[Comprehensive British and American] The world is malicious

Lestrade was talking about the strange pattern on Mr. Roach's right arm, which didn't look like a tattoo, but was branded on.

Miss Rimmer shook her head in response to Lestrade's question, "I don't know, officer, when I came here, Mr. already had this pattern on his arm,...maybe it's a special hobby."

Miss Rimmer said in a dull and hoarse voice, she was looking at Lestrade, and seeing Lestrade set his eyes on Sherlock, obviously hoping that he would ask something, Miss Rimmer also shifted away look.

"Good" Sherlock walked to the corpse again, and took a closer look at Mr. Robin's hands, sleeves, and trouser legs. He even took off Mr. Robin's slippers.

"Aren't you going to ask something?" Lestrade had to ask, with a surprised expression on his face. He felt that Sherlock was too silent today.

In the past, he was like the best debater, always trying to keep people speechless, making people want to find a bandage to seal his mouth, but today he is almost silent.

"You really don't ask any more questions?" Lestrade asked again.

While he was talking, Lisa happened to walk in, she frowned and looked at Sherlock, and then walked up to Lestrade, "We found Mr. Robin's car on the way out of London, but the driver Not Robin." Lisa shrugged and said, expressing regret for the loss of this clue.

"A young man of 20 years old, jobless. He said that a man came to him last night and told him to drive the car out of London, and he would call him the money when it was done."

Lisa said disappointedly: "He described the man's appearance, with beards, short brown hair, and a bit fierce."

Miss Rimmer was indifferent to Lisa's description, she seemed a little at a loss, and couldn't hear what Lisa was saying at all, Lestrade had to raise his voice to show the man's appearance to Miss Rimmer described it.

"It's Mr. Robin, I'm sure, it fits him perfectly." Miss Rimmer's voice suddenly became thinner, and she panted sharply, "I'm sure, officer, I'm sure."

"Is he a surgeon?"

"We need to find him as soon as possible, Greg, Robin, he's going to be our murderer," Lisa interrupted.

"Ah, yes." Miss Rimmer could hardly hear Lisa's words, so this did not affect her answering some inexplicable questions from Sherlock.

After Ms. Rimmer calmed down, she continued, "Although I don't want to say that, Mr. Robin is indeed an excellent surgeon. It is said that he has saved many people."

"I need to see Mr. Roach's study." Sherlock stood up and straightened his clothes.

Miss Rimmer hadn't figured out the identity of the gentleman who was talking to her. She first glanced at Lestrade, and seeing that he had no objection, she led Sherlock to Mr. Roach's study on the second floor.

Mr. Roach is a man who has a very regular life and takes care of everything in an orderly manner, which can be seen from his study.

Sunlight is coming in from the window, and a large amount of sunlight is pouring on the sofa next to the wall. Next to the sofa is a row of bookshelves and floor lamps. Opposite is Mr. Roach's desk, and some messy things are arranged on it.

"My God, if my husband finds his desk in such a mess, he will definitely go crazy." Miss Rimmer suddenly raised her voice, staring at the desk with round eyes, on which there were books taken from the bookshelf. , Pens, dumbbells, handmade knives and other items, the black ink soaked half of the tabletop, and some even dripped down the corners of the table to the ground.

"Mister never allows anyone to tamper with the things in the study, officer." Miss Rimmer whispered, looking at Sherlock who walked to the desk.

"I'm not a policeman." Sherlock retorted, looked carefully at the only dumbbell, walked to the window, and looked out.

A group of reporters surrounded the villa, with lush trees, a courtyard pool, Covent Garden, and the Thames River clearly visible.

"Say a few words to the reporters standing outside, Lestrade, and tell them what's going on.

Mrs. Roach still has a lifeline and has been taken to Butts Hospital, which is crucial. said Sherlock hurriedly down the stairs to Lestrade.

"I don't understand." Lestrade seemed to be in a fog. He stood up suddenly and glanced at Mrs. Roach. She was absolutely dead. The bullet directly killed her. No matter how good the doctor was, None can save her.

But now, he wants to publicly say that Mrs. Roach is not dead, oh, Sherlock won't be trying to lure the murderer into the bait with this obvious method.

"It's much better than you looking for Robin like headless chickens, your thinking is like a straight line, slipping directly into the murderer's trap."

"Where are you going?" Lestrade called to Sherlock who turned around and was about to leave. He finally found something wrong with him, "Are you having a fever?"

Lestrade said in surprise, this is definitely more surprising than seeing a criminal who has been wanted for a long time. To be honest, many times, he almost forgot that Sherlock is an ordinary person who can also get sick.

"No, I'm fine, very fine," Sherlock retorted quickly.

"Can't you explain it better, Sherlock?" Lestrade asked, he was a policeman, and every time he caught a murderer, nine times out of ten he didn't know why the other party was a criminal.

"I'm not sure, I need to be sure." Sherlock walked a few steps, frowned suddenly, and turned to Miss Rimmer, "Where is the back door? By the way, please give me an umbrella."

***

"May I ask if the police have found out the real culprit now, and is this vicious murder committed by a serial murderer?"

"The law and order in London is deteriorating, should the police take emergency measures?"

"..."

"This is just an ordinary homicide and has nothing to do with the serial killer. The police are actively investigating. Now Mrs. Roach has received emergency treatment at Butts Hospital. I believe she will wake up soon and accuse the murderer."

The image on the screen was fixed on the scene outside the Roach couple's villa. The man had a gloomy face, got up and turned off the TV, and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

There's no way she's still alive, it must be a trick by the cops.

The man immediately thought, and the flash of thought became more and more firm. Before he left, he had already determined that Mrs. Roach was dead, and the Scotland Yard police must have nothing to do, so they came up with this extremely stupid idea.

They must have thought I was panicked and paranoid, and immediately ran to Butts Hospital to verify.

While they're focusing on Butts, I need to get it back asap.

The night was completely dark. Since the murder, the streets near Covent Park have become extremely quiet. Under the bright street lights, there are only a few hurried figures flashing occasionally.

The man came to the villa with ease, covered his head with a wide hood, and stood in front of the back door. The man looked around for a long time before pushing the door in.

The moonlight passed through the dense branches and leaves and cast on the sparkling pool. The man walked to the pool in the courtyard, rolled up his trouser legs, walked into the pool barefoot, and groped in the bottomless pool.

The sound of "crashing" running water is especially clear in the silent dark night.

[not here? ] The man fumbled around in the water.

"Are you looking for it?" A stranger's voice suddenly came from the courtyard where there shouldn't be other people. The man was startled, and he raised his head suddenly, the light of the flashlight was shining on his pale face.

The man blinked, avoiding glare, barely seeing the package in Sherlock's hand.

"You are under arrest, Mr. Roach." Lestrade stepped forward and grabbed Roach who hadn't recovered yet.

"It's impossible," Roach said in disbelief. He never imagined that what he thought was a clever move would happen to fall into the trap of the police.

"It's nothing impossible, Mr. Roach. If you have anything to say, go to Scotland Yard." Lestrade said with lowered corners of his mouth.