Bad days as neighbors with Sherlock Holmes

Grabbing a space all of a sudden, Elena subconsciously retracted her legs, almost knocking over the table.

She glanced at the empty plate with dissatisfaction, and turned her gaze to the "culprit" who took away the last cookie.

But he was amused by the complicated expression on his face.

Most likely because the biscuits were too sweet, Holmes put the violin on his knees and took a sip of tea calmly.

Elena hid her smile, and asked quite unexpectedly, "Where did you hear the news, Mr. Holmes?"

"Not hearing," said Holmes calmly, "but deduction."

He seemed to be in a low mood because he was tired of biscuits, and his fingertips made a few out-of-tune sounds on the strings.

"Inference?" Elena asked curiously, "How to infer?"

She pulled up her clothes and smelled it, "Could it be the smell of tobacco mixed with me? Although I don't smoke, I still know that men have different preferences for tobacco."

"Not only that. You went out with the letter at 08:30. Usually you don't get up so early, and your schedule was surprisingly regular last night. I didn't hear the sound of your chair dragging after nine o'clock. The second There must be an important appointment today," said Holmes, "and when you came back at noon, I noticed that the right rear part of your shoe was worn off, making it uneven when you walked, and the part of Basin Street was just being paved. .”

"That's right," Elena sighed in admiration, and then asked, "Then how did you know that I failed?"

"Your right pocket, Miss Molson," said Holmes, getting up and putting his violin back into the box. "If a person gets a job, she never looks at another job, but goes home. Celebrate. Looks like a career setback has given you another idea?"

Elena subconsciously looked at the right pocket of her coat, it was a newspaper she had seen by chance after being rejected.

At that time, it happened that it was a debate between the academic school and the new "Impressionists". After reading it, Elena bought it and planned to refer to it and submit a manuscript.

After all, if a newspaper would accept contributions from these people, wouldn't it also accept one about architecture?

"Mr. Holmes," Elena sighed, "your logical thinking ability is far beyond ordinary people."

"And good observation," Watson added.

Holmes seemed to lift up a little when he heard what they said.

He could hardly conceal the corners of his lips, showing a bit of satisfaction.

Elena secretly remembered this - Mr. Holmes seems to like others to praise his personal ability.

It seemed to make him seem less unapproachable, she thought silently.

But despite his occasional eccentricities, Mr. Holmes has always been a well-spoken gentleman.

"But having said that, I'm still surprised that those architects rejected you," Watson looked at Elena who was aside, "Miss Molson, I can assure you that your drawing skills are already quite good!"

Watson once saw Elena drawing sketches in the dining room on the first floor, and occasionally she would specifically beg the two to allow her to sit in front of the living room window on the second floor, expressing the scenery of Baker Street with a different perspective .

Watson himself likes to think about these, architectural structures, interior decorations and the like.

In his eyes, some of Elena's designs are actually quite novel.Logically speaking, this shouldn't be a problem for Elena. After all, as long as you have a little insight, you can see that hiring Elena is really worth the money.

"It's not a problem with drawing skills." Elena smiled wryly. "Actually, the first few replies I received were quite enthusiastic. I don't know if they thought I was different from what they imagined because they saw me I changed my mind, but it's kind of unbelievable to me."

Elena originally had a happy chat with the person in charge of the first construction firm, but when her name was announced, the person in charge changed his face, and then expressed his apology tactfully.

Several other companies also declined her application for employment after meeting.

It would be fine if there was only one family, but almost every family is like this, which is really a bit weird.

She wondered, could it be that her father was putting pressure on architectural firms in London so that no one would hire her?

Elena imagined that if her father snorted coldly and said something like "If you dare to run away from home, I will make the whole industry refuse to hire you", "Whoever dares to go against my will, I will let him go bankrupt" , seems to be quite in line with his image of the Earl.

But that's not right either.

Elena worked in her own firm a few years ago, and she is quite aware of this.

As a leader in the industry, his own firm has a certain reputation, but it has not yet reached the level where it can create a monopoly in the industry.Because of this, the earl didn't have the capital to let anyone go bankrupt at all.

Why?Could it be that she used to work in her father's office, and her fame spread to London, making everyone think she was unattainable?Is the identity of the countess really so terrible?

But anyway, she won't be unemployed after leaving the architectural firm. If she can't, she will apply for a job in a government agency and try the wonderful taste of being a party A.

Elena sighed, "Let's take one step at a time."

"What a difficult world!" Watson said sympathetically. "The employment of women is always more difficult than that of men."

"So I'm going to give it a try first," Elena said. "At least it seems easier if I use a pseudonym."

She turned to the two neighbors and shrugged. "Don't worry about me, gentlemen. It's not a big deal except that I'm a little lazy because I don't have a job."

"At any rate, Miss Molson," said Holmes calmly, clasping his hands together, "if you're going to be near Fleet Street, my advice is to have some companionship, whoever it is—it's peaceful there, but It’s always good to be prepared.”

Fleet Street is a place where large and small newspapers gather in London. It is not remote, but the cheap pubs and hotels around it always make a lot of guys with not very good social credit gather here, which makes people passing by quite uneasy.

"Thank you, sir, I'll think about it," Elena said, "Actually I have my little one with me. It shouldn't be a big problem."

She touched the small bag that she never left her body.

Inside were some drawing tools that Earl had customized for her, including a compass with a sharp bottom that was comparable to a steel needle, a set of small triangular steel rulers, a small bottle of ink, and…

Sliding her fingertips into the bag and touching the cold and solid wooden barrel, her heart stabilized.

Relying on this, he should be able to barely defend himself.

"Little guy? What's that? But if you need my help, please feel free to ask," Watson said with a smile, "I'm willing to help you even for this plate of biscuits, ma'am."

"Me too," Holmes nodded. "Please do your best not to expose yourself to danger, no matter what the circumstances may be."

Elena nodded.

Watson tapped the cigarette in his hand, and asked Holmes again, "So, Holmes, you also used a similar method to distinguish that I am a military doctor?"

Holmes lit the pipe in his hand, took a puff, and explained.

After the two finished chatting, Watson applauded excitedly.

Before he could say admiration, Holmes raised his finger to his lips.

Holmes made a "shh" gesture.

Watson realized something and subconsciously looked over.

The two's new neighbor, Ms. Elena Molson, was curling up in a comfortable sofa chair with her eyes closed.

She was breathing steadily and seemed to be soundly asleep.

Probably due to the exhaustion of the past few days, even though Elena fell asleep, she still frowned slightly, as if she was thinking about something.

Mrs. Hudson opened the door, "Eileen, it's time to go to bed..."

When she saw Elena sleeping soundly on the chair, she froze.

Immediately there was a bit of distress.

Elena has always been a sensible child, she never mentions the argument with her father at home, but she insists on going out to work.

She didn't deliberately ask how things were going these few days, but judging from Elena's performance these days, it was probably quite bad.

"Gentlemen," said Mrs. Hudson in a low voice, "I can ask you..."

Holmes nodded.

He got up quite naturally and put the pipe aside.

Then he hugged Elena, who was still sleeping soundly, and went up to the third floor with Mrs. Hudson leading the way with a lantern.

On the other side, in the dark alley.

The match rubbed against the box a few times, but it didn't light because the weather was too humid.

The gangster squatting at the entrance of the alley spat hard, and reluctantly put the cigarette back in his pocket.

He sighed heavily, and before he could complain, something hit his back.

The bully Jack broke out in a cold sweat.

At some point, there was someone standing behind him!

The man behind him slowly turned the barrel of the gun, deliberately lowering his voice.

"How's things going, Jack?" asked the person behind him, "Have you finished what I told you?"

The man's voice was obviously gentle, but Jack shuddered.

He couldn't help shaking twice.

"It's done, Riley, it's all done," the gangster named Jack stammered, "I've done what you told me earlier, and I've let go of the note, so there shouldn't be any problem. threatened... ah..."

He clutched his neck, opened his eyes wide in disbelief, and looked backward, then was gently pushed by Riley, and fell straight forward.

The footsteps that were not light or heavy gradually approached, and Riley could clearly see that the old guy who was following him had a scar on his face, which was pale white against the moonlight.

With one hand, Riley pointed the gun at the incoming man, and with the other hand retracted the knife that was still dripping blood, and wiped Jack's clothes by the way.

"It's a bad job, Jack," he said lightly, "so now, let me finish it."