My Detective Roommate [Sherlock Holmes]

The sky is falling, Sherlock thought, Lestrade protected the scene so well, so perfect that he almost took a look at it, and countless messages flooded in.

Adair was lying on the bed, holding the gun loosely in his hand, the muzzle stuck in his mouth, and the back of his pillow was dripping with blood, which was almost fatal with one blow.Sherlock took out his handkerchief, and carefully took out the gun. The abbreviation of Adair was engraved on the butt of the gun, and it was undoubtedly his own gun.

"Have you found the bullet?" asked Sherlock aloud.

"Found it. Under the bed. It's the left wheel. It may belong to this gun." Lestrade motioned the detective to show Sherlock. "The bullet pierced the poor gentleman."

Sherlock looked at the bullet carefully, and confirmed Lestrade's statement: "I'm glad you used the possibility, but obviously, this is not the same gun. If it came from this gun, it is absolutely impossible to have nothing at night. There is no movement, I am afraid it is a gun that has been specially modified to silence the sound, and the other party is obviously coming prepared. But I can’t say whether it is deliberate or improvised to pretend to be suicide.”

He turned to the body of the deceased, carefully held the head of the deceased, and removed it. He glanced at the condition under the pillow, and at the clothes. Traces of argument or violence.Mycroft said the poor gentleman had had the misfortune of syphilis, and he did find a syphilis rash—he remembered Adlia seeing Inspector Green's rash at a glance, and disinfecting the house.He also has to reduce contact a little, so as not to be rejected.

Suddenly, a footprint on the carpet caught his attention—he stepped back carefully, then lay down on the ground and took out his soft ruler to measure it, then got up lightly, found the second footprint, and then the third , directly to the window.

He looked at the window sill and suddenly had some thoughts.

Lestrade was just behind his footsteps, and looked suspiciously at the footprints on the carpet: "I've seen this footprint before, and it doesn't belong to anyone in this house—but I'm temporarily declaring that no outsiders have invaded. In this case, the murderer might relax his vigilance."

"Oh, that's really clever." Sherlock was obviously in his own thinking, and didn't really want to talk to him.

But after a while, he asked again: "Did Adare close the window that night?"

Lestrade endured it, but still answered him: "He's afraid of the heat, and he often turns it off if it's not noisy at night."

Sherlock walked to the door, looked left and right for there were no redundant servants, and then turned to look at Lestrade: "I want to see the servant who was in the house that night."

He wiped his hands with a dry handkerchief and put his hat back on.

"I thought you were in a better mood and would be willing to tell me some details during the reconnaissance process." Lestrade teased angrily.

"I remember I haven't sent you an invitation letter yet?" Sherlock rarely talked off topic.

"Yes, but the whole world knows about it." Lestrade complained, and went out to call the servants over.

Sherlock looked at a housekeeper, two male servants, and four maids in front of him, and instead of asking questions, he circled around them, and everyone even greeted and shook hands, which fell on Lace There was a little nervousness in Trade's eyes.

"By the way, Lestrade, have you heard of Colonel Moran?" Sherlock said suddenly.

"I know, wasn't he arrested in Kent not long ago?" Lestrade was still concerned, "Attempted murder."

"He is a sharpshooter. He has an improved air|air gun. When he shoots silently, he can kill the target in an instant." Sherlock and Lestrade did not look at Lestrade when they were talking. De, but still walking back and forth in front of the servant, "If his target was not smart enough to make him miss the opportunity to shoot and buy time, it would not be an attempt."

There was no emotion in his tone, but if Adelia was there, he could feel a bit of gnashing of teeth.

Lestrade was speechless: "It's useless to say that, he's in prison."

"Yes, yes," Sherlock said lazily, "I just remembered that he used to be card friends with Mr. Adair in the poker club. Am I a bit distracted?"

He laughed twice, ha, ha, full of sarcasm.

He locked on the suspect: "Do you think so, this—ah, this Mr. William?"

William is half a head shorter than him, but unexpectedly has strong arms: "Yes, I have heard the name of Colonel Moran from the master, sir, how do you know my name is William?"

"Yes, and I know you wear ten-inch shoes," said Sherlock, with a quick shrug. "Perhaps a search of your room will turn up a pair of twelve-inch shoes."

Lestrade could not keep up with Sherlock's train of thought, but he had been used to trusting Sherlock's judgment first in his long-term work. He motioned for a detective to search William's room, and then watched with Sherlock. with him.

The other servants also looked at him in surprise, obviously not understanding what happened.

William also looked confused and panicked: "Sir, I don't understand what you are talking about! Do you suspect that I am a murderer? I have been here for three years!"

"It is precisely because of three years that I was able to walk freely in the house without being suspected," Sherlock said calmly, "I left twelve-inch shoe prints in the house, but the stride did not match the shoe size, and, If it really broke in from the outside, how could there be only shoe prints of leaving, but no trace of entering the house? There is a garden outside, and it is impossible for the wet soil not to stick to the shoes."

Sherlock held his wrist: "And a cocoon in the mouth of a tiger is not what a servant should have."

William seemed to have given up on defending himself, and he stretched out his hand suddenly to shake off Sherlock, but Sherlock's palm was like iron tongs, and he couldn't shake it.

Lestrade quickly took out the handcuffs and handcuffed the servant directly.

William's tense shoulders seemed to loosen suddenly, and he seemed numb to the prison.

"Molan is right, every bad thing has your traces," he seemed mechanically emotionless, "but you will always pay the price."

Two detectives came to escort him away, while another detective who was looking for shoes came in with a pair of large leather shoes in surprise: "God, Inspector, there is really a pair of shoes, and they are still new. "

Sherlock was too lazy to listen to commercial compliments: "I only have one request, before your interrogation, let me meet him alone."

Then he stopped, nodded to Lestrade, and left Park Street without looking back.

A week before the engagement party.

News of Milverton's death made up only a small part of the paper. The wicked bastard brought devastation and pain to hundreds of people. Immediately rushed into El Pudo.

His disfigured face was burned by sulfuric acid, his tongue was trampled by leather shoes, and his heart was pierced by bullets.

The newspapers wrote about Milverton's death in lurid terms, but no one, notably including Adélia, felt sympathy for the villain.

The news was brought back by Joanna, and Adlia let out a long sigh of relief after receiving the news, so that she could finally go to the Grange Manor to ask for an end to this ridiculous engagement.She could hardly wait to hand over the clinic to Ossella, and went to the Grange Manor alone.

But when she arrived at Grange Manor, Sir Blankenstadt looked around and talked about this and that, but he didn't talk about stopping the preparations for the ceremony.

Adelia patiently chatted and chatted for a while, but the other party really pretended to be deaf and dumb. She finally said helplessly: "Sir, you clearly know what I am here for."

Jazz maintained a mask-like etiquette smile: "If it's about the follow-up matters of the clinic—"

"I mean, the threat of Milverton has disappeared, can the engagement banquet be terminated?" Adlia said bluntly, "You know that there is no possibility for me and Layburn, and you will not allow him to marry me Girl's."

"Doctor Hurston, don't underestimate yourself, I admire your achievements very much," the Sir said with a normal face, but he wondered in his heart whether Mr. Holmes' younger brother is reliable or not, and would he want to abandon his marriage and run away?" You are worthy of any gentleman in the world."

Both of them secretly groaned in their hearts.

Adelia was sorting out her words in her mind, but someone knocked on the door.

Could it be that there is no chance to speak, Adelia is a little irritable.

Jazz, however, felt relieved and hurried to let people in.It was a servant who entered the door. He looked at Adlia and whispered something in Sir's ear. Sir was greatly relieved.

"As for the matter of engagement, someone will come to discuss with you again, but I am very busy now - if it is convenient, I will trouble you to visit again tomorrow?" Jazz saw off the guest very simply.

Adelia was taken out of the manor in a daze: "Wait, I'm going to ride my bicycle—"

The servant said regretfully: "I'm really sorry, we accidentally punctured your tire just now, but you can get a brand new tire when you come tomorrow - we have arranged a carriage for you, so you don't have to worry."

Sure enough, there was a carriage waiting for her at the gate of the manor.

Adelia was still dubious, but she could only obey what the other party said, but she was prepared to jump out of the car and run away if something went wrong.With this in mind, she walked to the front of the car and saw the driver——

"Hey, Adelia," he said, lifting his usual bowler hat, "wouldn't you like to say hello to your coachman?"

The warm sunlight caressed his face. He was wearing a black suit with turned up lapels and half-hidden bow tie. He was sitting in the coachman's seat, but he looked like the owner of the manor.

What she wanted to say, a smile reached the corner of her mouth faster than words, and the guarded expression disappeared the moment she saw him.

Sherlock got off his horse and stretched out his right hand to her, and she accepted the pull of fate, and gently put her hand into his palm.

They recalled the same scene, and he kissed the back of her hand.

"Want to come with me?" he asked.

"Are you sure you want to discuss this topic in someone else's manor or next to someone else's carriage?" She said in disgust.

The detective showed a somewhat displeased look, but when their eyes met, the two of them laughed tacitly.

He helped his girl into the car, and Adelia whispered in his ear before getting into the car: "Do you need a reward? I don't have change."

The author says:

It really echoes groom and bridegroom

And in fact, the chapter name is not divided into 123, but it feels a bit untidy if the number is missing, so I should write 1, after all, I am a big 1(x)

感谢在2022-01-2716:11:36~2022-01-2800:18:43期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angels who irrigate the nutrient solution: 3 bottles of rice noodles covered with cold skin;

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