Miss Watson of the Sherlock Holmes

Block a, 221 Baker Street, London, September [-]th.

Dear Eric:

Since you asked me to stay in Baker Street to deliver messages to you, I haven’t messaged you for a week. It’s really not that I’m slack on purpose, but Miss Watson’s life routine (if you often read books until midnight, and then get up at noon, this kind of work and rest is also the same) If it is another rule), there is really no special situation to report.

You specifically asked me to observe the color of her necklace, but there was no progress. You said that it would occasionally turn golden, and it didn't happen at all.

The reason for this situation is not me but, first of all, your fiancée spends most of the time alone on the second floor, and as a young opposite sex, it is impossible for me to go up to find her directly (I am frank, but because of your strange jealousy, I will never go upstairs!)

So, there is no way I'd be so rude to stare at the neck of a young lady whose abilities you know very well, and if arouse her suspicion or make her No, my personal safety risk must be threatened.

By the way, today she took the commission of a girl who was taken away that we saw in Egypt, a clichéd love story.

Besides, the Siren said he saw you at the pier, what happened? Be careful not to be caught by Miss Witch. Didn't you say that you can't meet her recently?She also sneaked back to London, but she is at the pier now.

your sincere friend

World's Greatest Pirate Captain

"Don't meet, tsk." Eric sighed a rare sigh after reading the letter brought by the bird that should never appear in the area of ​​the university town - the seagull.

"I'm really going to make trouble for myself."

The young detective skillfully lit the alcohol lamp, lit the beautifully printed letter paper on the blue flame, and watched it until it was completely black and ash.

Ursula touched the gemstone on her neck, and glanced back feelingly. She just felt that someone was peeping at her, but there was no malice, and even a sense of familiarity.

"It seems that I don't need to distinguish, you know what's going on with these fish, don't you?" Ursula didn't pay much attention to this matter because she didn't sense the danger. Optimistic thoughts, turned to the siren.

"They're outposts." The siren twitched the corners of his mouth, with some disgust in his tone.

"The victim used for temptation, have you heard of the Trojan horse?"

"You mean this is the London wooden fish?" Dr. Watson responded the fastest this time. Not only did he understand the subtext of the siren who was given the name of Cecil, but also Words are replaced to match the current context.

"... Muyu is too appropriate." Ursula was directly moved by her uncle's whimsy, and she couldn't think of a more suitable adjective than this for a while.

"Whose victim" Under the romantic literary sentiments of Watson's uncle and his nephew, Mr. Holmes was not misled at all, and he captured the key words in the siren's words.

"Don't you know? You should know!" Siren looked at the detective in surprise: "That's your old acquaintance."

"That guy called Professor Moriarty."

As soon as the name came out, there was silence at the scene.

Dr. Watson opened his mouth wide. He didn't know the nonsense Eric told the pirate captains in Egypt. Lestrade's eyes widened and he gasped for breath.

"Isn't he dead? Mr. Holmes!"

Facing Lestrade's question, Mr. Holmes's expression was extremely serious. He was silent for a moment, and then he said, "I am very sure that the criminal expert I know called the professor has passed away."

"It is absolutely impossible to be resurrected." He held a flower with his cane, and his expression brightened. Mr. Holmes's interest was clearly aroused: "Is it a follower? Or a successor?"

"I don't know about this, anyway, there is such a person." Siren shrugged.

"..." No, didn't Eric make up that name in order to get rid of Yixing?Forget about others, why are you guys on the Ivy so cooperative.

"That... Actually, I've always been curious." Ursula thought for a while, and decided to get first-hand information from the person involved.

"Why did you suddenly get into a fight with that professor over the waterfall?" She asked Mr. Holmes directly.

"I'm also very curious about this. When he suddenly rushed forward with his bare hands, I thought he was crazy." Mr. Holmes looked at Ursula very frankly: "It may be a sudden emotional outburst, after all, his career and party members at that time Totally ruined by me, he's like a street rat."

"You don't have to think about the possibility of supernatural phenomena happening to Napoleon of the Kingdom of Sin. If he had the means, he wouldn't just have his men sniping at me with air rifles." Mr. Holmes shrugged, and turned to Dr. Watson. laughed.

"Tsk, it's interesting to see, Watson. Not long ago I was still feeling that London has become a dull city since Professor Moriarty passed away."

"And now someone wants to use his name to provide me with new pleasures."

With Dr. Watson's disapproving gaze, Holmes asked the siren, "Why do you want to use this description as a Trojan horse. I don't think it's because of the similarities between Tibetans with fish belly and Tibetan horses."

"Of course not! I say that because this is another Helen battle." The Siren stood with her arms folded.

"Uh..." Mr. Holmes seemed to have thought of something after hearing what the Siren said.

"Lestrade!" he cried suddenly.

"I'm here!" Inspector Lestrade was taken aback. He didn't understand what the three people were talking about just now. It was Troy's and Moriarty's. In his opinion, it had nothing to do with this case.

"Have you found out the identity of the deceased? What does the coroner say?" asked Mr. Holmes.

"Only one has been found, and you should know it."

"Who?"

"Mawson Yard, who just killed a clerk in a jewelry store robbery last month." Mr. Lestrade flipped through his notebook: "The time of death cannot be determined accurately, but the medical examiner said it was definitely not today."

"Interesting." Mr. Holmes pondered for a while, then smiled: "You can continue to search in this direction."

"You mean..."

"Wanted criminals who have committed homicides in recent months will be pleasantly surprised if they compare the identity of the deceased in this direction."

"Okay, sir." Although Lestrade was puzzled, he still wrote it down.

"And then, Ursula." Mr. Holmes suddenly looked at Ursula, who felt as if he didn't need his help.

"You say."

"The direction of your investigation is, Troy... oh, no, it should be the London wooden fish." Mr. Holmes said, "Has anyone walked out of it or..."

He gestured to Ursula with his eyes: "That's your category. I suggest that you can visit your colleagues in the past few days and participate in some industry activities in London."

"Understood." Ursula felt a little cold and a little headache. The so-called activities in the industry that Mr. Holmes said basically meant seances and divination.

In London, where these two activities are popular, participating in the former is basically watching a monkey show, while experiencing the latter is likely to be played like a monkey.

"You... what's the matter." Seeing Inspector Lestrade leading his men away, the siren, whose suspicions had been completely cleared, relaxed his expression. He looked left and right, instinctively leaving the only magic present. The examiner moved closer, then wrinkled his nose.

"It smells very strange," he commented.

"Hey, it's rude to say that!" Ursula looked at the source of the rotten smell not far away, then pulled her clothes and sniffed herself.

I don't feel it at all.

"You actually think I smell weirder than the current environment smells," Ursula joked.

"It's not on you, ah, it came from your bag." The siren sniffled and lowered her head. "What did you put in there"

"In the bag" Ursula suddenly remembered that Miss Rose had given her something for him in the morning, and she packed it into the bag and brought it to the scene.

"Is that what you're talking about?" Ursula opened her purse, and shook out a mirror with a handle from inside the velvet pouch.

"That's right, that's it." The siren approached and carefully confirmed it.

"This taste is similar to those on those fish."

"..." This statement is more terrifying than Mr. Holmes' "man" coming out of the belly of the fish, okay?

Ursula corrected her attitude, took a few steps back, put a safe distance away from her uncle and Mr. Holmes, and then turned the mirror over.

There are no magical fluctuations.I don't know if it was because Ursula deliberately avoided the mirror to reflect her own figure, so she didn't respond.

"It seems to have words on it." Siren glanced at the side and pointed out.

"Yeah." Ursula raised her eyes and smiled flatteringly at Dr. Watson, and then in his inexplicable eyes, under the cover of the siren, a small golden flame suddenly appeared in the palm of her hand.

Dr. Watson was dumbfounded again.

The dots of golden flame fell on the mirror surface to form a line of words, and then floated up.

"Even if the whole world regards you as the left, I will regard you as the right."

"Ah, Helen!" Dr. Watson took the initiative to block his line of sight and stammered, "So this is..."

"Yes, it's the mirror of the legendary Helen." As an expert at playing with fire, Ursula suddenly felt that the mirror was hot.

"Cecile..." She turned to the siren, pursed her lips and asked, "What did you just say about the Battle of Helen?"

"Do you know who... is that Helen?" She remembered Miss Rose crying about the conflicts between love and family in the morning, and suddenly had a bad feeling.