My Detective Roommate [Sherlock Holmes]

Brenda's elder brother Mortimer, who is somewhat conflicted with the family, rents at the home of the local pastor, Mr. Roundhay. Before coming to the Cornish Peninsula, Brenda told Adlia that if she is interested in archaeology , you can visit this Mr. Roundhay.It happened that Christmas was approaching, and Adelia and Sherlock planned to visit in the afternoon.

When they arrived at the vicarage mentioned in the letter, they were met by Mortimer, a gentleman with a sad face.

"There are scattered villages in Cornwall, and on an important festival like Christmas, even if the crowd is sparse, everyone always finds a way to gather in church, sing poetry or perform a play," Mortimer told them, "Mr. Roundhay As the only priest in the diocese, of course he has already been to church."

He is not tall, thin and dark, and seems to avoid their eyes.

"It seems that at Christmas, the church will be very lively." Adlia hesitated, and looked at Sherlock. Her direct friends were not interested in such celebrations.

"Yes, many families will gather there, or bachelors without families are willing to go, and anyone who has nowhere to go can go." Mortimer didn't notice Adelia's hesitation, and only replied rigidly , the word order is also somewhat upside down.

"You don't look well." Sherlock didn't want to talk to his friend who seemed to be okay, deliberately avoided her eyes, and replied directly to Mortimer.

Mortimer seemed to come back to his senses, and answered with vigor: "No, no, sorry, I was just thinking about whether to pack something. I promised to go home today and spend Christmas with my family-but I still I didn't think about whether to clean it up or not."

Adelia didn't notice her friend's embarrassment, and raised her eyebrows. It seemed that Brenda's communication worked. The gentleman who had a conflict with his family was finally ready to go home.Speaking of which, he doesn't look too much like George or Irving.

That being the case, she had no intention of disturbing Mortimer any further: "Then, Holmes, perhaps we have to go to church instead?"

Sherlock seemed to have noticed something unusual, and looked at Mortimer calmly: "Yes, we still set off without delaying Mr. Tregennis. Family gatherings are always impatient."

He tapped his heel with his cane: "After all, family is a haven for healing wounds."

The two of them got into the carriage together again, and Adelia had time to ask him: "I didn't know you had such views on family."

"I wasn't born out of thin air," Sherlock was almost amused by Adlia's strange question, "I also benefited a lot from my family."

Adlia shrugged, pretending to mention her own stereotype of the image of "Sherlock Holmes": "I thought the great detective was obsessed with puzzles and crimes, and didn't need family support, emotional comfort, or—"

"Stop, what novel have you read recently?" Sherlock really tapped Adlia's hat with his cane this time. His movements were not heavy, but more of an intimate joke.

"Well, this is the character setting of the novel I thought of for you." She glanced back and warned him not to really knock on it again.

"I thought someone promised a biography?" He kept her proud little expression in his eyes, and teased her gently.

"Who knows," Adelia looked at the sky and cleared her throat. "After all, my writing style is always disliked by detectives. Maybe I accidentally wrote the detective as the hero of a third-rate romance novel."

"...Then I hope that Mr. Hudson, a bachelor, can have some emotional understanding, enough to support him to write a love novel." When he mentioned this, he was even more upset.

"Because there isn't one, it's a third-rate romance novel." Adlia countered tactfully.

Adelia, who is usually sensitive to the emotions of the people around her, seems to have not noticed the abnormality of her friend at all. Maybe she is too relaxed. She really regards the other party as a friend within her comfort range. Her tone of speech is always a little unscrupulous and less Be careful.

She laughed in her heart for a while, before she suddenly realized: "It seems that you don't mind being the protagonist of a romance novel?"

"I mind very much," Sherlock said blankly, "I mind so much that I start to make fun of you."

Adelia couldn't help laughing freely.

For the first time, Sherlock felt that his roommates were so—no, very, very annoying, because along the way, no matter what happened or talked about, his friends would laugh inexplicably and mysteriously, waiting for his displeasure. Shi Shi waved his hand again and said, "I just thought of happy things."

Hell "happy things"!

But Mr. Sherlock Holmes, you, who laugh at your friend for being so boring, seem to have kept the corner of your mouth on.

The church looked very old, the steps at the door were covered with dark green moss, the lights were brightly lit at the moment, many people came in and out, and they smiled friendly when they saw strange visitors.In fact, Sherlock didn't have much interest in such a ceremony, and a large part of the reason why he was willing to go out was because he didn't have a more interesting job.When Adelia started socializing familiarly, he only indifferently observed the details of the building with his inorganic eyes.

——It looks often forgotten by people, but it also accommodates a room full of fireworks.

It didn't take Adelia a lot of effort to find Langdehei. He was a kind middle-aged man with a round figure and a simple smile. He happily took Adelia's hand and introduced her directly. Give it to the nearby villagers, calling her Doctor from London.

And it seems that Adlia did not reject this title.

"And this one is my friend, I'm afraid he's more reticent than me," Adlia's voice pulled Sherlock into the crowd, "he's currently a consulting detective."

He liked the name Consulting Detective quite a bit, but it didn't have to fit into the environment so much.

Forget it, there is nothing else to do anyway.

Mr. Roundhay arranged a suitable seat for the guests from afar. They sat side by side, sang hymns together, and watched the children waddling like ducks line up and danced cutely. A hilarious Christmas theater.

"Adrian, I take it back that you don't care about music literacy at all."

"Ok?"

"Everyone is born with imperfections."

"Sir, if you want to say that I'm out of tune, you don't have to beat around the bush."

The grand party didn't end until 10:30, and Adlia and Sherlock walked slowly at the end, waiting for Mr. Roundhay to lock the door of the church.

After the lights went out, it was pitch black outside.Adelia looked up, there were no stars in the sky, and the sky was covered with dark clouds.

"I'm really sorry for not being able to entertain you well. I'm too busy today," the pastor was very hearty, holding a lamp to illuminate the road ahead, "I hope you have a good time tonight."

Adlia replied softly: "In fact, it is indeed a grand event."

"I've heard from Ms. Tregennis that you seem to have a problem with—"

Adlia glanced at Sherlock, and then she realized that he happened to be paying attention to her, even though it was not clear in the dark night.

There was such a moment of unknown silence, she bent her eyes slightly: "Don't worry, I think I should have walked out."

They were going to return to their villa after returning the elderly pastor to the house, but on the way they met the distraught Mortimer Tregennis.

"Treganis?" Mr. Roundhay recognized his tenant and friend at once.

It seemed to take Mortimer a while to realize that Roundhay was calling to him. He turned his head, his expression dimmed in the night: "Ah, Mr. Roundhay."

There is no need to activate Sherlock's deductive ability. Adlia knows that he must be out of his mind, and it must have something to do with the Christmas dinner. There is a high probability that it is a family conflict.

"Aren't you going home—"

"Perhaps they don't want me to stay," said Mortimer stiffly, and went straight into the house. "Even if they saw something horrible, they wouldn't worry about me walking alone in the night."

Sherlock was obviously interested, but Mortimer made no attempt to explain, leaving only a back view.

Well, just such a "terrible man" can arouse Sherlock's interest.Although she was a little helpless and felt that nothing would happen, Adelia considered that her friend had already accommodated her a lot, and she didn't mind accompanying the detective to make a fuss.

She regained the rhythm of the conversation and bid farewell to Mr. Pastor gracefully.

"You better not tell me the destination is Terry Dannick Vassar."

Her last words overlap Sherlock's voice.

"Coachman, to Terry Dannick Vassar!"

As long as they paid enough money, even if it was twelve o'clock in the middle of the night, the coachman would take them to their destination.

"Although I didn't refuse your unreasonable request, I do feel that you are making a fuss," Adlia couldn't help but said, "After all, it's dark, and I don't think it's hard to explain why you're a little scared and suspicious."

"Oh, my God, you're not worried about the fare, are you?" Sherlock said faster, with a sarcastic tone, "I always feel that something must have happened."

"You've never been interested in other people's family conflicts."

"No doubt, Adrian," he said. "To be honest, I'm not sure. Maybe nothing happened in the end."

Adelia was noncommittal, only thinking in her mind how, if nothing happened, she would explain to the Tregennis family why she and her friends took the liberty of visiting on Christmas Eve.

"But you know, this peninsula always gives me a dark and unpredictable feeling. It's hard not to touch my nerves in such an atmosphere."

Adelia could sense something unusual in his words, and although it sounded a little silly, she decided to follow the detective's intuition blindly and not say anything to spoil the fun.

During the day, this small gray square villa is bright and lovely; but at night, it casts a restless tone, and the green grass is even dyed a bit miserable.From a distance, they could see that the lights in the living room were still on, which was somewhat comforting, as if to drive away the evil spirits that only appeared in the middle of the night.

"Adrian, see—it's not right, they're not right."

As the carriage approached, they suddenly saw clearly the situation in the window——

Those were three extremely frightened and distorted faces.

The author says:

Last night shift, the unreasonable patient uttered nasty swear words, late at night emo, the most helpless thing was that the patient next to him was still trying his best to fight the fire, and then the family members cooperated on the surface and called the patient half an hour later to scold the doctor together.The nurse later came to reassure me that I was fine, and seemed to be trembling with anger.This chapter is a little sloppy.I'm really not in the mood to edit what I wrote before, sorry.have a good weekend.Thanks to the little angels who voted for me or irrigated nutrient solution during 2021-12-0916 01:51:2021~12-1021-53:06:[-]~

Thanks to the little angel who threw the mine: Shiyi 1;

Thank you to the little angels who irrigate the nutrient solution: it's hard to wake up from a dream, 1 bottle of Xiaodongdong;

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