out."

The two looked at Elena, but found that she seemed to be in a wrong state.

Elena stood aside in a daze, staring blankly at the closed secret passage.

Just now, the moment the door was about to close, Elena met Moriarty's gaze.

"I'm waiting for you," Moriarty said silently, staring into her eyes, "Come on."

The author has something to say: Moriarty: I am an old man, and you are amazing.

Moriarty: Haha, I'm faking it.

Moriarty was almost a round older than Sherlock Holmes in the original book

The setting here is a middle-aged person with a childlike innocence (not)

QAQ will be repaired tomorrow, I feel uncomfortable today, the writing is not quite right