My Detective Roommate [Sherlock Holmes]

Adrian has a peculiar temperament, Sherlock has analyzed, this temperament is close to melancholy and indifferent, but he is not indifferent-not to mention Adrian's concern for Mrs. Hudson, just say Treating himself, a roommate who is not very familiar, although Adrian does not approve of his schedule, if he does not return to 221b at night, there must be a small light in the corridor.

Sherlock could swear that even if he searched all London, he would never find such a person again.

Sherlock naturally made some concessions to the roommate he admired. For example, he tried to avoid "sawing wood" when Adrian was in the house.

And Adlia seems to have made some progress in her observation of Sherlock.

This roommate's artistic talent is obviously very high, and he often uses his violin to play extremely beautiful and unfamiliar movements, some of which are obviously his improvisation, and Adlia can even hear his mood from it.Secondly, since the last time they discussed her classmate's letter, Sherlock seems to no longer hide his frightening desire to explore, especially after dinner, when they sit in the living room to rest, Sherlock will always Opening the curtains with great interest, he observed the crowd downstairs.

Just like today.

"That must be a boxer," he stared out the window thoughtfully. "Lightweight, maybe I can see where they usually fight."

The sky was a little drowsy that day. Adlia didn't know if it was an illusion, but she could always smell the sticky and disgusting smell in the air.Such weather made her feel a little uncomfortable and had a headache.She originally wanted to go back to her room to rest after dinner, but out of politeness, she restrained herself and glanced out the window, and indeed a man who looked rather robust passed by.Before she could speak, she saw a familiar figure.

Sherlock's eyes seemed to be sharper and faster than hers, and he jumped up from the sofa: "Mr. Wilson is here."

"What about you?" She was unprepared for a while and subconsciously asked.

"Some small tricks, I don't mind explaining them to you later," Sherlock walked up to her, pushed her towards the sofa by pressing her shoulders, "but at this moment, would you like to receive me with me?" Is it your classmate?"

Christon Wilson, Adelia's classmate, was assigned to a group in the experimental class. As far as Adelia's interpersonal relationship is concerned, this level is considered familiar.

To add, it was the same classmate who sent the letter to 221b for Adelia.

According to Adelia's personality, she would generally avoid such occasions.But when Wilson invited her to the clinic after he opened it, she always felt that something was wrong, and she was indeed a little confused about Wilson's ambiguous statement in the letter at that time.

But before she hesitated whether to stay or not, Sherlock had already pressed her shoulders and pushed her down on the sofa to sit down.

"Although you may not be very interested, just take it as a small request from me—" Sherlock drew a long tone and looked at her with a smile, "I have a hunch that you can be of great help."

He turned around briskly, walked to the hanger in a few steps, put on his black slightly serious windbreaker, put on his hat, and opened the door coherently—this movement was so smooth that he seemed to have done it countless times.

"Mrs. Hudson, let him come up—" He glanced sideways at Adria again, "That's Adrian's friend, Mr. Wilson!"

Before Christon Wilson could figure out how to explain his identity to the landlady in front of him, he was ushered in by the enthusiastic landlady.

"This is the first time I've seen Adrian's friend come to the door. It's really rare. I'm his aunt and the landlord here. You can call me Mrs. Hudson." She was still wearing a white apron, " Have you eaten yet? I'll bring you some snacks later?"

Wilson had seen all kinds of people in the clinic, and he naturally had a good impression of such a kind lady: "Thank you for your kindness, Mrs. Hudson, I just finished eating, so I won't trouble you."

Realizing that the lady seemed desperate to do something, he offered an alternative: "If it's convenient, black tea will do."

He took off his hat and put it under his arm with the briefcase, and smiled as he watched Mrs. Hudson turn and go to the kitchen, and then walked up the steps to Holmes in three steps.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson. I am Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock reached out first.

"Sorry for the temporary rescheduling and coming early," Wilson reached out and shook hands with Holmes, "How do you know it's mine?"

He turned his head and saw Adelia beside the sofa: "Did my classmate tell you?"

He was tall and tall, standing next to Sherlock without any hesitation, his body was very clean and tidy, but the hat was slightly deformed by him just casually pinching it.

"Long time no see, Wilson." Adelia pulled out a chair for him and motioned him to sit down. "I haven't told him yet."

In fact, she thought it was because the two had made an appointment to meet at this moment that Sherlock recognized Wilson with such certainty.

"I think you must be wrong, Adrian." Sherlock sat diagonally across from Wilson, "I have never met Mr. Wilson, and the time I agreed with Mr. Wilson is not today. As for why it is accurate? To identify you—”

His eyes flicked across Adlia's face, and then turned to Wilson: "You can probably take it as a little bit of my talent."

Adelia was a little dumbfounded, and even her headache eased.

"Let's put this little detail aside," Sherlock said, "Mr. Wilson, what forced you to change your plan and come to visit a day earlier?"

Wilson pursed his thick lips, his eyes flicked past Adlia with some hesitation at this moment, and he took a deep breath.

"I think I've already come here, so it's inconvenient to hide it. I didn't think it was very urgent," he licked his lips, "but I found that a beautiful lady might be missing, maybe I can't just sit idly by. "

He glanced at Adelia again: "I remember Hudson mentioned before that the missing gold recovery period is within 24 hours of the discovery of the disappearance, is it? I think although I'm not sure, my intuition Tell me I have to act sooner."

Adelia was stunned for a moment, and she didn't remember when she said this, maybe it was a casual mention in a certain chat.

"Ha, Adrian always has some fantastic arguments," Sherlock said with a slight smile, "please rest assured that your trusted friend is also in this room, you can calm down and think carefully about the ins and outs of the whole thing."

When Wilson was in school, he was keen on socializing and professional. As soon as he graduated, a social investor came to him, probably saying that he wanted to sponsor young talents to open a clinic. The investor, Mr. Clint, was also a Cambridge After graduation, he is an out-and-out Londoner. He seems to have quite a fortune. The contract and treatment are very loose, and the fees for the clinic are not too high.

The clinic is not too far from the notorious East End, and is a former property of the investor.

"Probably in the Salisbury area? The law and order there may not be very good." Sherlock interjected.

"Ah, yes, but I don't seem to be bothered by the law and order, except for one thing."

Adlia got up silently and went to the door, and brought in the black tea prepared by Mrs. Hudson. The naughty wife looked at her encouragingly, trying to get her to talk a little more and make some friends, and then touched Went downstairs.

After taking the black tea to moisten his mouth, Wilson continued to tell his own story.

Mr. Clint doesn't visit the clinic very often, and he doesn't seem to care too much about income and expenditure, as long as he doesn't lose money.Of course, because the decoration of the clinic is good, and Wilson himself is "somewhat likable and the medical level is passable" (Wilson said with some embarrassment), and the pricing is quite approachable, the clinic has always had no shortage of patients, which can be regarded as Small profits but quick turnover.

"Then it was the matter I mentioned to you in my letter, Mr. Holmes—"

The first was the loss of a blood sample labeled with the patient's name.

This involves Wilson's graduation project "erythrocyte agglutination". Although he did not study the principle until graduation, he habitually saved some blood and tried it in his spare time.

At first he thought he had lost it carelessly—after all, it is of no value to most people.

"But then I found out that some patients who regularly came back for physical examinations suddenly never came again," Wilson hesitated. "I checked my visitor register before coming again, and six people just disappeared."

He licked his lips uneasily once: "I talked to Hudson about the loss of the blood sample, and Hudson suggested that I write down who lost it, so that I might be able to keep a sample if needed in the future."

Sherlock looked at Adelia, who nodded slightly.

"Coincidentally, the six lost blood samples belonged to these six patients who never came again, which even made me suspect that it was a dream, whether these six people did not exist at all, and these six blood samples did not exist," he said. Showing a somewhat unspeakable smile, "But I have an impression of these six people—they are all customs girls in the Eastern District."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows slightly, which meant that he had a little interest. He didn't mean to avoid it, and asked directly: "So, have you gone to them?"

"Of course not!" Wilson quickly shook his head, denying fiercely, "Perhaps it's not appropriate to say that, I thought they just didn't think it was necessary to come again..."

"As for the reason why I came here suddenly today, it's because last week, I lost another blood sample," he changed the subject bluntly, "That blood sample belongs to a tutor who lives alone in Salisbury."

"She came because of a fever, and I kept a tube of blood as usual. After taking the medicine and leaving, she accidentally left the book in the clinic." He carefully recalled the details of the day, but it was a pity that he might have been really busy that day. I really can't remember, "About three days—no, two days later, I met her on the way to work in the clinic, and she didn't look very well."

Wilson's speech slowed down, as if he was recalling something: "I told her about the book, and she said that she would come to pick it up the next day, that is, yesterday, and I even turned out the book and put it on the table. "

"But she didn't come yesterday."

Wilson licked his lips again: "Because I can't let go of the fact that people who lost blood samples are missing. I didn't open the clinic this morning. I followed the visitor registration book to find her home, thinking that if nothing happened, I would Just give her the book back."

"You didn't find her, did you?" Sherlock's eyes suddenly became serious.

"She should be a somewhat wary girl, she didn't write her real address," he sighed, "but I saw her bicycle abandoned in a bush on the road."

The author says:

来了来了，看我十一多勤奋感谢在2021-09-2322:41:51~2021-10-0200:34:26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 threw mines: Seven Girls Cat and one Sky Blue;

Thanks to the little angels of irrigation nutrient solution: 25 bottles of Shirley Dew; 20 bottles of IrisH.; 10 bottles of the cutest dragon in the world; 9 bottles of My[cs]lo;

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