[Shen Xia] Britannia Rose

Isabella, who is nervous about the upcoming exams, is very quiet. She has never left Cambridgeshire. Every day is a classroom except for the library. She is tired of the French butter cinnamon baked apple pie that she always likes in the school cafeteria. .

Claire Green's temptation didn't appear again after that. After Isabella wrote the last word, the exam that lasted for two weeks was finally over. When I got a few good friends and went racing on the suburban highway, Sherlock's text messages seemed to be stuck, and they arrived on her mobile phone on time.

"What's in the drawer in my room, please hand it over to the fat man. - SH"

"What? Your bedroom? How are you doing, Sherlock? - Isa"

"Obviously. I'm fine. - SH"

"I don't believe it, if you haven't taken drugs recently, you will find that I can't get into your boys' dormitory at all! - Isa"

Isabella almost laughed out of anger, this time Sherlock's text message was sent more than ten seconds later than the previous few times.

"Comeon, I don't want to see a fat man.—SH"

Well... Isabella really lost to him. She flipped through the address book, and a string of numbers suddenly popped out of her mind. That daredevil Isaac, a freshman majoring in chemistry, Isabella believed He can do himself that favor.

Isaac agreed very happily, and the two agreed to meet downstairs in the dormitory.When Isaac came down the stairs out of breath, Isabella handed him the latte in her hand. She was still so elegant and calm. Isaac took the coffee flattered, embarrassed to look at her Clear and bright eyes.

"I'm sorry to trouble you." Isabella took the white sealed bag and thanked Isaac with a smile.

"Uh, no trouble, is your leg okay?"

"It's completely fine, thank you for your concern." Isabella said reservedly.

Isaac scratched his hair, lowered his head shyly, "Please, are you free tonight?"

Isabella raised her eyebrows. She didn't miss the new clothes with pleats and mousse hair that the boy put on before going out. Oh, he even wore Bulgari Darjeeling tea perfume. .

"Sorry, I still have a paper to hand in..." Isabella lied without blushing.

"Uh! It's okay, it's okay, I was too abrupt, let's do it next time." Isaac who was rejected was even more at a loss, his cheeks flushed, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

"You don't have to be nervous..." Isabella had a kind but distant smile on her face, "We can talk next time when we have time."

"Yes, yes, then, goodbye." Isaac said hesitantly.

Isabella bowed slightly, and she opened the sealed bag, and inside were three photos, with obvious traces of flames on them.This should be a relic of John Openshaw.A small corner of the photo has been burned, and the rest of the picture can be vaguely seen as the general background. It is a dilapidated and abandoned pier, with several refitted ships moored on the shore, and someone is loading things onto the ship.Some tin boxes were tightly sealed with seals.

She continued to open the next one. This one was clearer than the previous one, but it was still taken from a candid angle. This time she saw clearly that what the group of people were transporting to the ship was batch after batch of munitions.The red UK logo was covered with paint, and a slender woman was in charge of moving the munitions.She couldn't see her face clearly, only she was wearing a long black dress with shoulder-length hair.

The third photo was burned to the point where only a small part of the top was left. Isabella barely recognized a few English words from the blackened photo. They were marked inside the container, and they were three bright red KKK.

John Openshaw did not tell the truth. Out of curiosity, when he was burning documents for his father, he secretly picked out a few photos from the fire. Because this has exposed the evidence of their arms smuggling.

Isabella's heart was in her throat. She had never felt that the photo was so hot. She looked around, hid the photo in her pocket, pretended to be nonchalant, and walked to the library with the most traffic.

Isabella dialed McCoff's phone, and before she could speak first, she hastily lowered her voice and said, "I'm at school, and I have something important to discuss."

The little black car slid into the school without a sound. This time, it was Mycroft who came over in person. Isabella opened the door and jumped into the car as if fleeing. female secretary.

"Is there something urgent?" Mycroft should have come from the Diogenes Club, from [-]:[-]pm to [-]:[-]pm, he always likes to think about things there.

Isabella nodded, but she didn't intend to give him the photo right now. No third person could know what she was going to say, not even Belinda.

After thinking for a while, Mycroft understood what she meant, so he whispered, "Go to the Diogenes Club."

When I arrived at the office with extremely strong sound insulation, Isabella took out the three photos from her pocket and handed them to McCoff. She said, "Sherlock asked me to bring them to you."

As smart as he is, he understood everything the first time he saw the photo. Mycroft was silent for a long time before sighing, "Sherlock always makes me love and hate..."

There is no doubt that this is a roundabout gesture by the awkward younger brother to make up for breaking his brother's heart.These evidences are very important to Mycroft, Isabella watched him pick up a report on the desk, and the next moment, a slender hand handed over the report.

Isabella looked at the report, which read: The letter was not intercepted. On September 25, SH sent it on behalf of JO.United States, Georgia, Savannah, Lone Star barque, Captain James Calhoun.

"Is this... a letter from Sherlock?"

"Yes, he put five orange pits in the envelope," Mycroft rubbed his temples with a headache, "he checked the Lloyd's ship register and the file of old documents, and tracked down the port of Pondicherry. The voyage of each ship since it left port. He got some clues from one of them called the Lone Star."

"The name of this ship is the state of Texas in the United States." Isabella said.

"He continued to check the information of Dundee and London, and the Lone Star has a record of docking."

"How could smuggling leave a message?" Isabella asked.

"Every time they come over, they have to hide their eyes and ears. The Lone Star has normal reporting procedures. This ship is used to transport fresh fruits. There are only James Calhoun and a few other lieutenants on board, and their weapons and equipment are stored On the stowaways following them."

"They can enjoy it quite a bit. You must know that smuggling is not a good feeling."

"The ship just passed by Goodwins, not far from the Isle of Wight. Sherlock sent this letter, which will surely make Captain Calhoun sleepless, thinking that he is in great trouble." Mycroft continued to narrate.

"Wait, who is Calhoun?"

"The leader of the Ku Klux Klan. An Indian," Mycroft leaned on his desk with his arms folded. "Three hours ago, I received a report of the Lone Star sinking in the Atlantic."

"..." Isabella lowered her eyes, she understood that this was Sherlock avenging John Openshaw in his own way.

But, in any case, this matter came to an end, and Mycroft got the handle of the Ku Klux Klan as he wished, but these few photos were taken too blurry, and the only woman who appeared could not see her face clearly.

"Is the person in the photo Claire Green?" Isabella couldn't help asking.

"I can't see clearly, maybe it is, maybe it's not," Mycroft shook his head, "We need to restore technology to try."

Isabella nodded, her tense nerves finally relaxed at this moment, she smiled and said with relief: "For the sake of my helping you, shouldn't you also show something?"

"Huh?" Mycroft smiled and made a gesture of listening.

"For example, the aunt who squats downstairs in my dormitory every morning to clean, the teacher in charge of library management in the library, and the guitarist in my band, they can rest."

"Oh, yes, as you wish." Mycroft readily agreed.

"Hope you didn't just give them three days off and then come back and keep spying on me."

"I always walk the talk."

The author has something to say:

The case of five orange cores is finally over

Mycroft and Mrs. Green's partisanship will also surface

Guess which of Mr. Conan Doyle's cases I'm going to adapt next