My Detective Roommate [Sherlock Holmes]

Professor Parker's clinic, Feynman has been waiting for a long time to inspect, and he still seems to be a loyal guard.For a brief moment, Adelia was a little scared and wanted to give up the position to her detective roommate.But she knew that she had to do it.

No, Sherlock was still behind her.

The gun at her waist, and the people behind her gave her some courage. In her previous life, she was pushed away and hit her head, struggling helplessly and seeing her teacher, friend and comrade-in-arms die—she couldn’t stop the tragedy, but she could Point out the murderer.At least this time, she can.

She went to the window, glanced at the pattern of the bolt, then turned and nodded to Sherlock and the Inspector.

This position is a bit cold, but she didn't realize it.

"I don't think I need any extra self-introduction." Her eyes fell on the red dried flowers on Professor Parker's desk. "I am the assistant of the consulting detective Mr. Holmes. Kind of like a doctor."

She realized that she was still nervous, and tried her best to cut out the redundant words after this sentence.

"Let's get straight to the point. The first topic is, suicide or homicide?"

"When you see the deceased, you can basically be sure that he killed him. There is a significant difference between the suicide constriction and his strangulation, which is described in detail in the forensic medical report. The most rough look, the suicide constriction should be in the thyroid on the cartilage, and the deceased's thyroid cartilage was fractured; besides, you see."

She walked to the chair under the white sheet: "Remember this position."

Then she lifted the chair up, placed it directly under the white sheet, pushed the back of the chair, and the chair hit the ground with a thud.

"Obviously, it is impossible for the kicked chair to turn back and fall to the ground in the form we saw just now; secondly, it is impossible to not hear the sound from outside; of course, there is one crucial point, the sole of Professor Parker's shoes is not clean, After all, I stepped on snow water from outside, but the cushion was clean."

"Yes, we all agree that this is not suicide." Brad proudly affirmed.

Feynman didn't seem to react, but he hesitated and still nodded.

"About the so-called Chamber of Secrets—" Her voice was a little tense, and subconsciously, her eyes drifted to Sherlock.

It feels like, when an expert is defending, there is a sense of peace of mind that there will be a teacher behind to help make up for it at any time.

Adelia didn't expect that she was still in the mood to joke at this moment.

"First of all, we can be sure that the professor faked suicide after being strangled to death by others. According to the testimony of the maid, the professor appeared in the clinic in the morning. It can be basically judged that the professor was strangled to death in the consulting room. He didn’t die on the sidelines and bring him back. His coat was taken off and hung on a hanger, as evidenced by the lack of traces of wind and snow in the inner suit.”

"The physical examination showed almost no signs of fighting. It was the easiest thing to do when strangled to death. The action of pulling the rope with your hands can also be judged from the condition of the nails of the corpse. It is enough to prove that he did not take precautions, and the murderer was very strong. Sit until you are strangled to death."

"There are two situations where there are no precautions. One is that he didn't know there was someone in the house and was strangled to death by surprise. The other is that he saw someone, but it was someone he trusted, so he accidentally handed over his back."

At this time, she glanced at the pale-faced Detective Feynman pointedly.

"Mr. Inspector, I want to confirm, are you sure that the doors and windows were locked at that time?"

Detective Brad wanted to speak, but was frightened by Adlia's glance, and stopped silently—at the same time, he suddenly realized something.

"I checked it myself." Feynman resisted the urge to lick his lips, but he couldn't resist touching his nose.

Adelia didn't know why, but she felt absurd in her heart. Everything around her became a silent film of a movie. She suddenly smiled, as if it was just ordinary concern: "Speaking of which, the room is quite warm. Gloves, sir, may you take them off?"

The flickering panic on Feynman's inspection face was easily captured by her, but his voice seemed innocent, but he was a little puzzled. He took off his gloves, and then touched his hand with some anxiety.

Adelia walked up to him in a few steps, and brushed his gloves seemingly inadvertently: "Did you do some physical work recently? Like fetching water from a well?"

Feynman didn't hear the sarcasm in his tone: "Yes, sir, it hurts to carry water in this weather, and the quality of the gloves we match is not so good."

Explaining the marks on his glove.

"Yeah," Adelia opened this chapter seemingly lightly. Like a seasoned hunter, she made some small movements to attract the attention of the prey, and patiently waited for the opportunity to hunt. She paced the house slowly, But always keeping Feynman in her firing range, "Let's go back to the Chamber of Secrets."

"It's probably not difficult to enter the secret room. As long as you live nearby for a while, you can easily understand the working habits of the people in the clinic."

"And leaving the secret room——if the murderer wants to leave the secret room, he can only go through the door and window. Of course, the door is generally ignored." Adlia still smiled, but there was no smile in his eyes. "It is possible to go out through the door Met the maids, Professor Wycombe, and the doctors and patients who came early to the special room."

"The murderer is clearly planning to kill someone intentionally. Naturally, he wouldn't choose such a stupid path. There are only windows."

She stood in front of the east window, with one hand on the window sill: "I don't even think about the south-facing window, because there is no shelter in front of it, and it is easy to be seen by others. If someone who is familiar with the scene commits a crime, he must not." Will consider this window, then only east facing windows."

She reached out and opened the window, and the cold wind suddenly rushed into the room.

"But the inspector says it's locked too, right? Feynman."

"Yes, sir."

"Professor Wycombe, and Wellington, they haven't checked the windows, have they?"

"Of course—" Brad didn't finish his sentence.

In the next second, Feynman, who seemed to be obedient all the time, suddenly jumped up, rushed to the window and pushed Adelia to the ground.

"Adrian!"

"Feynman!"

Adelia was unaware of the pain of the fall, and pulled out the gun from her waist almost at the same time—her movement was without hesitation, as if she had rehearsed it thousands of times—

"boom!"

Adelia thought she was going to laugh, but she didn't.

Her bullet hit him in the thigh, and the pain was so severe that he couldn't get out through the window, and Inspector Brad seized the opportunity to stop him.

"I thought you could bear it, sir," Adelia was still sitting on the ground, half sad and happy, "I still have a lot of evidence to say, your police badge fell on the ground and was picked up by Sherlock; There are usually two nasal sprays on the shelf behind the professor, sometimes as a gift to the patient, but there is only one left that day; you tore up the doctor's order, but the professor wrote very heavy, I can describe your The name—did you think it was scribbled? Just like all stupid patients, who feel that they are not serious about seeing a doctor, and the names of the medicines are all scribbled?"

Sherlock was silent throughout the play, but he didn't miss every reaction of his roommate. At this moment, he walked silently to Adele and tried to help Adlia.

Adlia shook her head and sat on the ground like that, the cold wind made her face hurt.

Inspector Feynman bent down and covered his wound in pain: "What's wrong with me! My damn nose!"

He sneezed hard a few times: "Always—always that damned, disgusting spray! But I've never been better! And charging the whole goddamn three shillings! He's so good! Can you get rich just by relying on this?"

Adelia's hand raised the gun again.

Before Detective Brad or Sherlock could speak, Feynman laughed loudly: "Shoot and kill me—you can go to prison and stop being a doctor and cheat money!"

Adelia's hands were shaking.

Her previous life——after that incident, spotlights and microphones appeared in front of her wave after wave like zombies, and everyone tried to pry her mouth open and uncover her scars.

She couldn't say she wanted to kill that man, and she couldn't.

Now she can't do it either.

"I won't ruin myself for you," she heard her voice was extremely calm, "I've been meaning to say for a long time——

"I've been meaning to say it for a long time."

"Patients killing doctors, so many excuses, expensive treatments that don't work, taking care of other patients without seeing themselves, doing tests that don't work - you know what, it's basically just your ignorance.

"Doctors are not gods, and medical skills are not magic arts.

"Why is no one willing to treat you? Because it can't be cured, it can't be cured, because you know you won't have good feedback.

"Professor Parker is kind, he is responsible, he is willing to try new methods to give you new treatments, even if there is a little improvement. He is also willing to relieve some of your burden and occasionally give you a bottle of medicine for free."

She couldn't speak any more.

Gentle, kind, responsible, all such beautiful words seem to be more vulnerable to doctors.She learned early not to turn her back on the patient, but could she escape a murderer with ulterior motives even if she faced it?

Sherlock reached out and pressed her hand down without much effort.He held her hand tightly, trying to stop her trembling, and patted her back with one hand.

It was a method he had learned from her, to channel her rapid breathing into a slow rhythm.

Her hands were as cold as ice.

"This is not a medical malpractice, this is murder." Detective Brad handcuffed Feynman.

Sherlock felt the person he was comforting suddenly froze, and he saw her lift the corner of her mouth and smile as if she was about to cry.

"Yes Inspector, it was murder."

She took advantage of her strength to stand up, and her movements were slow because of the pain from the fall.

"Adrian, it's all over—" said Sherlock Wen, "you did it, and you said it."

"In fact, I still have a lot to say." She looked at him, her lips trembling. "I thought about it all night last night, but I can't say anything, Holmes. I just couldn't say anything."

His gray eyes expressed comfort and tolerance.

There was even a pampering gaze that looked like a friend standing completely beside her.

She suddenly seemed like a wronged child, or she found the lone ship of the navigation light, found the direction at that second, and shed a bit of defensive posture... Or she finally couldn't hide her weakness and needed some help. Support and shelter... She fell headlong into his neck like a wild beast, her breathing was still short, her hands were tightly clutching the clothes around his waist.

"You said it—you said it very well." He couldn't see her expression, so he could only comfort him tirelessly.

He knew that it must be because of the fragile expression that could not be covered that his friend had to choose to cover his face.

Sherlock's hands hesitated for a moment, and finally fell on her back.

——The truth has been revealed, the murderer has been arrested, he feels the pain of his friend, but he can't fully understand it, he can only try to comfort him with all his heart.

That might be a bit painful for him.

The author says:

Grass, I actually wrote the heart knot 10 unknowingly.

adr, you have to stand up!promise me! Get out of the knot within 15!

After realizing that Lao Fu is that Lao Fu, adr began to call him Sherlock sometimes.

I thought about whether to keep the last sentence for a long time, but I still kept it!Not being able to appease his friends made him feel a little uncomfortable!

——By the way, is my writing getting worse?